The party assembled at Millbrook's eastern gate precisely at noon.

  Lyria stood near the supply wagons, watching the organized chaos of final preparations. Twelve adventurers, three wagons loaded with supplies, enough weapons and equipment to outfit a small army. This was nothing like the quiet scouting mission she'd been on days ago.

  This was a military operation.

  Helena Stormwind stood at the center of it all, directing the chaos with the ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times before. The Gold-rank adventurer was exactly what Lyria had expected from the stories, tall, imposing, with armor that gleamed despite obvious wear, and a greatsword strapped to her back that looked like it could cleave through stone.

  "Final equipment check!" Helena called out. "I want every weapon sharpened, every potion accounted for, every emergency signal ready. We leave in five minutes."

  The party moved with practiced efficiency. Lyria recognized most of them now, Kara adjusting her sword belt nearby, Garrett conferring with the twin scouts about the route, Mira the healer organizing medical supplies with another healer named Tomas.

  And new faces. Aldris, the barrier mage, a thin, nervous human with the kind of intense eyes that suggested he saw magical theory in everything. Marcus, a dwarf warrior built like a boulder. Senna and Petra, two rangers who'd apparently worked together for years.

  Professional. Experienced. Competent.

  Everything Lyria wasn't sure she was.

  "Lyria." Helena approached, her expression assessing. "Ready for this?"

  "As ready as I can be."

  "Good answer. Honest." Helena's voice lowered. "Aldric briefed me on the situation. You've been to the barrier already; you know what we're facing. That gives you valuable intel I don't have. So, here's how this works, I handle the tactical movement, camp security, logistics. You handle anything involving the barrier itself, the corruption, the magical assessment. We make major decisions together. Clear?"

  "Clear," Lyria said, relieved that Helena wasn't treating her like some legendary figure who should automatically be in charge.

  "Excellent. Then let's move out." Helena raised her voice. "Mount up! Wagons in the center, scouts forward, combat specialists on the flanks. Standard road formation. We've got a long journey ahead."

  The party organized itself with military precision. Lyria found herself near the front with Helena, Silvara riding beside them on a borrowed horse, looking uncomfortable but determined.

  Kara rode up on Lyria's other side. "Big difference from our Bronze-rank contracts."

  "Just a bit," Lyria agreed, watching the wagons roll into position.

  One of those wagons, she noticed, was covered with a canvas tarp. Supplies, probably. Food, tents, emergency equipment. Nothing unusual.

  "Move out!" Helena commanded.

  The party rolled forward, leaving Millbrook behind, heading east toward the failing barrier and whatever waited for them there.

  ***

  The first day of travel was surprisingly smooth.

  With Bram and Brom scouting ahead, the party avoided the worst corruption zones Lyria had encountered on the previous trip. Helena maintained a steady pace, fast enough to cover ground, slow enough to keep the wagons moving safely.

  They passed the first corrupted sites around mid-afternoon. A dead tree, black and twisted. A stream running with dark water. A field where crops had withered overnight.

  "Same as the scouting report described," Garrett confirmed, checking his notes. "Corruption's still spreading, but not faster than before."

  "Yet," Aldris muttered. The mage had been monitoring magical residue constantly, his staff glowing with diagnostic spells. "The ambient dark magic is increasing. Slowly, but consistently. We're getting closer to the source."

  Helena called for a brief rest at a relatively clean water source. While the others refilled waterskins and checked equipment, she pulled Lyria and Silvara aside.

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  "I want your assessment," Helena said bluntly. "Silvara, you're the scholar. Lyria, you've seen the barrier. How bad is this really?"

  Silvara pulled out a worn journal, flipping to a marked page. "The original seal was designed to be self-sustaining. It should have lasted centuries without maintenance. The fact that it's failing now means either the design had a catastrophic flaw, or,"

  "Or someone's actively breaking it," Lyria finished. "We found evidence of ritual circles near the barrier. Fresh ones. Someone's been conducting dark magic right next to the seal."

  Helena's expression darkened. "Sabotage. That's worse than natural failure."

  "Much worse," Silvara agreed. "It means someone wants the Shadowfen unleashed. Someone with knowledge and power."

  "Do we know who?"

  "No," Lyria admitted. "But we'll probably find out when we get there."

  Helena nodded grimly. "Then we stay alert. If someone's actively working against us, they might not take kindly to our interference." She raised her voice. "Five minutes! Then we push on. I want to make the waystation before dark."

  ***

  They reached the waystation as the sun touched the horizon, painting the sky in shades of blood orange.

  The structure was more fortified than Lyria remembered from the scouting trip, hastily erected barriers, makeshift watchtowers, torches being lit against the approaching darkness. And more people. Many more.

