The journey was exactly as slow and painful as Leon remembered.
Four weeks. Twenty-nine days of riding horses that seemed determined to find every pothole, every rough patch, every possible opportunity to make the experience miserable. The Solmaran delegation had brought their own mounts - sleek, well-bred horses that probably cost more than Leon had earned in his entire previous life. They still made the journey hell.
Leon shifted in his saddle for the thousandth time, trying to find the grace the sword saint had drilled into him. She was not with them on this journey, having stayed by the king's side.
I could build an engine, Leon thought, not for the first time. A simple combustion engine, maybe steam-powered for simplicity. Attach it to a carriage frame with proper suspension - springs, dampeners, the basics. Cut this journey to a week, maybe less.
But that would require explaining internal combustion to a world that barely understood mechanical advantage. Would require resources, time, workshops. Would require being someone other than the High Archmage, who was supposed to focus on profound magical innovations, not mundane transportation improvements.
Would also probably get him labeled as even more eccentric than he already was.
Leon sighed and accepted another hour of saddle torture.
"High Archmage!" Magister Therin rode up beside him, copper robes somehow still clean despite two weeks of travel. The young Solmaran mage had apparently taken his promise of "asking questions during the journey" as a sacred oath.
"Magister Therin," Leon said, keeping his voice neutral. Professional. Not at all like someone contemplating whether jumping off his horse would be less painful than this conversation.
"I've been thinking about your layered amplification arrays," Therin said, pulling out the ever-present notebook. "The load distribution across circles -you mentioned square grids handle the mana flow, but I'm curious about the mathematical principles governing the intersection points."
Leon's mind raced. Mathematical principles. Right. He'd designed those grids using basic structural engineering - distribute load evenly across support points, avoid stress concentration, ensure redundant pathways in case of failure.
"The intersection points serve as load transfer nodes," Leon said, falling back on engineering terminology that sounded magical enough. "Each node must handle equal distribution from all connected pathways. The square shape ensures symmetrical flow patterns, preventing cascade failures if any single pathway becomes compromised."
"Fascinating," Therin scribbled notes. "So it's a fault-tolerance system as much as an amplification system. But how do you calculate the optimal node spacing? There must be some relationship between mana density and the precision -"
"Experience and iteration," Leon interrupted smoothly. "I tested various configurations under combat conditions, adjusted based on performance metrics. The geometry that worked best became the standard."
It was true, technically. He'd tried different patterns until something worked, then refined it. That Therin was reading deep magical theory into trial-and-error problem solving wasn't Leon's fault.
"But surely there's an underlying theoretical framework," Therin pressed. "Some principle that guided your initial designs-"
"Efficiency," Leon said flatly. "The principle was: mages were dying because our defenses were inefficient. I made them less inefficient. Everything else is just details."
Therin blinked, then smiled. "A pragmatist's approach to magical theory. Revolutionary, really. Most mages spend decades on theoretical purity before attempting practical application. You inverted the entire process."
I had no choice, Leon thought. I don't have decades. I barely have theoretical knowledge at all.
"Practical problems require practical solutions," Leon said instead. "The gates don't wait for perfect theory."
"True, true." Therin made more notes. "Speaking of which, I wanted to ask about your defensive barrier variations. You demonstrated three types -creature-resistant, projectile-deflecting, and energy-absorbing. But the circle was nearly identical. How do you modify the effect without changing the structure?"
And there it was. The kind of question Leon dreaded. One that would make sense to a real archmage, someone who understood how magic actually worked at a fundamental level.
"Mage intent during channeling," Leon said, using the vaguest explanation he'd learned. "The geometry provides the framework, but the caster's focus determines the specific manifestation. Same structure, different application based on what the mage envisions during power flow."
"Ah, so it's partially intuitive casting within a structured framework," Therin nodded. "Brilliant. You've created a system that leverages both precision and traditional magical principles."
Leon managed not to sigh in relief. Therin was doing the work for him, finding elegant explanations for Leon's desperate fumbling.
"If you'd like to discuss this further," Leon said carefully, "perhaps we could continue after we've made camp? The road requires concentration."
"Of course, of course!" Therin beamed. "I have so many more questions about your theoretical framework, but I can wait until evening."
