Three days of patient observation had yielded valuable intelligence about the Heroes' encampment in the valley below. Tom had meticulously documented patrol patterns, security rotations, and supply movements, building a comprehensive picture of their operations with the practiced eye of a veteran scout. The Heroes themselves made only occasional appearances—brief glimpses of distinctive figures moving between tents or conferring with military commanders—but their presence was unmistakable in the camp's organization and the unusual energy patterns that occasionally manifested above certain structures.
"They're preparing for something," Tom noted on the morning of the fourth day, studying the increased activity visible through a gap in the foliage that concealed their observation post. "Supply wagons arriving, patrol frequencies increasing, tactical formations drilling in the eastern field."
"Indeed," Skaravosk agreed, his mental voice reflecting the same analytical precision that had served them well during their partnership. "The pattern suggests preparation for significant operations rather than defensive positioning. They anticipate movement rather than static engagement."
Tom shifted position slightly, his enhanced vision focusing on a particular tent near the center of the encampment—larger than those surrounding it, with guards posted in a pattern that suggested protection of command assets. "The activity level increased after we retrieved their response from Widow's Crossing. They must be mobilizing based on the intelligence about Frostpeak Citadel."
"A logical assessment," Skaravosk replied. "Their resources are substantial but not unlimited. Prioritizing verified threats would constitute effective strategic management."
He had just begun another systematic scan of the encampment's perimeter when Skaravosk's awareness suddenly sharpened.
"Movement approaching our position," the dragon warned, his mental voice carrying the precision that came from millennia of predatory vigilance. "Northwest slope, approximately half a kilometer distant. Single entity, moving with purpose rather than random exploration."
Tom immediately shifted to maximum alertness, extending his enhanced senses in the indicated direction. He detected it moments later—the distinctive sound pattern of someone navigating steep terrain with practiced skill, avoiding loose rocks and dry branches with deliberate care. Not the random noise of wildlife, but the calculated quiet of trained human movement.
"Scout," Tom identified, already calculating defensive options. "Moving too directly toward our position for coincidence. They know we're here, or at least suspect it."
"Retreat or engagement?" Skaravosk inquired, the question reflecting their evolved partnership—strategic options presented for joint decision rather than independent action.
Tom considered rapidly. Their observation hollow offered excellent concealment but limited escape routes. Running would expose them during withdrawal, while remaining in place risked discovery by a scout clearly skilled enough to have tracked them to this remote location. Transformation might provide overwhelming advantage but would confirm their unusual nature to any observer.
"Controlled engagement," he decided. "Intercept before they reach our position, determine intent and identity, then adapt accordingly."
"A balanced approach," Skaravosk approved. "Minimal enhancement recommended—just enough for effective interception without revealing our true capabilities unless necessary."
Tom nodded, channeling a measured amount of draconic energy to enhance his speed, strength, and senses without visible transformation. The familiar warmth flowed through his body, sharpening his awareness and accelerating his reflexes to superhuman levels while maintaining normal human appearance.
He moved with silent efficiency, circling to approach the intruder from behind rather than directly opposing their advance. The rocky terrain offered numerous concealment options that Tom exploited instinctively, becoming nearly invisible despite movement through areas that would have exposed less skilled operators.
As he closed the distance, details about the approaching scout became clearer. Female, medium build, moving with the economy of motion that characterized experienced field operatives. Not standard military—the pattern suggested specialized training beyond conventional forces. She carried minimum equipment, optimized for mobility rather than extended operations, and moved with the confident precision of someone following a specific trail rather than conducting general reconnaissance.
Tom positioned himself carefully, selecting ambush coordinates that offered both advantage and control—a natural bottleneck where rocky outcroppings narrowed the approach path, creating an ideal interception point with minimal escape options for the target. With perfect stillness, he waited as the scout approached, timing his intervention for maximum effect and minimal risk.
When she was three meters from his position, Tom made his move—not attacking but simply stepping into view with deliberate control, positioning himself to block the path forward while maintaining sufficient distance for conversation without immediate threat.
"That's far enough," he said quietly, his voice firm but not aggressive.
The scout froze, her hand instinctively moving toward a weapon before visibly controlling the reaction. As she straightened, raising her head to face the unexpected obstruction, Tom felt shock ripple through him.
Mira.