  "Refugee camp's grown," Garrett observed. "There's got to be two hundred people here now."

  A dwarf woman approached as they rode up, Kragga, the camp coordinator Lyria remembered.

  "Guild party?" Kragga asked. "About damn time. We've been holding this position for three weeks with volunteers and whatever adventurers were passing through. You here to actually fix this?"

  "We're here to try," Helena said, dismounting. "What's your situation?"

  "Desperate. Refugees keep arriving, corruption keeps spreading, and we're running out of supplies. We've had three attacks in the past week, corrupted animals, nothing the perimeter couldn't handle, but they're getting bolder." Kragga gestured toward the camp. "You're welcome to our space. Not much, but it's better than camping in corrupted territory."

  "We'll take it. And we'll contribute to the defense while we're here." Helena started issuing orders. "Bram, Brom, scout the perimeter. Marcus, Senna, Petra, coordinate with the camp guards on watch rotations. Everyone else, set up camp. We rest tonight, push for the barrier at first light."

  The party dispersed, setting up their section of the camp with practiced efficiency.

  Lyria helped with the wagons, unloading supplies, trying to be useful. The covered wagon with the tarp, she helped unload crates from it, boxes of rations and medical supplies. Nothing seemed unusual.

  "Lyria." Silvara approached. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

  The elf led her to the edge of camp, where the corruption was visible even in the fading light. The ground here was darker, plants withered, the air tasting of metal and rot.

  "This is what we're fighting," Silvara said quietly. "Not just magic. Not just dark energy. This is entropy given form. Corruption that spreads like disease, turning everything it touches into... less. Less alive, less real, less there."

  "How do you stop something like that?"

  "Light. Pure, concentrated magical light. The kind that burns away corruption from the inside." Silvara looked at her. "The kind you wielded against the Void Dragon. At least, according to the records."

  Lyria stared at the corrupted ground, trying to imagine pouring light into it, burning away the darkness. She couldn't even manage a basic torch spell—the simplest cantrip taught to apprentices. How was she supposed to channel purifying light powerful enough to fight entropy itself?

  Her body had done impossible things before, fought without conscious thought, moved with supernatural grace, channeled power she didn't understand. But those had been instinctive, reflexive. This seemed different. More deliberate. More controlled.

  Could it do this too? Could instinct alone be enough?

  "I hope you're right," she said. "Because I don't know how to cast anything. Not deliberately."

  "The power doesn't care about deliberation." Silvara's voice carried absolute certainty. "The Archives don't lie. You'll see. Tomorrow, when we reach the barrier, your power will know what to do."

  Lyria wished she shared that confidence.

  ***

  Night fell over the camp, and with it came the sounds of the corrupted wilderness.

  Howls in the distance. Things moving through the trees. The whisper of wind that carried voices that weren't quite voices.

  The camp's fires burned bright against the darkness, but Lyria could feel the corruption pressing against the light like something alive, patient, waiting.

  She sat near one of the fires with Kara, both of them too tense to sleep.

  "Big day tomorrow," Kara said.

  "Yeah."

  "You scared?"

  "Terrified," Lyria admitted.

  "Good. Means you're not stupid." Kara poked at the fire with a stick. "For what it's worth, I think you'll manage. You've been surprising people since you arrived in Millbrook. No reason to stop now."

  "What if I can't do it? What if everyone's wrong about what I can do?"

  "Then we figure it out together. That's what parties are for." Kara smiled. "You're not alone in this, Lyria. You've got twelve people backing you up. Well, eleven plus Silvara who's more scholar than fighter. But still."

  Lyria managed a small smile. "Thanks."

  "Don't mention it. Now get some sleep. Helena wants to leave at dawn, and she seems like the type who'll drag us out of our bedrolls if we're late."

  Lyria made her way to her tent, exhaustion finally catching up with adrenaline. Tomorrow they'd reach the barrier. Tomorrow she'd have to actually attempt to seal ancient magic using power she barely understood.

  Tomorrow everything would change.

  But tonight, she could rest. Could pretend for a few more hours that she was just a Bronze-rank adventurer who'd gotten in over her head, rather than the legendary hero everyone needed her to be.

  She fell asleep to the sound of guards changing watch and fires crackling against the dark.

  And somewhere in the covered wagon, unnoticed by anyone, a boy shifted uncomfortably among the supply crates, trying not to make noise, determined to see this adventure through no matter what Miss Lyria had said about staying safe.

  Tomorrow would bring revelations neither of them expected.

  But tonight, they both rested.

  The darkness could wait one more night.