Kaito watched, transfixed, as the golden spear shot upwards on the Scry-Shard feed. It vanished momentarily into the illusion masking the airborne commander. Then, the illusion flickered violently and died. Revealed for a split second was a large, dark wyvern, and astride it, a heavily armored Hobgoblin Chieftain, its face contorted in shock as the silver spear punched clean through its chestplate. The Chieftain slumped forward, lifeless. The wyvern shrieked, losing altitude rapidly as it spiraled down towards the western forest, riderless.
"One hit". Kaito observed, cold calculation momentarily overriding the shock. "With just one shot". Ten pages. The book, Aelric the Last Flame, had dedicated ten excruciating pages to the desperate, bloody duel between Aelric and the Hobgoblin Chieftain atop its wyvern. It was a pivotal battle, showcasing Aelric's heroic endurance, his System's power under pressure, his willingness to sacrifice. It was a cornerstone of the early narrative.
And Aelric had brought it to an abrupt end. With one contemptuous throw of a spear summoned from thin air. Effortlessly. "How did he know exact position of Chieftain?"
Kaito stared at the Scry-Shard feed showing Aelric standing alone in the clearing, spear vanished, golden sword still glowing faintly, seemingly indifferent to the chaos still raging around the village perimeter as the leaderless Goblins and monsters began to falter.
Every step Kaito had taken these past five years – the careful planning, the background act, the alias, the non-interference, the agonizing decision to let Oakhaven burn just to preserve the known timeline – it had all been predicated on the events unfolding as written. He had thought contingencies for minor deviations, for the unexpected appearance of Mizano or Captain Crane, but the core narrative, Aelric's fated path, was supposed to be the constant he could rely on.
Now, that constant was shattered. The battle that should have defined Aelric's early heroism, the struggle that was meant to last ten pages, ended in a heartbeat.
Everything he had tried to preserve... meant nothing.
The story was irrevocably broken. His foreknowledge, his greatest weapon, was now unreliable, potentially useless. The future he had meticulously mapped was dissolving before his eyes.
For a long moment, Kaito said nothing. He just stood there, watching the flickering images on the crystal – the Captain himself kneeling, holding the unconscious form of girl near the well after saving her – feeling a profound, heavy emptiness settle inside him. The controlled detachment fractured, revealing the abyss beneath.
The careful structure he had built his survival upon crumbled. What was the point of knowing the future if the characters refused to play their parts? If the script was gone, then clinging to non-interference was pointless.
"Ravens," he ordered. "New directive. Engage the enemy forces within Oakhaven. Prioritize villagers protection and support Captain Crane's team. Minimize collateral damage, maintain discretion where possible, but eliminate threats swiftly."
A beat of silence, then the leader's rasp from the crystal, "Acknowledged, Prince Lian. Engaging."
On the Scry-Shard feeds, Kaito saw immediate results. Dark shapes blurred from the treeline and rooftops where the Ravens had been hidden. Daggers flashed with lethal speed, finding throats and unarmored joints. Creatures, Goblins and Grak attacking villagers suddenly crumpled, dispatched with silent, brutal efficiency. Arrows, impossibly accurate, struck down insectoid creatures mid-lunge. The pressure on Captain Crane's small squad lessened almost instantly as unseen allies began thinning the enemy ranks around them.
Kaito sank heavily into the chair behind him, his eyes still fixed on the crystal, watching the intervention unfold. The horrified servant boy remained frozen nearby. The game had changed, Kaito had made his move, and now, stripped of his certainty, he could only watch the consequences play out in real-time.