His former squad-mate stood before him, her face thinner and more weathered than he remembered, but her eyes carrying the same alert intelligence that had made her one of the unit's most effective scouts. Recognition flashed across her features, followed by a complex mixture of emotions—surprise, disbelief, and something approaching wary hope.
"Reed," she said flatly, her voice steady despite the shock evident in her posture. "Or whatever you are now."
Tom maintained his position, careful to make no threatening movements despite the tension crackling between them. "Hello, Mira. Been a while."
"Three months since Howling Crag," she replied, her hand still hovering near her weapon but not drawing it. "Where we all thought you died. Where something with your face apparently didn't stay dead."
"It's complicated," Tom acknowledged, studying her with the same careful assessment she was applying to him.
"Jenks said you looked younger," Mira noted, her eyes narrowing as she cataloged the changes in his appearance. "He was right. Decades younger. And he also mentioned you jumping from a second-story window without injury." Her expression hardened. "What are you?"
This direct question hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Tom considered possible responses, weighing truth against safety, past loyalty against current necessity.
Caution would suggest deflection or deception, Skaravosk noted internally. But such approaches rarely succeed against those who knew you well in your previous existence.
"Still me," Tom replied finally, opting for simplified truth. "But changed. Reconstructed, you might say, after what should have been a fatal encounter in the Howling Crag dungeon."
"Reconstructed," Mira repeated, the word carrying equal parts skepticism and recognition. "By what? Dungeon energies don't just rebuild dead men into younger versions with supernatural abilities."
"No," Tom agreed. "They don't. There were... other factors involved. Entities with the power to achieve what conventional forces couldn't."
Mira's expression remained guarded, but Tom could see the tactical assessment happening behind her eyes—weighing his responses against observed facts, comparing the being before her with the comrade she had known for years. Her hand gradually moved away from her weapon, though her stance remained ready for immediate action if needed.
"You're alone," Tom observed, extending his enhanced senses to confirm no additional forces waited nearby. "Which means either you're on an unsanctioned solo mission, or you've been officially tasked with confirming Jenks's report without committing significant resources to what might be wild speculation."
A flicker of something—perhaps reluctant admiration—crossed Mira's face. "Still thinking like a soldier, I see. Analyzing approaches, calculating motivations." She paused, then nodded once. "Solo reconnaissance. Varn authorized limited investigation while he and Jenks pursue other priorities with the Heroes."
"The message," Tom surmised. "They're trying to intercept it at Oakhollow."
"They already tried," Mira replied, studying his reaction carefully. "And failed. Your textile merchant friend was cleverer than expected. Message reached its destination before they arrived."
Tom allowed a small smile to cross his face despite the tension of their confrontation. "Good for her. Professional pride in delivery services apparently extends to countersurveillance measures."
An unexpected sound interrupted their exchange—a soft, almost musical chime emanating from a small device Mira wore at her belt. She glanced down at it briefly, then back at Tom with renewed wariness.
"Interesting," she said, her voice cooling noticeably. "The detection amulet the Heroes provided us just activated. It's designed to identify non-human energy signatures within twenty meters." Her hand returned to her weapon, though she didn't draw it. "Care to explain that, Reed? Or whatever you actually are?"
Tom processed this new complication rapidly. The detection device eliminated certain strategic options—particularly continued denial of his altered nature. If the Heroes had technology capable of identifying non-human energies at close range, pretending to be merely an unusually resilient human wouldn't be sustainable.
"As I said, reconstruction involved other factors," he replied carefully. "The details are... complicated."
"Try me," Mira challenged, her voice hardening. "Because right now I'm standing alone on a mountainside with something that resembles my dead comrade but registers as non-human on Hero-enchanted detection equipment. And that puts me in a difficult position regarding my duty to report exactly what I've found."
Decision point, Skaravosk observed internally. Continued ambiguity may prove more dangerous than calculated disclosure.
Tom nodded imperceptibly, acknowledging the dragon's assessment. Full revelation remained too risky, but Mira deserved some measure of truth after their years serving together—enough to contextualize what she was seeing without necessarily exposing Skaravosk's specific nature.
"I died in that dungeon," Tom began, maintaining a non-threatening posture despite the tension of their standoff. "At least, by any conventional definition. Mortal wounds, no possible medical intervention that could have saved me. But the dungeon at Howling Crag wasn't just a random corruption zone. It contained... entities... with capabilities beyond normal understanding."