He rode back to join the other Solmaran mages, leaving Leon in blessed silence.
For approximately ten minutes.
Then Admiral-Mage Kaelis rode up.
"High Archmage," she said, her tone professionally courteous. "A moment of your time?"
Maybe I should learn to use my archmage status to just say no to these trips, Leon thought bitterly. "The High Archmage requires solitude for meditation." "The High Archmage cannot be disturbed during travel." Something. Anything.
But he was trying to build an alliance, which meant being accessible. Helpful. The confident expert who had all the answers.
"Of course, Admiral-Mage," Leon said.
"I've been reviewing the formation documentation you provided," Kaelis said, pulling out a leather folder. Even on horseback, she maintained perfect organization. "The supply efficiency arrays - I want to understand their limitations. You mentioned they extend combat duration by roughly fifty percent. Is that a hard limit, or can the effect scale with more mages?"
"It scales, but with diminishing returns," Leon said, grateful this was something he'd actually tested. "Three mages in the formation get fifty percent extension. Six mages get approximately sixty-five percent. Nine mages get maybe seventy. The circle can only optimize so much -eventually you hit fundamental limitations of mana core capacity."
"So the formation doesn't expand the core itself, just optimizes its usage."
"Correct. Think of it as..." Leon paused, searching for an analogy they'd understand. "...like a well-designed canal system versus a river. Same amount of water, but the canal wastes less through efficient routing. Eventually though, you still run dry."
Kaelis nodded thoughtfully.
"Which brings me to my next question," Kaelis said. "Rotation logistics. You've managed seven gates with limited resources. What's your recommended ratio of active combat mages to reserves?"
They discussed logistics for another half hour. Then one of the other Solmaran mages had questions about hybrid formations. Then another wanted to understand the principles behind mobile defense arrays.
By the time they made camp that evening, Leon's head was pounding from maintaining perfect confidence while discussing topics he barely understood .
Therin found him after dinner. Of course he did.
"High Archmage, about the triangular anchors in your defensive formations..."
The pattern continued for four weeks.
Days of slow, painful travel. Nights of endless questions from Solmaran mages who saw Leon as a revolutionary genius. Therin was the worst - or perhaps the best, depending on perspective - constantly finding new aspects of Leon's work to analyze, new theoretical frameworks to discuss, new questions that Leon had to deflect with vague expertise.
"Your optimization principles could revolutionize Imperial magical education," Therin said one evening, sketching diagrams by firelight.
"The goal is saving lives, not revolutionizing education," Leon replied, which sounded profound but really meant please stop asking me to explain theory I made up on the spot.
Kaelis was more practical, focused on implementation and logistics. All things Leon was figuring out as he went, presenting them as established doctrine.
By the end of week two, Leon was seriously considering whether claiming "archmage meditation requirements" and refusing all conversation would damage the alliance more than help it.
Curse my mouth, Leon thought on the eighteenth day, listening to Therin theorize about advanced geometric principles. Excellent at pushing me into trouble, useless at getting me out.
And they still had days to go.
On the twenty-ninth day, they reached the forest edge.
Leon recognized the terrain - dense trees giving way to cleared paths, signs of recent habitation. The observation camp that had been established here was larger now, more permanent. Tents and wooden structures housing the rotating teams of mages and soldiers monitoring the gate.
And beyond the camp, visible through gaps in the trees was Mudtown.
The abandoned settlement sat exactly as Leon remembered. Buildings intact, possessions left behind, the eerie stillness of a place where people had simply stopped existing, an entire community deciding that whatever lay to the east wasn't worth staying for.
Leon dismounted in the town center, surrounded by the ghost town's silence. It felt even more surreal the second time - like the whole place was holding its breath, waiting for its residents to return.
They wouldn't. Not while the gate existed.
Leon led the others, Kaelis and the other Solmarans trailing behind. The mages and soldiers from the observation camp were gathering too, all moving toward the same point.
The edge of the town.
Leon reached the clearing and stopped, even though he'd seen this before. Even though he knew what waited.
The relief he'd felt at finally reaching their destination died instantly.
The Blackwater Swamp stretched before them - flat, waterlogged terrain extending toward distant mountains. And cutting across the entire visible horizon, the gate.