“Ah—Lina! Mmf...” A female Sprite screamed at the sight, then clamped her mouth shut as Medith’s hell-lit gaze snapped over like a lash.

Lina’s wrist was crushed out of shape, bent like a twisted root; her mind went dark like a guttered lamp.

“Get a few healers. Fix it. If you can’t, then leave it.” Medith let the words fall like cold iron, then lifted her longsword and strode forward like a stormfront.

Soon, three cute, green-haired Sprites stepped out, trembling like leaves in rain. “C-cap—Captain... w-we can... heal...”

“If you can, then go. Why ask me?” Medith didn’t look their way, her voice like frost on steel.

They bolted like pardoned prisoners toward Lina; a green glow rose like spring mist. Leaves rustled in, gathered like a quilt, and wrapped the mangled wrist.

“Who just said I had no right to command you? And who said, ‘Put me in and I’ll do it.’ Step out.” Medith’s right hand gripped the sword; her face was a blade of ice.

The Sprites froze, cowed by iron-blooded methods and Medith’s depth like a night sea. They shook like reeds in wind; most had only slain deer, never seen a field of knives.

“I said step out!” Medith’s roar rang like thunder through the trees, her anger rolling out and flushing a flock of birds from the canopy.

“I... I said you had no right to command us...” A short-haired, green-headed Sprite stepped out, sweat running like rain. She shook like a sieve, eyes unfocused, face drained to chalk.

Even standing, she wobbled like a candle in draft, ready to faint at a touch.

Medith grabbed her and steadied her shoulder like a clamp. “Good. That’s the first. Now the second—the one who said ‘I could do it.’ You have three seconds. If you don’t step out, everyone shares her punishment. Resist, and better yet, I’ll show you what ‘Crimson Bloom’ means. Starting now. One.”

“Ah...”

“It wasn’t me...”

“Whoever did it, go yourself...”

“Two.”

“She—she did! I heard her shout it!”

“Yes, it was her!”

“No... I didn’t... I’m not—” They shoved out a female Sprite with a faint scar on her brow, like a pale line of lightning.

“Did you say it?” Medith’s gaze was winter glass, flat and killing.

“I... I...” Her voice frayed like wet paper.

“I’ll give you one chance. Did you say it.” Medith’s eyes were spears; her stare pinned like nails.

Her legs buckled, and she knelt with her knees tucked under like a duck, seiza-still, shaking as if on ice. “Y-yes... it was me... Captain, I didn’t mean—ah—no—don’t—”

Medith seized her hair and dragged her, the motion like a hunter pulling a snared wolf. The girl shrieked down the path, long legs pedaling the dirt like a drowning swimmer clawing water.

Thud! Medith flung her beside Lina like a sack onto stone.

Medith raised her longsword high, point poised like a falling star. “Left hand or right?”

“No, no, Captain, I was wrong, I was wrong, please, please spare me...” The Sprite wept like pear blossoms in rain, arms wrapping Medith’s greaved leg as if hugging a tree in a flood.

Medith’s tone didn’t ripple, flat as a frozen pond. “Left. Or right.”

“Ah—ah—ahh—” The Sprite’s mind snapped like dry twigs; she fell and rolled, thrashing like a fish on shore.

“Captain... please le—”

“Did I let you speak?” Medith’s cut of a voice severed the plea like a blade.

“N-no... sorry...”

“What’s your name?” Medith asked, the question falling like a stone.

The Sprite thought the storm had passed; hope flickered like a moth. “Rita, Rita. I’m Lina’s sister.”

“Good.” Medith slipped through that opening and drove her sword into the left hand braced on the ground, the strike clean as lightning.

“Ah—ah—!” Rita’s scream scoured the forest like a gale, a raw cry that chilled every Sprite like a winter bell.

“Close one... if I’d spoken up, I’d be done...”

“How can a Sprite be this venomous? Not a blink for her own kind?”

“Defy a superior, profane the Queen’s judgment—Captain Medith sparing them is mercy.” Thoughts surged through the ranks like a black tide.

Shlick— Medith drew the blade free, the sound wet as a peeled reed. “Medics. Heal her.”

She slid the sword into its sheath with a quiet click, then stepped before the one who had first stepped forward. “Name?”

The girl’s gaze drifted like a lost kite; Medith tapped her cheek back to earth. The face before her made her flinch like a deer. “I... I... I... u-uh...”