Mira listened with professional focus, her expression revealing nothing of her internal assessment of this explanation.
"One such entity offered reconstruction rather than oblivion," Tom continued. "My consciousness preserved but body remade, enhanced with energies that register as non-human because they originated from non-human sources. I'm still Reed—same memories, same core identity—but the physical form and capabilities have been... upgraded, for lack of a better term."
"Possessed?" Mira asked bluntly. "Sharing your body with something else?"
Tom hesitated, considering how to frame the nature of his partnership with Skaravosk without revealing specifics that might trigger immediate military response protocols.
"Partnered would be more accurate," he replied finally. "Cooperative rather than dominated. Mutual interest in survival rather than exploitation."
The detection amulet at Mira's belt continued its soft chiming, apparently confirming the supernatural nature of what stood before her. She studied Tom for several long moments, assessing his posture, expression, and the subtle mannerisms that might confirm or contradict his claim of preserved identity.
"The Demon King has entities that possess humans," she noted, maintaining tactical distance between them. "Whisper Priests, corrupted commanders, puppets with crystals embedded in their skulls. How is what happened to you any different?"
"Consent," Tom answered simply. "Choice rather than domination. And opposition to the Demon King's plans rather than service to them."
This claim visibly surprised Mira, her professional mask slipping momentarily to reveal genuine interest. "Opposition? You're fighting against the Demon King?"
"Actively," Tom confirmed. "The message your companions failed to intercept contained intelligence about the Demon King's dimensional working at the Stone Crown—details that only someone who was present during its disruption would know."
"You were at the Stone Crown?" Mira's eyebrows rose slightly. "The Heroes reported a massive energy discharge there, some kind of catastrophic dimensional collapse. They believed it was another draconic manifestation after centuries of absence."
Tom carefully controlled his expression at this confirmation that the Heroes had indeed detected Skaravosk's full manifestation, though apparently without identifying them specifically.
"I was there," he acknowledged, offering truth without elaboration. "The Demon King's forces were attempting a major dimensional working—something they called 'the King's ascension.' My... partner and I disrupted it before completion."
Mira processed this information with visible calculation, weighing it against whatever intelligence she had received from official channels. The tension in her posture gradually shifted from imminent combat readiness to cautious assessment—still alert but less overtly hostile.
"Why the message to the Heroes?" she asked finally. "Why not direct contact if you're opposing the same enemy?"
"Would you have approached beings of their power without preparation, carrying energy signatures they might immediately classify as hostile?" Tom countered. "The message was intended to establish credibility through shared intelligence before potential direct communication."
This reasoning appeared to register as legitimate with Mira, her tactical mind recognizing the pragmatic approach. The detection amulet at her belt continued its soft alert, but she seemed less focused on it now, more interested in the strategic implications of their conversation.
"So what now, Reed?" she asked after a thoughtful pause. "I've found you, confirmed you exist in some transformed state, and learned you claim to be actively opposing the Demon King. My duty would typically require reporting all this immediately."
"But?" Tom prompted, sensing the implicit continuation.
"But twenty years serving together counts for something," Mira replied, her expression softening slightly. "As does the fact that you saved my life more times than I can count. So I'm giving you an opportunity to convince me that reporting your exact nature and location serves the kingdom's interests less than whatever alternative you might propose."
An unexpected opening, Skaravosk noted internally. Her personal history with you creates tactical opportunities that wouldn't exist with other military personnel.
Tom nodded slightly, acknowledging both Mira's offer and Skaravosk's observation. "The Heroes received our message. They've already responded, providing information about other potential targets similar to the Stone Crown. Instead of potentially compromising that communication channel with premature reports about my nature, you could allow the information exchange to develop—see what intelligence they gain that might actually help defeat the Demon King."
"And if they ask specifically about reports of a transformed soldier operating in their vicinity?" Mira challenged.
"Report what you've confirmed—that Reed exists in an altered state, opposes the Demon King, and provided accurate intelligence about the Stone Crown working," Tom suggested. "Let them decide whether that justifies alliance discussions or conflict."
Mira considered this proposal, her expression revealing the complex calculation of duty versus pragmatism, official protocols versus battlefield adaptability. The skills that had kept her alive through countless dangerous missions now applied to a situation no military training had prepared her for.
