Moxie's low growl pulled Cane from sleep.
Teek knelt beside the wolf, rubbing her ears and glancing at Cane.
"Sir. Scouts report a group of around forty soldiers on foot, moving south toward the staging area. They're part of 2nd Battalion—few miles west. Some are wounded. They're carrying gurneys."
Cane sat up, already dressing. "Send the scouts again. Tell Davon's platoon to assume defensive positions."
Teek shifted. "And the others?"
"Let them rest. Until they're needed."
Cane rolled from his cot and kicked the side of Fergis's bunk. "I'm sending you into the ringworld. Tell Dhalia to prepare for incoming wounded. Let them know I'm adjusting the time dilation—one minute out here will equal three months inside."
Fergis groaned, sitting up fast. "Right. Just… don't shift time until I'm back. Won't they run short of supplies?"
"They might. That's why I'm bringing everyone out—only medical will stay behind."
Fergis nodded, eyes clearer now. "Got it. Ready."
Cane opened the ringworld and sent him through, then left the tent with Moxie close behind. They sprinted for the perimeter, Cane vanishing mid-stride as Moxie opened a rift ahead.
Two short jumps later, they arrived within sight.
Cane slowed, crouched low. Pudding wheeled overhead. He engaged stealth and surveyed the camp.
It was a cold site, quiet. Two guards stood post, one roved. Six men were upright. The rest—wounded, exhausted, or unconscious—lay scattered across makeshift bedding.
Cane stepped forward to within ten meters and called out, voice steady but disembodied.
"Ware the camp. I'm Captain Ironheart of 1st Company. My scouts reported your location."
One guard jumped, sword half-drawn. "Ironheart? As in Cane Ironheart?"
"Well, yes… Captain now. I'm alone. I'll drop stealth and show you my badge."
"I'll know your face," the guard muttered, squinting. "I was there when you adjusted every service sword in the Legion."
Cane dropped stealth. "No more stars in my eyes—but my face hasn't changed."
The guard relaxed, stepping forward. "Captain Ironheart. Come on. I'll take you in."
Inside the small camp, he roused his corporal—a wiry man with a narrow face and a soldier's sharp salute.
"Captain, it's an honor. Corporal Reves. We're tasked with bringing the wounded back to the staging area."
"I'm here to help," Cane replied. "Let's get you to safety first. Then we'll talk."
Reves looked around. "The men are spent. We've been carrying wounded all day. Can it wait until morning?"
Cane shook his head. "Not exactly. But don't worry. I've got a spatial construct. You can rest while I move you."
Reves blinked. "A construct? Like a building or something?"
Cane chuckled. "Something like that. I'll take the wounded first, then the rest."
He placed his hands on the two stretchers. In a shimmer of light, they vanished into the ringworld.
Reves nodded and signaled the others. Within minutes, the entire clearing was empty.
It took two jumps to reach Topoc Hill.
Teek was waiting near a fading campfire, rubbing her hands together. "Find them?"
Cane nodded. "Come on. Let's see what happened."
Teek grinned. "Great. I love that place."
They jumped into the ringworld. Inside, Dhalia was already working, flanked by two third-year healers—Elliad and Tiri—from Yuta and Siya's mission teams.
Fergis approached with a half-dressed and bleary-eyed Clara draped over his shoulders like a sleep blanket.
"This is it. All non-essentials or people who don't care to hang out for three months are leaving." Cane said before bringing the gathered group out into the real world. He adjusted time dilation.
Corporal Reves blinked at his surroundings—his brain still catching up.
"We're… on Topoc Hill?" he asked, baffled. "Where did all these people come from?"
Fergis held up a hand. "Wait for it…"
One minute passed.
Cane reversed the dilation, sending the original group—half of them barely awake—back into the ringworld and returning the wounded in their place.
Reves gaped. "Dr. Hana?"
The woman in question, tall with sun-brushed skin and soft brown hair, smiled as she approached.
"Thanks for carrying me so far, Lou."
Reves stared. "But your wounds…"
She touched his arm gently. "I've had time to recover. Three months in there. Most of it healing."
Reves turned slowly, scanning his people. Every one of them was upright. Rested. Restored.
"I don't know what to do," he admitted. "My orders were to return the wounded and report."
"I'll take you to the TOC," Cane offered.
"We'll go back into that… construct?"
Cane nodded. "Just a short jump. I'll adjust time to normal—only a few minutes will pass."
Dr. Hana smiled, light dancing in her eyes. "That dwarf, Brammel? I think he's sweet on me. I wouldn't mind a little more conversation."
Fergis and Cane exchanged glances, both trying very hard not to laugh.
Cane entered the TOC a few minutes later with Corporal Reves and Dr. Hana. The nightwatch quietly monitored the tactical map, while the runners—including Belzi—dozed upright in their chairs, their boots muddy and heads drooping.
A lieutenant—one of Terok's aides—approached, blinking sleep from his eyes. "Captain Ironheart, correct? Did something happen?"
Cane nodded. "You're going to want to wake Commander Terok."
A minute later, the commander arrived, half-armored and clutching a steaming mug. Reves launched into the report without preamble.
"We were waiting for reinforcements from 1st Battalion and had begun moving west into the lowlands when we ran into the Dark Shadow Legion."
Terok swore, crushing the stone mug in his grip. Bits of it fell to the floor. "What kind of cursed luck... Is this all that's left?"
Reves hesitated. "Pardon? These are just the wounded."
Terok's brow furrowed. "Where did Dark Shadow go?"
"To their graves, sir." Reves lifted his chin. "We wiped them out."
Terok froze, then slowly stood. His chair tipped and crashed to the ground behind him, waking the nearest runner with a start.
"What?"
Reves didn't flinch. "The flames of Fury raged. Dark Shadow was hit hard, tried to regroup—but we kept pressure. They might've escaped, but 1st Battalion arrived in time to cut off their retreat. They were pincered between us. We destroyed them."
Terok stared a long moment. Then, without warning, he slammed his hand on the edge of the table, shaking the map and its figures.
"YES! Damn, that's—That's excellent news. How bad were the casualties?"
"We lost seven. Brought back three dozen wounded." Reves gestured toward the hallway where several already stood, looking remarkably intact.
"Wounded?" Terok frowned. "Then why are they all upright? I thought you said—"
Dr. Hana stepped forward. "They were, Commander. Many were dying. I was among them. Broken ribs, a punctured lung—I was minutes from death. But thanks to 1st Company's medical unit, we had access to a spatial construct with a time-slip dilation. I spent three months inside. Healed fully."
Terok blinked, then looked to Cane—calculating. This wasn't just any artificer. Cane Ironheart had built Cane's Folly. He was, for all intents and purposes, Telamon's nephew. Putting that aside, the fire rings and sword focals that turned normal soldiers into the Fury Legion were all designed and made by him, personally.
"We'll circle back to that," Terok muttered, his voice lower now. "Let me get this straight: 1st and 2nd Battalion eliminated the Dark Shadow Legion… and lost only seven men?"
Reves nodded once. "Our flames of Fury could not be quenched."
Terok barked a sudden laugh, loud and raw. He slammed his palm on the map again, scattering pieces.
"Well said." Terok picked up one of the enemy Legion pieces resting unassigned on the side of the map. Dropping it to the floor he ground it beneath his feet. "And then there were three."