My words left the tent atmosphere tight and silent, and I didn’t bother going easy on them.
"General, I know your contribution to the army is great," an elven man said, "but ordering us around like children is unacceptable."
Great. Another one who couldn’t read the room. I turned toward him.
Blond hair fell neatly over his shoulders. A green robe marked his rank, pressed and spotless.
"I destroyed three ships today." Each word landed slow and heavy. "Yesterday, two. The day before that, their entire coastal fleet."
My knuckles struck the weathered oak once.
"The second I stop—even for a single day—this line breaks," I said. "Cities burn. Innocents die in the streets."
"So, enlighten . What, precisely, are the rest of you contributing to prevent that outco?"
He ground his teeth. "We sent our n too. It’s not like you’re the only one making sacrifices."
"You call that a contribution? I watched ten of your so‑called top mages almost get themselves killed. If I hadn’t stepped in, they would be corpses by now."
He took a deep breath and forced himself to answer.
"They were just caught off guard," he said, trying to steady his voice. "The enemy used a special magic. It caused interference. Our mages couldn’t draw out their full power because of it."
"You say they can’t cast because of interference?" I let out a short laughed. "What kind of excuse is that?"
"You trained for centuries, for god’s sake." I let the mockery fill my tone. "If a little disruption shuts you down, then your spells an nothing. The enemy won’t lower their standards just because you feel uncomfortable."
The elf’s jaw tightened. His hands balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white against his pale skin. For a mont I thought he might actually try sothing stupid, but he cald himself. Barely.
"You don’t understand the complexity of what we’re dealing with," he said, and I could hear the strain in his voice as he fought to keep it level.
"This isn’t simple disruption. The enemy’s interference magic operates on principles we’ve never encountered before. "
Another voice joined in—a woman with silver hair braided in the traditional elven style, her robes bearing the insignia of their Royal Academy.
"General, he speaks truth. Analyzing unknown magical structures takes ti. We must deconstruct each layer, understand the underlying theory, identify the resonance patterns—"
"How much ti?" I cut her off.
She hesitated. The other elves in the tent looked at each other uncomfortably.
"A month," she finally admitted. "Perhaps two, if the structure proves more intricate than we initially assessed. We’re already working around the clock. Our best theoretical mages are—"
"Two months." I shook my head slowly, letting the implications hang in the air like smoke from a funeral pyre. "You’re telling you need that much ti to figure out how to make your people useful again."
"It’s not a matter of being useful," the blond elf snapped, his composure finally cracking. "It’s a matter of understanding magic that was designed specifically to neutralize us."
"I don’t care about your theory." I leaned forward, planting both palms on the table. Maps and supply reports scattered beneath my weight. "In that ti fra, this place will be long gone. Maybe even the continent."
Silence crashed through the tent.
"You’re exaggerating," soone muttered from the back.
"Am I?" I straightened and swept my gaze across every face in the room.
"Their fleet will regroup in four days, I’ve seen their reinforcents coming down from the northern strait—ten large warships of iron, twenty dium sizes, and at least forty smaller support vessels. That’s only what I saw while flying around."
I pointed to the map, jabbing my finger at the coastal markers.
"Based on what I’ve seen, they’ll strike here, here, and here—all at once. They’ll force us to split our forces, and while we rush to respond, their ground troops will break through the eastern gap."
"We can hold the eastern gap," a dwarven commander rumbled. "We’ve fortified—"
"With what?" I rounded on him. "Your fortifications an nothing when they can rain destruction from above. And without elven mages to counter their aerial assaults, your walls beco tombs."
The silver-haired woman stepped forward. "Surely if we explain the situation, if we coordinate our efforts—"
"The enemy doesn’t care about coordination," I shot her down.
I turned back to the blond elf. "That’s why we need your people to step up. Not in a month. Not in a week. Now. Today. This very mont."
"But we can’t—" he started.
"Then learn faster." I slamd my fist down again. This ti, the table cracked. A thin line split the ancient oak from edge to center.