"Three days," she decided finally. "I'll delay specific reporting for three days, giving whatever communication channel you've established time to develop. After that, I make full disclosure to my command structure." Her eyes hardened slightly. "And Reed—or whatever you are now—if I discover this is manipulation, if you're not what you claim... I will hunt you myself."
"Fair terms," Tom agreed, recognizing both the concession and the warning it contained. "Thank you, Mira."
She nodded once, then reached beneath her tunic to withdraw something suspended on a leather cord—a silver dagger with worn leather wrappings on the hilt. Tom recognized it immediately as his backup blade, the one he'd carried strapped to his left forearm for years.
"The Heroes found this in the dungeon after you... after what happened at Howling Crag," Mira explained, holding it up so the morning light glinted off its polished surface. "I've carried it since then. Reminded me that even unremarkable soldiers could make remarkable differences when it mattered."
Tom felt an unexpected tightness in his chest at the sight of the familiar weapon—a tangible connection to his former life, and evidence that his sacrifice had meant something to those he'd left behind.
"Keep it," he said quietly. "It served its purpose for me. Maybe it brings you better luck."
Mira studied him for a long moment, then carefully tucked the dagger back beneath her tunic. "Three days, Reed. Make them count." She began to turn away, then paused. "And whatever you've become... try not to forget who you were."
With that, she departed, moving back down the slope with the same careful efficiency that had marked her approach. Tom watched until she disappeared among the rocks and scattered pines, emotions more complex than he had anticipated swirling beneath his controlled exterior.
"That was... unexpected," he said finally, returning to their observation hollow once he confirmed Mira wasn't circling back for additional surveillance.
"Yet potentially advantageous," Skaravosk observed. "Her personal connection to you created an opening that might not have existed with other military personnel. Three days of operational freedom before full disclosure represents significant tactical advantage."
"Assuming she honors that agreement," Tom noted, though without real doubt in his voice. Mira had always been someone whose word, once given, remained unbroken regardless of circumstances.
"Your assessment of her character suggests high probability of compliance," the dragon replied. "More concerning is the Heroes' detection technology. If they possess amulets capable of identifying non-human energy signatures at close range, our ability to approach undetected for potential direct communication becomes significantly compromised."
Tom nodded, settling back into their concealed position to resume observation of the valley encampment. "We'll need to factor that into our planning. Though it's encouraging that they specifically designed detection equipment after the Stone Crown incident—suggests they recognize new players have entered the game beyond just the Demon King's forces."
Their vigilance was rewarded sooner than expected. By mid-afternoon, unusual activity became visible in the Heroes' camp—movement patterns suggesting significant operational mobilization rather than routine activities. Equipment was being loaded onto wagons, patrol patterns adjusted to facilitate convoy security, and what appeared to be final briefings conducted among unit leaders.
"They're deploying," Tom observed, noting the purposeful efficiency of the preparations. "Not just a patrol or limited operation—looks like a major force movement."
"The directional orientation suggests movement toward the northwest," Skaravosk added, analyzing the staging patterns. "Consistent with the location of Frostpeak Citadel indicated on the map they provided."
Tom tracked the preliminary movements with professional assessment, recognizing the signs of an imminent departure. "If they're mobilizing for Frostpeak based on our intelligence, that validates our approach. The communication channel is working as intended."
"Indeed," Skaravosk agreed. "Though it also creates tactical decision points regarding our next actions. Do we maintain observation of their base camp, follow their deployment, or proceed independently?"
Tom considered these options carefully, weighing potential intelligence value against operational risks. "We follow at safe distance," he decided. "If they're targeting Frostpeak based on our information, observing their approach and methods provides valuable insight without compromising our independence."
"A reasonable balance," the dragon approved. "Though maintaining sufficient separation to avoid detection while preserving observation capability will require careful execution."
They watched as the Heroes' force completed preparations and began departure—an impressive display of military efficiency despite the relatively small size of the operational group. Tom estimated approximately one hundred personnel total, with the Heroes themselves traveling in a protected formation near the center of the convoy. Supply wagons, mounted scouts, and what appeared to be specialized support units completed the battle group—substantial enough for meaningful action but mobile enough for rapid deployment across challenging terrain.
