Isabella's reaction to the three-month deadline was controlled fury.
"Three months," she repeated. "To prepare for entity that required every kingdom three centuries ago to barely seal. With fraction of the military capacity, less magical knowledge, and population that doesn't believe the threat is real."
"Accurate summary," Kaelen confirmed.
"I wasn't asking for confirmation!" Isabella's control slipped. "I was expressing frustration that we're facing extinction timeline shorter than harvest season!"
She composed herself. "Options. Give me every option, no matter how unlikely."
"Evacuation," Valdris suggested. "Abandon northern territories entirely, consolidate population southward, establish defensive lines as far from manifestation point as possible."
"That's survival strategy, not victory strategy," Isabella said. "Next."
"Preemptive assault," Ronan offered. "Gather everything we have, hit the nexus before seal fails, try to destroy it entirely."
"That's suicide," Lia said. "The Dreadmarch consumed half our team. Full assault would accomplish nothing except wasting resources."
"Then what?" Isabella demanded. "What's the actual victory condition?"
Silence. Nobody had answer.
Finally, Kaelen spoke. "Re-sealing. The original seal lasted three centuries. We replicate that process, seal the Shadow Lord for another three hundred years. Push the problem to future generations."
"Can that be done?" Isabella asked Lia.
"Theoretically. The original sealing required hundreds of high-level mages working in coordination. Plus three Forbidden Blade wielders to anchor the ritual." Lia hesitated. "We have maybe fifty competent mages available. And one Forbidden Blade wielder. The math doesn't work."
"Then we find more," Isabella said. "Recruit from every kingdom. Offer whatever incentives necessary. And the Forbidden Blades—didn't Marcus mention there were more?"
"Nightfall, Seraphina's blade, is unaccounted for after her capture," Valdris reported. "And Marcus claimed there were seven original blades. Hearteater and Mindbreaker were recovered after his execution. Soulrender is Kaelen's. That's three confirmed. Four missing."
"Find them," Isabella ordered. "We need every advantage. Three months is timeline for preparation, not just waiting. Move."
---
The kingdoms mobilized.
After initial skepticism, proof of the Dreadmarch's deterioration convinced even doubters. Valorian, Morwen, Eredor, and three smaller territories committed forces and resources.
Mages were recruited—some voluntarily, some under threat of conscription. Fifty became one hundred. Then two hundred. Not enough, but progress.
Kaelen was assigned to locate missing Forbidden Blades.
"You're best qualified," Isabella explained. "You can sense them, understand them, potentially communicate with their consciousnesses. Also, you're expendable—if a blade consumes you, we lose one asset instead of entire team."
"Encouraging," Kaelen said flatly.
"I'm being practical. You understand practical."
She provided intelligence on potential blade locations. Historical records, archaeological surveys, rumors from centuries past.
"Start with Heartseeker," she suggested. "Last known location was eastern mountains, wielded by knight who was sealed in his tomb rather than risking blade's recovery. Tomb's exact location is uncertain, but we have search parameters."
Kaelen took the mission. Lia insisted on accompanying him.
"You'll need magical support," she said. "And someone to keep you grounded if blade-consciousness tries overwhelming you."
"I'm already overwhelmed," Kaelen pointed out. "Soulrender is dominant consciousness now."
"Then someone to keep that consciousness focused on mission instead of blade-instinct," Lia amended.
They traveled east, following fragmentary clues toward buried tomb.
"You really are gone, aren't you?" Lia said on third day. "The human part. I keep looking for it, but it's not there."
"Fragments remain," Kaelen said. "Memories. Patterns. But coherent human consciousness? No. That burned away maintaining function."
"Do you regret it?"
"Regret is human emotion. I understand the concept but can't access the feeling." He paused. "But intellectually, I recognize that outcome is suboptimal. I've lost capabilities that made me effective beyond pure combat. Diplomacy, empathy, creative problem-solving—all compromised by blade-dominance."
"So you're less effective overall, despite being better fighter," Lia summarized.
"Yes. Ironic, isn't it?"
"If you could still appreciate irony, yes."
They found the tomb on day six—ancient barrow built into mountainside, sealed with wards that had decayed over centuries.
"Heartseeker is definitely inside," Kaelen said, sensing the blade-presence. "But so is something else. The knight wasn't sealed alone."
"Guardian?" Lia asked.
"Consciousness. Original wielder's remnant, bound to protect the blade. This will be complicated."
They entered cautiously. The tomb was vast, filled with treasures and traps in equal measure. At the center, a sarcophagus made of spelled stone.