“She’s Iling, reporting, Captain!” another Sprite blurted, courage fluttering like a small flame.

Medith glanced at the speaker like a measuring knife. “Good. Do it like her. If you speak, report first. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain!” The chorus landed like hammers, clear and strong.

“Iling, what do you struggle with most?” Medith’s palm held her small face like a steady clamp.

“H-holding a bow for more than two hours...” Iling answered on reflex, words thin as thread.

“Good. Then hold it for two and a half. If you let go, the count resets. I’ll be watching. If I catch you slacking...” Her promise hung like a noose.

“I won’t, I won’t! I swear I won’t!” Iling swiped tears like rain from her cheeks.

“Start.” Medith turned away, her concern dropping like a curtain.

She faced the crowd and spoke with a calm as flat as a lake at dawn. “Do you know why I did this? To feed some petty ‘hobby’? Or only to throw my weight around?”

No one answered; heads bowed like frost-struck reeds, the air tight as a sealed jar.

Medith shook her head in silence, a small sigh like wind through pines. These girls had paper-thin minds. When she drilled her first litter of cubs, some dared bare their teeth. This batch folded from a ‘minor punishment’ like wet paper.

She spoke with a trace of wistfulness, like dusk on old armor. “First, I’m not posturing. I want you to remember this: never, ever doubt your officer—anytime, anywhere. Obey without condition. Sudden storms and unknowns hit hard; your officer may not have time to explain. You still obey. Your officer sees farther than you think. If you believe you have a better idea, speak it. Most officers will weigh it before deciding. Do you know why I was so cruel to those two sisters? Anyone? Say it. Whatever you say, I won’t punish you.”

Silence settled like snow, but Medith saw one mouth open a fraction, then close like a shy bud.

“You. Yes, you. Say it.” She recognized the Sprite who had reported first.

“Reporting, Captain! I’m Milia. I believe the Captain wasn’t wrong! Lina not only held a grudge against her officer but tried to whip her sisters’ mood to pressure the officer. Rita made a mistake and refused to admit it until she was pushed out!” Milia stood straight like a drawn bow, her voice shaking but true.

“Clap, clap...” Medith brought her hands together, the sound crisp as flint. The others blinked, then hurried to imitate her, applause scattering like rain.

“Look. That’s your model. Never be fooled by surfaces; try to pierce what hides behind things. Of course, that rests on your own blade’s edge; if you can’t see through, don’t feel small. Officers exist to lead you to the bone of a thing. This is your first lesson: never doubt an officer’s decision. Even if everyone thinks it’s wrong. Even if it sends you all to die. You may die, but more lives will be saved, more things spared disaster. If the choice was wrong, someone will bear it. Don’t wear the blame like chains. Have you etched that in your hearts?” Medith’s voice rang like a bronze bell.

“Yes! Etched in heart!” The Sprites answered with iron in their throats, their shout rising like a banner.

Medith nodded, a small ember of satisfaction glowing like coals. Her first goal was set.

She turned her hand and pointed at the Lina Sisters, her finger like a spear. “Now, your second lesson: don’t play clever. Lina doesn’t accept me. That’s fine. Young blood runs hot; pride is a blade, too. If you all obeyed me without a wrinkle from the start, I’d smell ghosts; only hardened veterans manage unconditional obedience. I encourage doubt. Only with it do we move, only with it do we find the cracks. But! Never try to rouse others to carry your mood. You can question me. You can reject me. It’s fine. I’ll make you yield; I’ll win your convinced heart. But! Never try to stir others to question an officer. That’s a battlefield taboo. Understand? Didn’t your captains teach you this?”

“Reporting, Captain! Our captains don’t have the knowledge you hold!” Milia drew breath like a proper soldier. “They taught only basic combat ideas and methods. The elders proposed rolling out basic tactics and war knowledge. But Her Majesty the Queen vetoed it, saying a prosperous peace needs no war.”

A flicker of disbelief crossed Medith’s eyes like a cloud over the moon. She hadn’t thought the Queen sat at the root like a buried thorn. The Queen’s overripe peace had shackled everyone like vines; no wonder humans grew so bold.

Xurenxus City was a flock of lambs, the kind that didn’t even know how to bite.

Looks like she’d have to hammer these ladies hard, or they’d lack even the teeth to save themselves when the wolves came.