Two weeks had passed, and now Zeke once more found himself facing his officers. All injuries were gone, and even the mental fatigue that had clung to them seemed to have been largely washed away. It had been the right choice to allow them to rest.

  However, that would all end today. Akasha had confirmed that the Alexandria was fully operational again. And Zeke's fingers had been itching for too long. Finally, it was time to reveal the plan he had been working on.

  "Our next target will be..."

  Zeke's finger slid across the eastern reaches, past Thalebrook, past Gwyrel Ford, and past a dozen more settlements before stopping deep within the wilderness.

  "...Here."

  "This... young lord, that doesn't seem to be a... very valuable target," Linus pointed out carefully.

  "I am well aware," Zeke said, leaning back in his chair.

  "Wouldn't it be more prudent to secure our path forward?"

  "It would be, yes."

  "...Then why are we not doing that?"

  "Because it is the obvious move. It is what the enemy expects us to do. I have no doubt they have already reinforced every position in our path."

  He pointed at two locations on the map, each marked with a red cross. "These are where our nearest allies launched their attacks. The Bloodletter forces to the north, and House Cairnwyck to the southwest. But look at how they are doing now?"

  The northern strike, led by the troops of House Bloodletter, had hit a forest sanctuary similar to the one he had raided in his first battle.

  The southwestern attack had been an ambush on a fortress, where the Flesh Mages of House Cairnwyck infiltrated the enemy camp and eradicated key targets in their sleep. An Archmage had been among the dead.

  "Both their initial raids were effective. However..." His finger slid from the northern position to a nearby outpost. "The Bloodletter forces did not make it far before being stalled. They are still bogged down even now. Same for the Flesh Mages. Their two following infiltrations failed, and they suffered casualties."

  Zeke looked up from the map, meeting the eyes of his two captains. "The Empire's reaction speed is even faster than expected. In a matter of days, they managed to locate, assess, and counter both forces, effectively neutralizing them. As for us, you already know what happened..."

  He shook his head. It was hard to put into words how impressive that truly was. The Empire moved as if guided by a Mind Spirit of its own, directing the actions of every battalion in perfect harmony. If this was the power of their mental network, it was no wonder they were such a dominant force.

  In war, information was everything, and the Empire excelled not only at distributing it, but also at acting on it with terrifying efficiency.

  Even after being caught completely off guard by the sudden involvement of so many new factions, it had taken only a single battle for the Empire to adapt.

  Against the Blood Mages, they used rapid air raids to slow their march, forcing them to advance at a snail's pace while staying constantly on guard. It exhausted their troops and impeded their progress while exposing the Empire to almost no risk. All achieved simply by exploiting the superior range and mobility of their forces.

  Against the Flesh Mages, they had developed countermeasures practically overnight, preventing further infiltrations. Such a swift response would have been impossible under normal circumstances. Only multiple minds working in perfect tandem could have devised and implemented solutions at such speed.

  "...Terrifying."

  The word escaped him before he could stop it, but he did not regret saying it. It was the simple truth.

  Zeke pointed at two other fortresses he could have chosen to attack instead of Strattlehold. "I do not know what waits for us there, but it would be foolish to assume the Empire has not prepared countermeasures. That is why we must move as unpredictably as possible. Meeting them on their terms means death. Allowing them to see through our actions means death."

  "...If the Legion is that terrifying, what makes you so sure they will not predict this move as well?" David asked, stepping closer to the table.

  His brows were furrowed, his eyes serious. None of the casual confidence he had shown before the last battle remained. Two consecutive losses against the Legion Archmages had worn away at his confidence. Too much, perhaps.

  “…Because it's impossible to predict,” Zeke said. “There are nearly a hundred identical outposts scattered across the outer regions. No single one stands out as a more likely target than another. Could they defend them all?”

  “That would be impossible,” David admitted. The others nodded in agreement. If the Legion possessed that many troops, there would be no war to speak of. Still, David did not look convinced. “But that is exactly the problem, is it not? The Legion does not bother defending these outposts because they have so little value. What would we even gain by striking them?”

  “Everything,” Zeke replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Tell me, David. Why do you think the Empire built an outpost there in the first place?”

  David studied the map for a moment, then pointed toward the nearby cities. “To stage an attack. Here, here, and here?”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Zeke shook his head. “A staging ground implies preparation for a siege. Would the Legion truly need that against settlements this small? Besides, the outpost was constructed only after all three cities had already fallen.”

  David fell silent, his brows knitting together. He was beginning to see it too. Something was off. One by one, the gazes of the officers around the table shifted to the marked location.

  Zeke did not keep them waiting for long. “It is a prison. A prison holding the inhabitants of the nearby settlements.”

  Surprisingly, Raileh was the first to connect the dots. “Is that where all those healers come from? These... Prisons.”

  Zeke nodded slowly. “That is my assumption, yes.”

  The realization plunged the room into silence. No one present was naive enough to misunderstand what imprisonment under the Empire meant, especially in the hands of its Mind Mages. Whatever was happening in those camps had to be inhuman.

  “So that is our plan, young Lord?” David asked at last, breaking the stillness. “To deprive the Legion of this resource?”

  Zeke shook his head. “That alone would accomplish very little. No. My plan is to make use of the prisoners myself.”

  The expressions around the table shifted, unease spreading quickly. Several glances drifted toward Raileh before returning to Zeke. Finally, the elven healer spoke, unable to ignore them any longer.

  “I do not see how that would help,” she said carefully. “Our forces do not lack healing or physical reinforcement.”

