After speaking with Alim, the Second Lord hurried back to his temporary residence to call an emergency meeting of the Seven Shadow Lords. Unfortunately for him and Alim, all the Lords were active in this war, and none had time to read messages. It was lucky for Alim that the Second Lord had seen his letter and was close by.

The Second Lord gave a loud, disgruntled moan as he stared at the stack of papers on the desk he had left. He had no time to sort through these as the situation that he and Alim had found themselves in was of the utmost priority, so he sat and began to write to each of the lords about the situation and summon them for a meeting.

While the Second Lord was busy with his own matters, Alim panicked about what he needed to do. He had lied and told the Second Lord that he had a plan, but he had no clue as to what he was to do, and he did not even know who the icy-blue haired man was.

Alim took a deep breath, “It’s fine. I have at least three months before Gran returns. I can think of something before then. It is not like I have not been in a difficult situation before.” Alim tried to comfort himself, but knowing that his life was in someone else's hands made him uneasy.

Days passed slowly as Alim waded through his time at the base, but fortunately or unfortunately, he had become close to the strange guest. He had discovered that they were Feyrishians from the House Vanir and that the young man was the next in line to inherit the title of Vanir. He also discovered that the current Vanir was a very ornery old man who saw Seedlings as nothing more than wasted space and was very vocal about it. The only information he could not get was why they were here and why the Erlminins were helping Gran.

“STREV HURRY!” The scream of the base commander echoed from the roof of a building.

He didn’t know when, but at some point, the commander's opinion of him had become quite positive, and he became the center of attention, but what did it matter? He was in his environment now. What did the commands of one person amount to for an assassin? All he cared about was the feeling of life leaving these bodies. Alim dashed across the battlefield, his mind clear and calm as he weaved in and out of danger, evading enemies and aiming his own weapon precisely, one life for every strike he made. If one looked closely, one could see a mad fire burning in his eyes as another pillar of green light started to glow around him.

“KILL THAT MADMAN!” The enemy commander screamed in a calm voice laced with panic.

He and anyone watching could see this seemingly ordinary Seedling singlehandedly taking more lives than some of the most experienced knights, soldiers, or mercenaries on this hurried battlefield. He had no idea that Prince Gran had such a card hidden away. If he had known, then the plans that they had made would have been different.

Before daybreak and hours before the battle had started, Alim was staring at a blank paper on a makeshift desk he had made since his recent promotion. His current identity was a son looking to help his distant family pay for their debt, a common thing no matter what race or city you go to, especially in times of war like now. Because of this identity, he needed to constantly send letters to his family and some of his earnings. It was fine as he had no need for the money, but he knew that the letters were being read by the higher-ups, and these letters were actually supposed to be his way of sending information to the Shadow Race on regular days.

“AHHH!” Alim screamed as he viciously scratched his head, “Why is writing this letter so hard.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on Alim’s door, “Hey, Strev…”

“YES!” Alim shouted as he jumped from his seat, slinging the closed door open.

The soldier on the other side stood shocked and confused at the suddenness of the situation.

“Uh, Oh, writing your letter, I see,” The soldier said with a laugh, noticing the black page on the desk.

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“Yes,” Alim admitted, “I am not good at this, so I always get stuck with what to tell them.”

“Just be honest.”

“Oh yeah, that would be a great idea, and tell them about all this,” Alim said, waving his arm and pointing at his shabby room.

“Hehe, better than your old room, right.” The soldier teased

“Quiet! You!”

The soldier yawned as he started to stretch, “Anyway, it’s time for the shift change. You’re in charge next, so hurry out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.”

Alim made his way to the front gate, where he reported to the commander for today’s guard duty.

“Strev! Here! Sir!” Alim saluted the commander.

“You were requested to guard the Erlminins again today, but I denied that, as you will assist me again today.” The commander said, looking over the area outside of his office.

“As you command, sir,” Alim said, “What is on my agenda first, sir?”

“First, there is some paperwork that I need you to sort. Then, when Morin breaks, you can train some new recruits, and that will be all for the day.”

“Are you sure I can still assist with the guarding…”

“Someone with your talent for leadership? No, I would like to train you to be a commander as well.”

“Thank you for the praise, sir,” Alim said

Time passed slowly, and just as Alim was about to leave to start training the new recruits, a scream echoed in the hallway outside the office.

“COMMANDER!” A soldier ran into the room; he looked ragged, with wisps of green light slowly wafting from each wound decorating his body.

“WHAT!” The commander screamed, but just before he could ask, the screams of the watchmen started to echo in the surroundings.

“Strev! Come with me.” The commander said as he rushed out of his office.

When the pair had made it outside the building and onto a roof close to the dark stone walls, they could see that the battle had already started. It was messy and chaotic, seeming as if neither side knew what they were doing.

“What was the point of all that training if they are just going to do this!” The commander screamed

Alim looked out at the chaos that was on this battlefield. He saw many familiar faces, including a few he knew he should not.

“The Feyrishians and…GRAN!”

“THE LORD IS HERE!” The commander screamed as he heard Alim shout.

The commander glanced over the battle but could not see Gran anywhere, “Strev, you must protect the Lord at all cost.”

“At your command,” Alim said as he jumped from the wall, a fall that should have easily killed a normal Seedling like himself.

The commander watched with a newfound suspicion of his protege, but Alim was unaware of his actions as the smell of battle had already blinded the battle-hungry assassin.

“ It would be better if they had learned any essence arts,” Alim whipped his dagger and sent another head flying; a mad smile started to stretch across his face, "It's been too long since my last fight.”

Alim madly dashed around the battlefield with a peal of devilish laughter echoing around him, sending shivers down the spines of the soldiers on both sides.

Both commanders stared in pale fear of the man taking lives from both sides, seemingly unaware of friend or foe.

“STOP THAT MADMAN!” The commander from Gran’s base yelled after hearing the other commander. He hated to admit that Alim was causing more damage to their side than the enemy's; it needed to stop.

Just as Alim was about to send another head flying into the air, a dagger swept his own out of its path.

“Who?” Alim bounced back, asking, looking for who was holding the dagger.

“BROTHER!” The man holding the dagger that had just blocked Alim shouted.

“Bro… TEETEE!” Alim recognized the man before him, someone who should have been gone from the world.

“How? Why?” Alim questioned, but Teetee paid the questions no mind, swinging his daggers wildly at Alim.