Arcane Warfare: From the Ashes of a Disposable Soldier

 As the camp stirred to life, preparing for its retreat, the weight of the journey ahead settled heavily on Cedar's shoulders. The progress with the Purify magic had been promising, but it wasn't enough.

 The spell's conversion rate was a flaw they couldn't ignore—only a fraction of the mana purified actually made its way into Ivan's core.

 Three out of ten parts, to be exact. But even that small portion had been enough to push Ivan to the third circle, a significant step forward. 

 Cedar, on the other hand, had yet to make a breakthrough of his own. His third circle remained stubbornly out of reach, despite his best efforts.

 Two days passed quickly, the camp moving with calculated efficiency as it readied for the retreat. The defense of important cities like Operon now fell to mages of lower rank—mages like Cedar and Ivan.

 It was clear the war was shifting. With the most powerful mages redirected to the frontlines, strategic cities were becoming more important, and the remaining forces had to adapt quickly.

 Cedar's thoughts drifted back to the conversation with Len.

 The ancient vampire had made it clear: there was no going back. The world was on the brink of something far greater than the current war—a power shift that threatened to consume everything. But first, there was their destination, Operon.

 The march to the city would be difficult. There were rumors of Imperium scouts already in the area, and the retreat would take several days—too many to be fully confident in their safety.

 Finally, orders came down. Cedar and Ivan were assigned to a group of five mages, to be led by a fourth-circle mage—someone far stronger and more experienced than they were.

 They would need a seasoned commander to navigate the dangers of the retreat. The mages gathered, lining up in neat rows, each of them steeling themselves for the trials to come.

 The woman who stood before them, Commander Liera Veran, was a sight to behold. Her sharp features and piercing gaze left no room for doubt. She exuded authority and confidence, qualities that only a veteran of many battles could possess.

"Attention!" she barked, her voice clear and commanding.

 Everyone snapped to attention, as if instinctively recognizing the power she wielded.

 The roll call began, each name called with precision, and each mage responding firmly.

"Ivan K. Asterius!"

"Present!" Ivan replied, stepping forward with quiet confidence. The other mage observed him for a moment, caught off guard by his striking looks; even Commander Veran paused for a few seconds, taken in by his appearance.

"Cole Irneb!"

"Present!" answered a tall, dark-haired man with a scar running across his cheek. He bore a demeanor that suggested he had faced many battles.

"Cedar Caliane!"

"Present!" Cedar called out, standing tall and proud, though he felt a knot of tension in his gut.

 Commander Veran nodded, having finished the roll call. Her sharp eyes scanned over each of them, noting the young mages in their midst, but also recognizing their potential. She knew what the stakes were.

"We've been ordered to regroup at Operon City. This is not a retreat in the traditional sense," she explained, her voice steady and commanding. "It's a tactical repositioning. The higher-ranking mages will leave to handle larger threats. Our job is to ensure that Operon remains standing until reinforcements arrive. We hold the line. No matter what."

 Her gaze lingered on Cedar and Ivan for a moment, and her expression hardened.

"I know that many of you are still learning to harness your magic. But out there," she pointed into the distance, "that won't matter. What matters is survival. You will follow orders, and you will fight with everything you have."

 There was no room for doubt in her voice; she meant every word.

"Our formation will be tight. Ivan, Cedar, you'll be on the flanks, supporting with defensive and mid-range magic. Cole, I'll leave the frontal assault to you. The rest of you, focus on the perimeter. We'll move as one unit, and we'll keep it tight. I'll keep an eye on the battlefield. Stay alert."

 Cedar and Ivan exchanged a glance. The weight of their responsibility pressed down on them. This was no longer about training or honing skills. This was war. Real war.

 As Commander Veran finished her orders, she gave a sharp nod. "We move at dawn. Get your rest, and prepare yourselves. There will be no time for hesitation once we start. Operon City's survival depends on all of us."

 The finality in her voice echoed through the group. Cedar felt his heart beat a little faster. The city was counting on them. They couldn't afford to fail.

 The night fell quickly, and the camp was alive with the muted sounds of preparation. Some mages gathered around campfires, sharpening weapons or reviewing maps. Others checked their supplies, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.

 Cedar and Ivan sat together near their fire, each lost in their thoughts as the flickering flames cast long shadows across the ground.

"We're really in it now," Ivan muttered, staring into the fire. His voice held a mix of wonder and dread.

"Yeah," Cedar replied, his gaze fixed on the shifting flames. "But we're not alone. We have each other." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Ivan or himself.

 Ivan sighed and leaned back on the ground. "Do you think we'll make it to Operon?" His voice was heavy with fatigue, and his eyes showed the weariness from everything they had been through.

"We will," Cedar said, his voice quieter but filled with conviction. "We just need to take the next step. Survive, one step at a time. Besides, we are growing stronger now. With Len's help, it's just a matter of time before we become formidable ourselves."

 The fire crackled, and for a moment, everything else seemed distant. The world outside the camp—filled with uncertainty and threats—seemed far away.

 But that wouldn't last. In the morning, the march would begin, and Operon would either stand or fall. Cedar could feel it deep within him—the gravity of the situation.

 Len's voice echoed faintly in the back of his mind. "Get stronger. Survive."

 Cedar whispered the words to himself, trying to focus his mind. "Survive."

As the night grew colder, the camp settled into a quiet stillness. This would be their last night at the Ioruk camp.

 Cedar closed his eyes, though sleep eluded him. His thoughts were consumed by the journey ahead. The road to Operon was fraught with dangers—Imperium forces and possibly worse.

 As always, he wasn't sure he could survive, but he would keep struggling until his last breath, just as he always had.

 At dawn, the camp stirred once more. The sound of boots on dirt, the rustle of tents being taken down, and the final preparations filled the air.

 The early morning light broke over the horizon as the camp came alive. A low murmur of voices, the sound of boots against dirt, and the rustling of tents as they were packed up filled the air.

 Cedar stood with Ivan, the two of them preparing their gear for the long march ahead. The weight of their packs seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.

 It wasn't just the supplies they had to carry—it was the responsibility that came with them. Every piece of equipment, every ration, every spell, was another piece of the puzzle that would determine whether they survived the days ahead.

 Around them, the camp was buzzing with energy as the remaining mages scrambled to make last-minute preparations. Several of the mages from other squads were double-checking their spells, while others made sure their weapons were sharp and their magical components were secure.

 The Union's engineers and logistics teams had been working tirelessly overnight to ensure that the retreat would go as smoothly as possible. The supply wagons were packed, each one brimming with food, water, and medical supplies.

 Even magical resources like enchanted crystals for light and heat were carefully loaded.

 The mood, however, was somber. The weight of the upcoming journey, with its dangers and uncertainties, hung over the entire camp like a thick fog.