Night had fallen by the time whispers began moving through the Usurpers' outer tents.
Patrick did not need to ask twice.
He had overheard enough.
The General's rage and the messenger's departure.
Ken's name spoken in low, tense tones.
A Celestial entering the battlefield would not be escalation.
It would be annihilation.
Patrick stood alone near the dim firelight of his assigned post, staring toward the dark horizon where Valerion's camp lay. He had already done his part once, subtly weakening supply reserves, ensuring the front lines marched slightly nauseous, slightly drained.
But that would not matter if Ken stepped onto the field.
There would be no clever sabotage then...o0pnly overwhelming suppression.
He exhaled slowly.
Then he slipped into the darkness.
---
Valerion's camp was alert but exhausted. Guards moved in doubled rotations after the day's battle. Torches lined the perimeter, casting long shifting shadows.