  Zeke nodded without hesitation. “I am aware. You alone are more than sufficient.”

  Raileh blinked. “Then…”

  “I do not intend to use them as combat assets,” Zeke clarified. “I intend to feed them to the Alexandria.”

  “Feed them… to the ship?” Linus echoed.

  Zeke grimaced. A poor choice of words. Too much time spent speaking with Akasha had dulled his sense for how such things sounded to others.

  “What I mean,” he corrected, “is that I will deploy them as energy sources.”

  “To what end?” Linus pressed. “Our people have managed well enough so far.”

  Zeke shook his head. “That is where you are mistaken, Captain. You have managed to keep her operational, yes. But that is not what this ship was built to do. The Alexandria is not a transport vessel.”

  David frowned. “She is not?”

  He looked toward the ship’s captains, but neither Linus nor Morris offered an answer. Both turned back to Zeke, just as uncertain. “She is not?”

  Zeke shook his head again. “The Alexandria was never meant to be a transport vessel. Nor is she a conventional warship.”

  “Then what is she?” Morris asked.

  Zeke leaned back, fingers drumming softly against the armrests as he met their expectant gazes. He let the silence linger for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

  “She is whatever I need her to be,” he said at last. “And right now, I need her to be a battlecarrier. A vessel built to besiege fortresses and hold territory.”

  “…Besiege?” Morris echoed. “I was not informed she had such capabilities, my lord.”

  Zeke nodded. “Of course not. We have been operating on a skeleton crew since departure. How would we power shields, interceptors, or siege arrays when we need double shifts just to stay airborne?”

  It was only half the truth. Many systems had remained dormant by design. More importantly, Zeke intended to expand the Alexandria as they moved, scaling her capabilities to match the strength of her occupants. Even during the past two weeks of repairs, Akasha had already begun unlocking new functions.

  “But… How...” David began, then hesitated. “The prisoners?”

  Zeke nodded. “There will be mages among them. Even the output from a single prison would more than double our available power.”

  Silence settled over the room as everyone absorbed the revelation.

  "Tell me," Zeke said after a moment. "Do you think the Legion can predict this?"

  "...That's impossible, young lord," David replied. "How could they predict what even we do not know?"

  Zeke nodded slowly, a wide grin spreading across his face. "That's just it. The Empire's greatest strength is also its greatest weakness."

  "In what way?"

  "Prediction is a gamble," Zeke said. He picked up a short dagger that served as a paperweight and slid his fingers along one edge. "Just like a blade. If you predict correctly, it hurts your enemy," He slid his finger along the opposite edge, "but if your guess is wrong, it hurts only yourself."

  With a sharp motion, he slammed the dagger into the table, its tip piercing the exact spot he had marked as their next target.

  Prison Camp #73

  His next target was already determined.

  Not only because the Empire would never expect such a brazen move, but because no other location held greater potential. Who would be imprisoned rather than executed? Mages.

  The Empire would spend its time predicting his movements based on what it believed he could do. But what if that very information became the trap? What if he shaped his strategy around their assumptions?

  By the time they faced the Alexandria again, she would be unrecognizable. Reinforced with new blood, expanded far beyond her current limits. The only real constraint was how quickly Zeke could scale her systems. And with Akasha working tirelessly to meet every demand, that limit would not bind him anytime soon.

  Against the Empire’s mental network, Zeke possessed one decisive advantage. His cognitive power was centralized. Akasha was bound to him alone. He could apply the full extent of her processing not just to analysis, but to direct execution.

  She could reshape the ship in real time. She could adapt to any requirement. Given sufficient Mana, she could turn the Alexandria into a fortress unlike anything the world had ever known.

  Resources were the only remaining concern, and even that had already been addressed.

  The World Anchor was filled to the brim with precious materials, millions of gold worth of everything needed to expand the ship in any direction. And mundane resources posed even less of a problem; the Anchor could produce anything that did not require Mana in limitless quantities.

  No. The true objective of this early campaign had crystallized.

  Zeke would gather survivors. As many as possible.

  By the time the Empire realized what he was doing, it would be too late. He would already possess the manpower needed to become unstoppable.

  Let them try to predict his next move while he shattered every expectation.

  There was no greater enemy to an analytical mind than the incomprehensible. Something that changed with every encounter. Something that grew in strength and capability without pattern or limit.

  But to become that enemy, he had to move fast.

  With every passing moment, the chances of finding elven survivors diminished. He did not know exactly what the Empire was doing inside those prisons, but the answer was easy enough to infer. They meant to break the captured mages and turn them into puppets.

  Such a deep violation of the mind could not be completed in a day or two, but that offered little comfort. Continuous erosion of the prisoners’ psyche would eventually hollow them out, leaving nothing but obedient flesh behind. Once that point was reached, there would be no saving them.

  In many ways, it was a fate worse than death.

  To be trapped inside one’s own body while a foreign will pulled the strings… He shuddered at the thought.

  His gaze hardened. Even after everything he had witnessed, the atrocities committed by the Ehrenlegion were enough to churn his stomach.

  Not long ago, he had imagined himself as the kind of hero who would save the oppressed half-elves from their cruel fate. But life was rarely so kind. Rarely so simple.

  His eyes swept across the eager faces before him. Followers. Allies. People who had placed their lives in his hands. He would do what he could. Save as many as possible.

  The rest was up to fate.

  “Everyone, prepare yourselves,” he said. “Tonight, we set out.”