Chapter 192: Chapter 185: Fuel for the Breach
By the twenty-second day of the Avarran campaign, Kharos had lost patience with the word necessary.
The eastern quarter had changed hands twice. The canal line had consumed three assault companies. Nightwing formations had been cut apart above the market roofs, and another siege beast had failed before reaching the alliance barricades.
The losses kept rising.
But the front did not move at all.
Kharos entered the western command tower while artillery shook dust from the ceiling.
Varekh stood over the city map, shifting markers between the harbor, the canal, and the eastern road.
Kharos threw the latest casualty report onto the table.
"The Iron Maw lost three companies before midday."
"They advanced too early," Varekh said.
"The Nightwings lost forty fliers."
"They climbed into the goblin guns."
"The western batteries have fired through half their prepared ammunition."
"They will receive more."
Kharos stared at him.
"You have an explanation for every loss."
"Most losses have explanations."
"That does not make them useful."
Varekh moved another marker away from the canal.
Kharos reached across the table and stopped his hand.
"We can cut the eastern road."
"Yes."
"We can force the alliance to supply the city through unstable gates."
"Yes."
"We can shorten the front and stop wasting soldiers over districts neither side can hold."
"also a yes."
"Then why are we doing none of it?"
Varekh looked at him.
"You still believe Avarra is the objective."
"It is the world we invaded."
"It is also the power source."
Kharos’s grip tightened around Varekh’s wrist.
"For what?"
Varekh pulled free and turned toward a narrow stairway beneath the tower.
"Come i will show you."
The passage descended into the old Avarran relay network.
Pale energy moved through the walls in brief surges, followed by darker currents that travelled toward the same point below.
Kharos noticed both immediately.
"That is alliance magic."
"And demonic power," Varekh said.
"They are flowing together."
"no,they are being gathered."
The stairs ended above a vast underground chamber built around Avarra’s captured anchor core.
The core pulsed each time the battle intensified above.
A barrage struck the western district.
Energy rushed through one channel.
An alliance ward flared near the canal.
Another channel brightened.
A planar gate opened beyond the eastern fortress, and the entire chamber answered.
At the center, an enormous demonic array turned around a suspended image of a pale sphere.
The shielded world.
Kharos stepped closer.
The array drew power from the anchor core, compressed it through several rotating rings, and sent a thin dark current toward the shield.
The pale light around the world dimmed by a fraction.
Then recovered.
Kharos watched the process repeat.
"The war powers this."
"Yes," Varekh said.
"And what does the array do?"
"It drains the shield."
Kharos looked toward him.
Varekh continued.
"The shield stores power to maintain its concealment, its rejection field, and the barriers that close minor openings. The array consumes that reserve."
"Slowly."
"Slowly is enough."
Kharos looked back at the projection.
Each pulse removed only a small amount of energy, but the shield was forced to replace what had been lost.
"It will recover."
"For now."
"And what happens when it can no longer maintain itself?"
"It enters its recharge cycle."
Kharos understood.
"The same cycle that weakens it every thousand years."
"Yes."
"But early."
"That is the purpose."
Another surge entered the array.
The shield dimmed again.
Kharos followed the energy back toward the anchor core.
"The bombardments."
"Fuel."
"The wards."
"Fuel."
"The gates."
"Fuel."
"The dead?"
"Their released power contributes, though less than the spells and damaged wards."
Kharos turned slowly.
"So you left the eastern road open to bring in more alliance troops."
"Yes."
"You allowed their engineers to reinforce the city."
"Yes."
"You prolonged the fighting because every day they remain here, they can feed this array."
Varekh gave a slight nod.
"A quick victory would give us Avarra."
"And this gives us another world."
"In time."
Add this shortly after Varekh explains that the Avarran war powers the array:
Kharos studied the turning rings for several breaths.
"Who planned this?"
Varekh’s gaze remained on the shield.
"The first design came from the Obsidian Spire."
"That is where it was built. I asked who planned it."
"An Abyssal Sovereign authorized the project."
Kharos looked at him sharply.
"Which one?"
"One whose name you do not need yet."
"That usually means one whose name you are afraid to say."
Varekh finally glanced toward him.