And standing before it, an armored figure. Not physical—spiritual manifestation of the dead knight.
"Turn back," it said. "Heartseeker cannot be claimed. Must remain buried. Too dangerous."
"The world ends in three months," Kaelen replied. "Dangerous is irrelevant compared to extinct."
"Three months?" The knight's spirit seemed surprised. "Already? The seal degrades faster than predicted. But still—Heartseeker is too corrupting. It consumed me in weeks. You won't last days."
"I'm already consumed," Kaelen said. "Soulrender owns most of my consciousness. Adding Heartseeker can't make that worse."
"Soulrender?" The knight studied Kaelen more carefully. "You're the hybrid. The synthesis everyone spoke about. Unprecedented integration."
"So I'm told," Kaelen said. "The blade, please. We're on limited timeline."
The knight was silent for long moment. "You understand Heartseeker will try to dominate? Will fight Soulrender for control of your consciousness? Two Forbidden Blades in one body—that's never been attempted."
"First time for everything," Kaelen said.
The knight sighed—ghostly sound that suggested centuries of lonely vigil ending. "Fine. Take it. Just... don't let it consume what little humanity remains in you. That's how I died—completely consumed, nothing but blade-instinct. Not existence any soul deserves."
The sarcophagus opened. Inside lay a blade similar to Soulrender—dark metal, shadow energy visible along its edge.
Kaelen reached for it.
The moment his hand touched Heartseeker's hilt, the blade's consciousness slammed into him. Aggressive, hungry, trying to establish immediate dominance.
*Mine*, Heartseeker declared. *This body is mine now. Surrender.*
*No*, Soulrender replied. *This host is mine. You're visitor at best.*
The two blades fought for control. Kaelen's consciousness—what remained of it—was caught between them, crushed by warring weapon-entities trying to claim exclusive possession.
Pain beyond physical. Mental agony as his self was torn between three competing consciousnesses.
"Kaelen!" Lia's voice, distant and distorted. "Let it go! Release the blade!"
He couldn't. Heartseeker had latched onto his consciousness, wouldn't release without taking pieces with it.
*Negotiate*, Kaelen thought desperately at both blades. *Share control. Three consciousnesses, one body. Compromise.*
*Compromise is weakness*, Heartseeker argued.
*Compromise is survival*, Soulrender countered. Apparently it had learned something from Kaelen. *Fight me, and we both lose. Cooperate, and we're stronger together.*
Heartseeker considered. Finally: *Temporary alliance. Until the Shadow Lord is sealed. Then we resolve dominance properly.*
*Acceptable*, Soulrender agreed.
The crushing pressure eased. Three consciousnesses settling into uneasy coexistence. Not merged like Kaelen and Soulrender had been, but tolerable.
Kaelen opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed. Held two Forbidden Blades now—Soulrender in right hand, Heartseeker in left.
Power flooded through him. More than double, because the blades amplified each other's effects. He felt invincible, unstoppable, godlike.
Felt also like his remaining humanity was being compressed into increasingly small corner of his mind.
"That was stupid," Lia said. "Incredibly, monumentally stupid. You could have died."
"Didn't," Kaelen said. His voice sounded different now—layered, like multiple speakers at once.
"You don't sound human anymore," Lia observed.
"I'm not," Kaelen agreed. "I'm weaponry that learned to talk. But effective weaponry. That's what matters."
"No," Lia said firmly. "That's not all that matters. Kaelen—look at me. Try to actually see me, not just acknowledge my presence."
He tried. Found it difficult. Lia registered as tactical element, potential ally, useful magic-user. But as person? As someone he'd once loved? That recognition was faint, slipping away.
"I'm losing you," Lia said quietly. "Completely now. Whatever fragments remained are being crushed by two blades fighting for dominance."
"Regrettable," Kaelen said. And meant it, distantly.
"That's not good enough!" Lia's voice broke. "You're not regrettable! You're dying and I'm watching it happen and there's nothing I can do!"
"You can help me complete mission," Kaelen said. "Save the world. That's what I chose originally. Still choose it now, despite changes. Purpose persists regardless of consciousness hosting it."
"That's not comfort," Lia said.
"I know," Kaelen replied. "But it's all I have to offer."
They left the tomb, leaving the knight's spirit to finally rest. Kaelen carrying two Forbidden Blades, power overwhelming and terrifying.
And somewhere in that power, fragment of person named Kaelen Voss still existed.
Barely. Fading.
But present.
For now.
How much longer remained unknown.
But every day was gift. Every hour was victory.
Even if he couldn't properly feel them anymore.