“I have a plan.” Medith’s smile broke like dawn through mist.

Blank looks. Medith’s voice sharpened like a drawn blade. “The Empty City ruse, and a strike-at-the-heart gambit.”

“?” Confusion rippled like wind over wheat. Delaia pinched his chin, eyes glinting like flint. “Use this place? Bait someone, then spring a raid?”

Medith arched a willow brow; his instinct rang true like a bell in fog. But her map ran deeper, like roots under stone.

“Come. All of you.” She shut the door to the refuge, brushed dust like ash from a hearth, and sat cross-legged.

They dropped around her at once, eager as sparrows to seed.

Medith picked up a shard of stone and sketched, lines flowing like streams. “Here’s us, ahead of us, a refuge. No traps, no hidden passage. East of it is the strange gate. When that gate and the outer mechanisms are sealed, we get a perfect hideaway.

“No one imagines the wall itself hides people, like a hollow tree hiding bees.

“South of the refuge, there’s this room—where we sit. Call it the Outer Door. It connects to the outer city wall. We can shoot and watch through the disguised wall. From the pushback I felt, this face has real stopping power, like a shield buried in stone.

“West is a room to the inner wall. Forget it; inside, we’re safe for now.

“So, we strike from here, like lightning from a clear sky.

“Here’s the flow. We prep our finest arrows and the steadiest archers. Not too many. Thirty inside the door. Fifty on standby in the refuge.

“We lie in the Outer Door. Lord Delaia and Kasda take a few dozen up to Lachesis’s summit, and fake a parley with the rebel chief. They’re here for my lord; we’ll use that pull like a tide.

“They’re rebels. My lord, lean on past sins and press hard, like salt in a wound. Make them see red. They may lunge for you in a blink.

“In that blink, raise your heavy shield and hold, like a rock against surf. Arrows die fast at the edge of the wall; the damage won’t punch through. You only need a heartbeat.

“In that heartbeat, we crack open the wall’s little window and loose.

“Ten shooters a wave, three waves. We’ve five Sprites here, so we’ll run six rotations. Sprites hold; humans move. Human shafts and Sprite shafts interleave like rain and hail. Different weights, same storm. They’ll misread the mix as all high lethality.

“Then we pull the whole wall open. More archers fill in. Sprites go all out. One volley, and they’ll lose hundreds, like leaves torn in a gale. Their morale will collapse in a breath, especially the Mountain Bandits.

“Humans focus the Bandits; Sprites hammer the rebels. Don’t mix it up. Sprite arrows cut Impado armor like reeds; yours don’t.

“Used right, we hit them like a mallet to the crown. The rebels’ courage plunges to ice, seeing spears in every reed. Ours surges like fire. As they wane and we wax, the day the city opens will be the day hope returns.”

On the floor, her plan unfurled clean as a river map. Every link caught to the next like gears, swift to execute, clear as winter air. The marvel was, she’d spun it in a blink.

They stood gaping like carp at the surface, minds flooding. The load of detail battered them like rain.

After a long beat, Delaia came back first. “Heavens. You little monster…”

“Thank you.” Medith heard no malice, only awe, and took it like a warm cup in cold hands.

“Yes! This will work! If luck smiles, the Bandits break and run!” Kasda’s cheeks flushed like wine. “I’m in. My archery’s not yours, but I can drop Bandits all day!”

The gloom in the room thinned like fog lifting. Thinking it through, it felt heaven-woven. The enemy aimed for Delaia. His face alone would set them on full alert. Trap or not, they’d have to come taste him.

That drags them into range. At first they’ll guard like hedgehogs. Then Delaia’s words stab tender spots. While all eyes fix on him, Medith’s team crossfires. As she said, if it clicks, mixed arrows bite unevenly, but as bodies thin fast, the kill ratio climbs like a hawk.

Their morale snaps like brittle ice, and even on the day the city opens they’ll still flinch at shadows.

“In that case, prepare now. We move tomorrow at 23:00. My lord, wear fatigue, defeat, despair—like rain-soaked robes. It ups our odds.” Medith’s smile flashed like a knife’s back.

Delaia bared his teeth for the first time since they met, a grin like sunlight through cloud.

…

Medith stood on the secret room’s lip, twenty meters of hush beneath like a dry well. She glanced around and found a lever. Her slender hand pulled. The twin walls slid together like jaws. Satisfaction warmed her face like a hearth.

“Commander! There’s another entrance!” Iling pointed to the east wall, finger bright as a sparrow’s beak.

They stepped up. Same build as the lower chamber. They gripped the holds and flew up like swallows, reached a narrow corridor, a door at its end. Medith pressed; it wasn’t locked.

“This is…” She peered out. The west face of the city wall opened like a cliffside. They stood on one of four protruding platforms. She’d always thought them mere ornament, like carved eaves.

Delaia leaned out. The space was broad, enough for fifty, with room to move like wolves in brush. If they needed to fall back, they could yank the hatch under this skylight and vanish, and no ladder would ever reach them.

“Now, everything’s in place.” The same thought moved through them like a shared pulse.

They didn’t know this: those four protrusions were, in truth, just ornaments. No hidden meaning, only a perch to climb and drink in the view—one last fondness for home and the mortal world, like a painter’s final brushstroke.

…

“Coo, coo, coo…” A green owl burst onto Medith’s shoulder like a leaf on wind.

“Hm? Emerald Hawk?” Medith blinked. The Queen’s courier should have flown back to Xurenxus City already.

“Coo… coo-coo…” The owl hopped on her shoulder, left then right, lively as a spring brook.

“Hah! So the royal courier’s a love-messenger now.” Sais’ tone curled like smoke.

The girls coughed, cheeks warm, and slipped away like shadows.

Medith kept silent. “Coo…” The owl spat a bead wrapped in crystal, a round gem cradling pure light. Its whiteness was flawless, purer than Regido’s pillar, like snow under moon.

“Coo…” Medith met the owl’s eyes. A line of text bloomed again, like ink on water.

“[Silence Bomb] cannot be analyzed. I’m sending it with you to avoid thieves on the road. To use, shatter the outer crystal. Do not touch it bare-handed. Are you well? Return at once.

Lahiss.”

Medith’s heart jolted like a drum. The Queen had air-dropped the greatest spoil of the last battle straight to her hands. That gift was no small windfall, like jade falling into one’s lap.