“Whoosh!” Several female sprites pressed their skirts and leapt from the treetops. “Captain, they’ve cleared Verdant Spirit Mountain’s bounds.”

Medith nodded, a cool wave passing through her eyes; they were truly scared.

“Captain!” The Lita Sisters’ squad came out, carrying several disheveled female sprites. They looked unconscious. “Are they okay?” Medith’s gaze flashed like a blade, anger glinting.

Rita shook her head. “They’ll live. We found two male corpses with severed hands—looks like their captain killed them. Those human lookouts weren’t lying. Their rules still forbid this.”

“Get them out first. We pull back. This operation… was a clean success.” Medith raised her sword, voice ringing like cold iron on stone.

“Oh—ah!” The sprites roared, laughter like water over pebbles, hugging tight. Some sisters’ eyes shone with tears like dew.

Lina carried a soft, limp sprite; her hands clasped those lotus-pale legs. Her mind drifted back to seven days ago…

…

Earlier—at the very start of Medith’s training of the sprites.

Medith faced a ring of shy sprites, their eyes like timid fawns. They were small, and by Elf Clan years, not even thirty.

Her sword traced a silver arc. “If your captain won’t teach you, I will. Time’s short, learn what you can. This isn’t play or drills. This is war.

Today you laugh hand in hand; tomorrow you could be scattered like leaves on the wind. Don’t be fooled by surface peace. Humans are already restless, already probing our bounds to hunt. Against that, only iron-blood answers.

Do you understand?”

She drew her blade and lifted it to the sky like a beacon. The crowd caught fire and shouted, “Yes!”

Medith read their faces and gave a small nod. Still fragile reeds, but at least they bent in the right wind.

“Back to the point. Why can’t you incite others to question a commander? Didn’t I say bring up issues?

Listen. I mean battlefield taboos.

What are taboos? From the instant war ignites, every place, person, and thing must obey strict law. I’ll name it—the Military Code. Burn this word into your heart.

Questioning is for peacetime. When there’s no war, you can question, even in chorus. There’s time to dissolve doubt.

But in war, chances slip like rain off pine needles. You don’t know the next heartbeat. So we obey the Code without condition.

Lina is a clear example. If she stirs you on the field, makes you doubt orders and waste time, I won’t sugarcoat it—we’re done. The line’s done.

Family’s done. Clan’s done. The kingdom’s done. Everything’s done.

Her kind on the field? I leave no room. One thrust, end it. She’s breaking minds, breaking order. Remember—on the battlefield, never, ever question your commander.

With a strange commander, obey even harder. If someone like Lina appears, don’t hesitate. One warning is enough. If she keeps going, you finish it for me. We have no time for anything else.

As for Rita—she erred, then tried to dodge the weight. Errors aren’t scary if you dare to carry them. The Code will judge.

If you don’t dare, fine. The Code won’t apply to you. I am the Code. I hold full authority to deal with you, even kill you.” Medith spoke on, and mouths fell open like gates in a storm.

Eyes widened, shock rippling like wind through wheat. Medith didn’t press further. This knowledge ran ahead of their years; it takes time to swallow.

No rules, no shape; an army even more so. They lacked a sense of time, lacked basics. If desperadoes stormed in, with only a few elders and a few hundred guards who’d never seen real blood, the city might as well be bare walls in a gale.

“We heed the captain’s teaching!” For the first time, firmness lit their faces, fragile petals stiffening in a cold wind.

“From this breath on, you’re family, friends, comrades, sisters. One body. No ‘me,’ only ‘us.’ Clear?

You’re the Vortex Squad. You’re little leaves. You’re my fighters. I’ll split you into batches and pick leaders. Volunteer if you can.”

Her words fell, and the women went quiet as a moonlit pond. A moment later they stood straight and called, “Yes, Captain!”

Medith nodded, then said, “Training starts now. Your first live tactic is: run.

Run. It sounds shameful, but it’s the essence of a stratagem. When do we run? When don’t we? Why do we run?

Human gear and force outstrip ours. I don’t like it, but it’s truth. If we won’t face it, we turn arrogant.

So your first lesson is to run.

On my order, split into two teams. One plays humans. One holds its role. The human team uses low-damage training arrows and Wind Magic leaves to strike the sprite team.

Do not kill. Injuries are allowed, malice is not.

The sprite team won’t fight back. Only run. Run with all you have. Dodge with all you have. Defend with all you have. Run till you’re wrung dry, till your mana runs empty.

Disperse—”

Her command dropped. The women froze a blink, then split fast into two groups. Just then, sixteen remaining female sprites arrived, five hours late. Dusk draped the woods in smoky violet.

Medith said nothing, folding them into the lines. They seemed ready to speak, but other sprites tugged them in and whispered like leaves.

After listening, they glanced at Lina and Rita, fear flitting like a shadow across their faces.

“Begin—!” Medith drew her blade and chopped down a tree for the signal. The sprites burst forward like startled swallows.

They moved light and quick, nimble as monkeys threading branches. The sprite team clustered, trying to block.

The human team flipped their hands and loosed a rain of arrows and Wind Magic leaves, nicking most of the sprite team. Faces, legs, and arms bloomed with thin blood lines.

“Don’t bunch up! Want to be bagged in one go? Scatter and run!” Medith’s shout cracked like thunder.

The sprite team heeded and scattered at once. Fifty split into ten small units, streaming into the forest in all directions. The human team had to break and chase.

As expected, with woodland at their backs and traits to match, once the human formation broke, threat fell like a stone in water. The sprite team slipped and wove with ease. After an hour of chase, the first to drop were the “humans.”

The sprite team still held fight in their limbs. Their clothes hung torn, springlight spilling from ripped hems, scratches painting them ragged—but their voices rose bright with excitement.

They hugged, tasting for the first time how hard-won a fruit victory is.

“Good. You learned fast, faster than I thought. Give yourselves some applause.” Medith’s smile was genuine, warm as dawn.

The sprite team didn’t clap. They ignored their own cuts and worked to restore the exhausted “human” team’s strength. Medith watched, feeling the day’s gain like grain gathered into a basket.

By then, the Lita Sisters were healed. They had watched Medith the whole time, her care threading through commands, her guidance like a lantern in fog. Lina walked up to Medith, bent, and bowed.

“Captain, please forgive what Rita and I did. We—”

Medith patted her head, then lifted their faces. “Little fools, why would I be angry? Pride’s fine. From the look of you, your standing among them isn’t small, right?

Then you two will be squad leaders. Each takes twenty.”

“Ah? But—” Lina meant to refuse, but saw trust shining in the sprites’ eyes, and swallowed her words.

“Milia, Iling—you each take thirty.” Medith brought the barely-lifting-armed Iling forward. Milia stepped in, and to their surprise, she was hardly hurt. Her color was rosy, breath even, like she’d spent almost no strength.

Medith set Milia, Iling, Rita, and Lina before the sprites. “From now on, they’re your leaders. Choose whom to follow. Remember—obey orders, strictly.”

“Yes!” The sprites, restored and aligned, shouted as one.

“I’m with Leader Lina!”

“Leader Milia! Leader Milia! I barely got scratched under her!”

“Really? Then me too!”

Medith watched their eager flutter and let out a wry smile. She stood atop a tree already swallowed by night, gazing at faint black smoke rising far away, her eyes hardening like steel under starlight.