The arguing died.
I scanned their faces and saw the worry etched into every line. Perfect. Everything was going according to plan. Now that fear had taken root, it was ti to offer the olive branch.
"I don’t want to use this, but I have no choice," I said, shaking my head and running a hand through my hair.
They all leaned forward, waiting.
"When my dragon bloodline fully awakened, I gained a talent called the Eye of Truth. It lets see the source and structure of magic in an instant. It also allows to copy and counter it."
They all understood how absurd that ability sounded. Revealing sothing like that was reckless.
It didn’t matter. I made it up.
During a fight with a high‑ranking enemy, I had taken a to that explained the very spell causing the interference. I studied it. That was all.
As for why I revealed it, the reason was simple. I wanted the spies to hear it. There were several in the room already.
Once that story reached the enemy, they would hesitate to use their stronger spells, afraid I might steal them. That caution would slow them down, and that brief mont of hesitation would be more than enough for to kill them.
"Watch carefully."
Mana flowed from my fingertips in a controlled stream, pooling onto the table’s surface. The pattern spread and twisted into shape—the sa spell the enemy had been using against us.
The elves stared, eyes wide. Admiration mixed with fear as they realized I could use such an advanced spell so early. Not even their strongest mage could manage it.
If I hadn’t told them about the fake innate talent beforehand, they would have suspected I was working with the enemy.
"I’m willing to teach you how to use it, but I have conditions. From this mont forward, I will be the Supre General of this army."
They all looked confused.
"Supre General? That’s not even a real rank."
"It is now." I t each pair of eyes in turn. Human. Elf. Dwarf. Halfling. Every representative of every race that had sent forces to this desperate coalition.
"A new title will be created to deal with our current—frankly dire—situation. All races will follow my command. My word supersedes your kings, your councils, and your parliants."
"That’s insane," the blond elf shouted. "You’re asking us to surrender our sovereignty."
"I’m asking you to survive." I straightened my spine. "Your sovereignty ans nothing if you’re all dead. Your traditions an nothing if your cities are ash. Your pride ans nothing if your children are slaves."
"The other races would never agree—" the dwarf began. "We already let humans hold too much control over the allied forces, and now you want even more?"
"Then they’ll die. Simple as that," I shot back. "And you’re forgetting sothing. I’m no longer human. With in charge, no race stands above the others."
"Equal?" the dwarf snapped. "Or equally beneath you? If that’s your take, then how are you any different from the intruders who believe they’re the superior race?"
I expected resistance, but I hadn’t thought the dwarves would push back the hardest. Ti to put them in their place.
"I’ve carried this war alone for too long. I’m tired of watching you squabble over petty nonsense while the world burns. You want my help? You want to keep destroying their fleets and saving your incompetent soldiers? Then you give the authority to actually win this war."
The silver-haired woman looked ill. "You’re talking about absolute power. What stops you from becoming a tyrant?"
"The sa thing that’s stopped so far." I gestured toward the tent flap, toward the battlefield beyond. "I’m too busy fighting to rule. I don’t want your thrones. I don’t want your treasuries. I want your obedience when it cos to military matters. — "
"—When I say jump, you jump. When I say your mages need to work through the night, they work. When I say we abandon a position, we abandon it."
"And after the war?" soone asked.
"After the war, you can go back to your bickering and your politics. If there is an after." I crossed my arms. "But right now, we don’t have ti for democracy. We don’t have ti for debate. We have ti for one thing only: survival. And I’m the best chance you’ve got."
The blond elf looked at his companions, searching for support. He found only uncertainty and fear.
"I need to consult with my king," he said finally.
The others also followed suit.
"You have until dawn," I said. "After that, I leave the front line. We’ll see what happens to you once I’m gone."
"General Arden!" Agusto shot to his feet. "You can’t do this. You’re the dragons’ representative—the hidden rulers of this land. It’s your duty to protect the continent."
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