"Caution and fear are different things."
"And Avarra?"
"That part was mine."
Kharos looked toward the streams of power entering from the battlefield.
"The array needed fuel."
"It needed a constant source strong enough to last for years," Varekh said. "The Obsidian Spire offered cores, prisoners, and corrupted ley lines. None could sustain it."
"So you gave it a war."
"I gave it a war the alliance could not afford to abandon."
Kharos’s expression darkened.
"The Sovereign designed the knife. You chose where to cut."
Varekh turned back toward the shield.
"And how long to keep cutting."
Kharos looked toward the casualty report still folded beneath his arm.
"You are trading our soldiers for years."
"I am spending soldiers to remove them."
The answer silenced him for a moment.
Above them, another barrage struck.
The anchor core brightened, and the array accelerated.
Kharos watched the shield’s reserve dip again.
"How long?"
Varekh said nothing.
Kharos faced him.
"How long before a crack appears?"
"At the current rate?"
"Yes."
"Ten to fifteen years."
Kharos stared at him.
"Years?"
"The shield was built to endure centuries of pressure."
"Then this war must continue for a decade."
"Not at this intensity but yes."
Varekh moved toward the array.
"The array needs a constant supply of power. It does not require both armies to destroy themselves every day."
Kharos’s expression hardened.
"You know you have done a very poor job at demonstrating that."
"The clans needed to believe Avarra could be taken quickly."
"And now?"
"Now the alliance is committed. Their treaty armies have crossed. Their engineers have fortified the anchor fields. Their airships, dragons, ward engines, and legions are all here."
Varekh looked toward the energy channels.
"They cannot withdraw without surrendering the world."
Kharos understood the trap at last.
Varekh had not drawn the alliance into Avarra merely to destroy it.
He had brought them close enough that they could no longer stop fighting.
Every attempt to reclaim the city strengthened the array.
Every demon counterattack kept the alliance from disengaging.
Every repaired ward and reopened gate became another stream of power.
"You do not need to win," Kharos said.
"Not yet."
"You only need the war to continue."
"Yes."
Kharos looked toward the shielded world.
Its pale barrier still appeared complete. No crack crossed its surface. No opening had formed.
Yet each pulse consumed a little more of the power holding it closed.
"Ten to fifteen years is still a long time."
"It is shorter than decades."
"And if the array becomes stronger?"
"The estimate falls."
"If the fighting weakens?"
"It rises."
Kharos glanced toward Varekh.
"So that is why you refused the reserves."
"The canal district did not justify them."
"You allowed the attack."
"The Iron Maw commander chose to proceed."
"And you let him."
Varekh’s expression remained calm.
"I needed to know whether the alliance would answer with another ward engine."
Kharos’s hand moved toward his weapon before stopping.
Three new energy surges entered the core.
The alliance had answered.
Kharos looked at the casualty report again.
The losses had not been meaningless.
But that did not make them acceptable,not even a single bit.
"If this war is fuel," he said, "then stop spilling it without control."
Varekh finally turned toward him.
"What do you propose?"
"Short attacks. Rotating clans. Pressure against their wards and gates without throwing entire formations into prepared streets."
"The alliance may reduce its response."
"Then threaten something they cannot ignore."
"The eastern anchor fields?"
"Or the harbor."
Varekh considered it.
Kharos continued.
"We keep them fighting. We keep the array fed. We also keep enough of our army alive to use the opening when it comes."
A faint smile touched Varekh’s face.
"You have stopped objecting."
"No."
Kharos looked toward the dimming shield.
"I have improved the plan I still object to."
One last thing.
Kharos watched him for a long moment.
"If this fails, all those losses will be yours to account for."
Varekh’s expression did not change.
"They already are."
"No," Kharos said. "If the shield remains closed after you have bled the clans for years, I will make certain you pay for every soldier this plan consumed."
Varekh turned back toward the array.
"Then you should hope it succeeds."
"I do," Kharos replied. "For both our sakes."
The array pulsed again.
The pale barrier weakened by another invisible fraction.
Ten to fifteen years remained before the first crack.
For the world inside, that still sounded distant.
But for the beings who had waited through centuries, it was almost tomorrow.
