The war council convened in Morax's command tent as the sun reached its zenith, casting harsh shadows through the canvas walls.
Maps covered every available surface, marked with symbols representing friendly forces, enemy movements, and the constantly shifting borders that defined the current state of the Archon War.
Cloud Retainer perched on a specially constructed stand, her crane form still bearing visible wounds from the previous day's battle despite her attempts to maintain her usual dignified composure.
Mountain Shaper had manifested in his more compact form, though the strain of doing so showed in the way ancient stone seemed to flicker around his edges.
Three mortal generals completed the council, men and women who had proven their tactical brilliance through years of surviving impossible odds.
"The intelligence reports indicate movement from the eastern territories," General Liu began, pointing to a cluster of red marks on the largest map.
"The god of storms has been recruiting mortal armies from the displaced populations, promising them safety in exchange for military service."
Morax studied the markers with the focused intensity that had kept his people alive through countless campaigns.
The god of storms commanded weather itself, able to call down lightning that could shatter mountains and summon winds that could tear apart entire formations.
More concerning than the god's individual power was their apparent shift toward organized warfare rather than the random destruction that had characterized their earlier activities.
"How many soldiers has he gathered?" Mountain Shaper asked, his voice carrying the weight of millennia.
"Our scouts estimate at least five thousand mortals, plus an unknown number of elemental spirits bound to his service," replied General Chen, a woman whose strategic mind had earned her position despite her relatively young age.
"The concerning factor is the timing of this mobilization coinciding with reports of the sea god's movements in the southern waters."
Cloud Retainer ruffled her feathers in what those familiar with her recognized as deep thought.
"One observes a pattern emerging from these seemingly random movements," she declared with her characteristic formal speech.
"The timing suggests coordination between previously independent powers, a development that requires immediate strategic reassessment."
The possibility of enemy gods forming alliances had always existed, but most divine beings possessed egos too vast to permit genuine cooperation.
Morax had seen temporary partnerships form and dissolve within single battles, as gods who claimed common cause turned on each other the moment victory seemed assured.
If genuine alliances were beginning to form, the nature of the war itself would change dramatically.
"What of our own allies?" Morax asked, though he already suspected the answer.
General Liu's expression confirmed his fears.
"The god of dust continues to maintain neutrality, focusing on protecting her own settlements rather than engaging in offensive operations," she reported.
"The minor gods who pledged support last season have either fallen to enemy action or withdrawn their forces to defend their own territories."
The isolation was complete, then.
Morax's domain stood alone against an increasingly coordinated enemy, protected only by the strength of his own power and the loyalty of those who served under his command.
He had known this moment would come eventually, when the war's progression would force a choice between aggressive expansion and defensive consolidation.
Every strategic decision carried consequences that rippled through the lives of thousands.
Attack the gathering storm god forces before they could fully organize, and leave his own territory vulnerable to assault from other enemies.
Wait for the enemy to make the first move, and potentially face a coordinated assault that his forces might not survive.
The mathematics of war had become a grim calculus of acceptable losses and strategic necessities.
"How long before the storm god's forces are ready for major offensive operations?" he asked.
"Three weeks, perhaps four if their recruitment efforts encounter resistance," General Chen answered.
"However, if they manage to secure alliance with the sea god, they could potentially launch coordinated attacks from both land and water."
Morax nodded slowly, processing the implications of fighting a war on multiple fronts against enemies who commanded the very elements themselves.
His geo powers provided unmatched defensive capabilities, but even the strongest stone could be worn away by persistent wind and water.
"Begin immediate fortification of our coastal settlements," he decided.
"Recall the Third Regiment from their current patrol routes and have them establish defensive positions along the eastern border."
"Lord Morax," Mountain Shaper interjected carefully, "such movements will require abandoning several outlying villages that currently rely on our protection."
The weight of that choice settled over the tent like a suffocating blanket.
Those villages housed families who had pledged their loyalty to his cause, mortals who had rebuilt their lives under the promise of his protection.
Abandoning them to enemy forces would save strategic resources while condemning innocent people to whatever mercy their enemies might show.
"How many civilians would we need to evacuate?" Morax asked, though the question felt like swallowing broken glass.
"Approximately eight hundred souls, mostly farmers and craftsmen," General Liu replied.
"We have transportation capacity for perhaps half that number if we move immediately."
The silence that followed stretched like a chasm between intention and action.
Every person in that tent understood the implications of the choice before them, the difference between eight hundred lives and the potentially thousands more that could be lost if strategic positions fell to enemy assault.
Morax closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of divine responsibility settling deeper into his spirit.
When he opened them again, his expression held the terrible resolve that had carried him through years of impossible decisions.
"Begin the evacuation immediately," he commanded.
"Every life we can save, we will save."
The council dispersed to carry out their orders, leaving Morax alone with maps that showed the shrinking borders of everything he had sworn to protect.