"Can you manage this feat, Headmaster?" Duke Pafaheim gradually subdued his feverish enthusiasm, belatedly recalling that the youth before him would be challenging an entire legion of Godman forces. "Is there any way to slow their advance, even for a moment?"

  "There is," Patrick replied, swallowing nervously before continuing with deliberate caution. "I can try to raise a magical barrier to hold them back..."

  "A what?" the duke blurted with undisguised confusion. "A magical barrier," Pip Berlid interjected from his position nearby. "A protective ward, of a sort. It keeps men and beasts out. I saw a sorcerer use one on Kulen Mountain." The principal confirmed with a measured nod.

  "Excellent, most excellent." The duke's hands moved in eager anticipation. "How soon might implementation commence?"

  "The actual activation could occur immediately. However, establishing the barrier's foundation requires extensive preliminary preparations..."

  "Tell me, boy. Tell me what needs to be done."

  "I require," Patrick Fort explained while extracting a glass vial containing lustrous golden powder from his traveling pack, "the distribution of this substance beyond the gate. The barrier's perimeter will correspond precisely with the powder's dispersion pattern." He enunciated with exaggerated clarity, concerned the elderly nobleman might misinterpret his instructions, then unexpectedly elevated his volume.

  "That presents no significant challenge," Duke Pafaheim responded with confident satisfaction. "I need merely dispatch cavalry to distribute it externally."

  "I regrettably must correct that oversimplification, my lord," the young mage countered. "Your meaning?"

  "The incantation can only be performed after complete deployment of the powder. Before that, it's just common dust. A gust of wind, a horse's hoof, and it will be scattered to nothing."

  Ricard Pafaheim lowered himself slowly into his seat. His expression communicated unambiguous consternation at this unforeseen complication. "Posting soldiers as guardians over scattered dust seems patently absurd," Grand Pip grumbled unhelpfully. Both noblemen directed expectant gazes toward Patrick Fort, awaiting further elucidation. The principal anxiously swallowed.

  "I have conceived a potential alternative. Perhaps subsurface integration of the golden powder might prove viable," he suggested with evident trepidation. "You propose burial within the soil?" "Precisely."

  "The approach appears conceptually sound," Grand Pip observed to Ricard. "Such methodology would prevent atmospheric dispersal."

  "Indeed it would," Ricard acknowledged, "though implementation presents its own challenges. What mechanism allows subterranean distribution? Shall soldiers excavate trenches while simultaneously depositing powder? Such inefficient procedure ensures the barrier's activation would occur long after Godman forces have breached our defenses." This secondary complication restored their previously troubled expressions.

  "Absent viable alternatives, surface dispersion remains our only recourse." Patrick Fort lowered his gaze, visibly mortified by his perceived inadequacy. "This represents my most promising conceptualization. Battlefield conditions preclude standard procedural elements such as staff-anchoring or preliminary array-inscription; under such constraints, golden powder constitutes our optimal medium. Any large-scale barrier generated without proper medium exhibits glass-like fragility."

  "Medium utilization represents an absolute requirement?"

  "Not invariably. However, medium-independent barriers suffer from extreme structural vulnerability."

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  A profound, oppressive silence descended upon the three men.

  "Perhaps we possess capacity to accomplish this task," offered a voice lacking absolute confidence.

  "Your continued presence surprises me," Pip Berlid exclaimed with evident astonishment. "I could have sworn I saw the two of you scuttling out the crack in the door like roaches after spilled oil."

  "How profoundly mortifying," Idaho sighed dramatically. "Indeed, utterly humiliating. One wonders whose brilliantly deficient strategy that represented," Halleck remarked while directing a sidelong glance of mischievous accusation toward his sibling. "Our departure lacked significant distance, your lordship. You must understand, goblin auditory capability substantially exceeds human standards..." Idaho interrupted his brother's discourse without ceremony: "I believe we might successfully implement the required procedure, my lord."

  "Your assistance would prove extraordinarily valuable," the duke affirmed. "However, I require explicit operational details. Specify your proposed methodology."

  "The fundamental requirement involves subterranean powder placement, correct?" Halleck indicated the golden substance in Patrick's possession. "Divide the material between two separate containers, then—employing techniques analogous to our message delivery protocols—we shall excavate tunnels and distribute the powder within underground chambers. My intellectually challenged brother and I will initiate operations from opposite sides of the gate, ultimately converging at an external rendezvous point." His abbreviated limbs described a semicircular trajectory in midair. "Through this approach, the resultant magical barrier will encompass the critical gate perimeter."

  "Admirably straightforward," Grand Pip commented approvingly. "What assessment does this proposal merit, Headmaster?" the duke inquired with barely contained eagerness.

  Patrick Fort signaled agreement with a deliberate nod. "The strategy appears fundamentally sound. During these gentlemen's operational phase, I can simultaneously prepare supplementary components necessary for barrier activation."

  "And how will you know when our goblin friends have laid the powder, Headmaster?" Pip Berlid suddenly questioned. Patrick found himself momentarily confounded. (You fool,) he cursed himself. (All that fire, and not a single thought for how it would work. Stupid, so stupid.) "Perhaps some form of visible signal might prove functional... Smoke emissions or similar phenomena..."

  "Godman forces have transformed the battlefield into a crematorial environment," Ricard Pafaheim clarified. "The frontline region currently experiences universal black smoke saturation."

  "Then we'll have to... watch for them through a spyglass," the boy said, offering the simplest solution he could think of. (Pathetic. Utterly mortifying.)

  "We shall proceed accordingly." The duke accepted pragmatically. "Can you execute the incantation from wall-height positioning?"

  "I believe such positioning remains viable."

  "A spyglass shall be provided for your use atop the battlements, where you'll perform the necessary arcane procedures."

  "I shall accommodate that arrangement, my lord."

  "And you two," the duke redirected his attention toward the goblin emissaries, "must implement some unambiguous completion indicator."

  "We shall employ vigorous upper-limb gesticulation," Idaho specified. "Accompanied by vocal projection," Halleck supplemented. "Upon confirmation of your signal, I'll attempt atmospheric elevation of powder particles, after which immediate withdrawal is advisable. Expeditious departure is strongly recommended." The goblins acknowledged with synchronized affirmative head movements.

  "Preparatory measures should commence without delay," Pip Berlid suggested. "Can powder distribution begin immediately?"

  The goblins responded with negative head movements. "Not within municipal boundaries," Halleck stated with uncharacteristic solemnity. "The Wall of Cynthia's foundational structure extends to extraordinary subterranean depths—approximately three thousand feet minimum, according to our intelligence."

  Ricard Pafaheim, Pip Berlid, and Patrick Fort experienced momentary verbal paralysis. "Have I correctly interpreted that figure?" the duke stared incredulously at the goblin siblings. "Three thousand feet?!"

  Idaho confirmed without hesitation. "Minimum three thousand. Potentially greater depth."

  "For what conceivable purpose," Grand Pip attempted to steady himself with a substantial swallow of ale as Ricard Pafaheim continued, "would any rational builder extend defensive structures to such extraordinary depths...? No, my primary confusion centers on your knowledge source regarding substructural architecture."

  Halleck's response provoked universal astonishment among the human occupants. "Because the structure represents our creation, my lord." His demeanor reflected unmistakable pride. "The Wall of Cynthia constitutes the goblin race's premier architectural achievement." Grand Pip's respiratory function nearly failed in response.