Six hundred forty-three fighters against twenty-three hundred soldiers and four heroes.
Two days until Loki arrived.
One day until the worst battle of the war.
"We'll hold," Lyra whispered to herself. "We have to."
—-----------------------------
Seraphina entered her prepared ritual space—a cleared room behind Third Line fortified with magical wards and protection circles.
Two messages. Different recipients. Different purposes. But both critical.
She began with the message to Loki, knowing demon lord politics required careful phrasing.
Her hands moved through complex patterns, channeling demonic energy into visible forms. Purple light coalesced as she spoke the ritual words, encoding information into magical construct.
" Demon Lord Loki. Seraphina sends urgent update on settlement situation."
The magical construct took shape—a sphere of compressed energy containing encoded information.