"Time to move," Tom decided as the last elements of the Heroes' force departed the valley encampment. "We'll parallel their route while maintaining terrain advantage—high ground, good visibility, multiple withdrawal options if detection becomes imminent."
With practiced efficiency, they gathered their minimal gear and began the careful process of trailing the Heroes' force without exposing themselves to observation. Tom selected a route along elevated ridgelines that provided excellent visibility of the valleys below while keeping them well beyond range of conventional detection methods. His enhanced capabilities allowed rapid movement across terrain that would have slowed ordinary trackers significantly, enabling them to maintain effective surveillance despite the growing distance between observation points.
By late afternoon, the pattern of the Heroes' advance had become clear—a determined push northwest toward Frostpeak Citadel, their pace suggesting urgency rather than casual exploratory movement.
"They're not conducting reconnaissance," Tom noted as they paused on a rocky outcropping that offered good visibility of the convoy's progress through a narrow valley below. "This is a deliberate strike force moving to engage a confirmed target."
"The intelligence we provided appears to have prompted immediate action rather than further verification," Skaravosk observed. "Suggesting they already possessed corroborating information that aligned with our communication."
"Or they trust our intelligence more than we anticipated," Tom suggested. "Either way, they're committing significant resources to this operation."
They continued their parallel tracking as daylight began to fade, maintaining visual contact despite increasing distance as the Heroes' force entered more confined terrain that limited optimal observation points. When darkness finally made further pursuit impractical, Tom selected a sheltered position that balanced security with continued surveillance capability come morning.
"We'll rest here," he decided, establishing a minimal cold camp in a natural rock hollow that offered both concealment and protection from the increasingly chill mountain wind. "Continue pursuit at first light, adjusting route based on their overnight position."
As Tom prepared their spartan accommodations, Skaravosk extended his awareness beyond normal sensory range, a capability that had strengthened significantly during their recovery period after the Stone Crown confrontation.
"There's unusual energy activity approximately twenty kilometers northwest," the dragon reported after several minutes of concentration. "Consistent with the corrupted signature we encountered at the Stone Crown but more substantial in scale."
"Frostpeak?" Tom asked, though the answer seemed obvious.
"Most likely," Skaravosk confirmed. "The pattern suggests another dimensional Working in advanced stages of development. The Heroes appear to be advancing directly toward it, though they remain at least half a day's travel from effective engagement range."
Tom absorbed this information with the focused calculation that had characterized his military career. "So we're observing a race to Frostpeak—Heroes mobilizing to counter a Working already well underway. Timing will be critical."
"Indeed. And having witnessed both the Stone Crown and observed the aftermath of our intervention, the Heroes likely have developed countermeasures specifically designed for these dimensional manipulations."
As night fully claimed the mountains, Tom settled into the efficient rest pattern of a veteran field operative—light sleep cycles interspersed with alert periods, never fully unconscious but recovering sufficient energy for continued operations. Skaravosk maintained peripheral awareness throughout, their complementary capabilities creating surveillance coverage that would have required multiple conventional operators.
Morning arrived clear and cold, with frost coating the rocks around their position. Tom was fully alert instantly, extending his senses to assess both immediate surroundings and the valleys below where the Heroes' force had established overnight camp.
"They're already moving," he noted, observing the convoy resuming its advance with the first light of dawn. "No delay despite difficult terrain and minimal rest. Whatever they know about Frostpeak has created significant urgency."
"The energy pattern has intensified overnight," Skaravosk added, his awareness extended toward their ultimate destination. "The Working appears to be approaching critical development phases."
Tom quickly prepared for continued pursuit, consuming cold rations while assessing optimal routes for the day's tracking operations. As they departed their night position, a distant sound carried clearly through the thin mountain air—a distinctive thunderclap that didn't match natural weather patterns.
"The Storm Caller," Tom identified immediately, recognizing Hiroshi Nakamura's signature power manifestation. "Combat application rather than travel enhancement. The Heroes' advance elements have engaged hostiles."
"Correct," Skaravosk confirmed, focusing his awareness more precisely. "Approximately fifteen kilometers ahead. The energy discharge patterns suggest defensive response rather than offensive application—likely perimeter forces protecting the Working site."
Tom adjusted their route immediately, selecting the most direct path that balanced speed with continued concealment. "We need closer observation of this engagement. If they're already encountering resistance, the Frostpeak operation is further advanced than anticipated."