“What…” Milia’s mind seized like jammed gears, her voice a thin, panicked bird trapped in her throat.

“It’s a high chance we die.” Medith spoke like still water before a storm. “Here’s the plan. You hit the south line at full tilt. It’s thin as cracked ice. Breakout odds are nearly a hundred percent. But a breakout alone is useless—it won’t bend the war’s spine. And the south line brushes close to Lord Draela’s command.”

“It’s a desperate throw of the dice. Once you breach, there’s a wide square. Beneath it, a hidden basement. You should know that throat in the earth.”

“Erig will likely chase you. Lure him there. Fold back to the southwest corner like a receding tide. He’ll think you’ve given up. That’s when you play the trump.”

“Before you reach the south square, you can’t strike back. You must look like beaten curs, tails tucked and eyes down. Until then, many lives will go out like snuffed lanterns.” Medith’s tone was ice under ash.

Phiby blurted, hot as a spark. “Commander, you keep saying ‘you.’ Where are you going?”

Medith’s eyes held no ripples. “You draw the main force. I’ll lead the hidden hundred cavalry on a rear charge, and take Manto’s head. I’ve got a Silence Bomb. His Magic Breaker won’t even breathe. I’m a hundred percent certain. Then I’ll lift his corpse and roar.”

“Their morale will shatter like glass. With the kill move, we turn the tide and press.”

“I’ll vanish. Erig will keep a thorn in his heart and hold back from you for a moment. In that window, I’ll end this.”

“Medith! Are you kidding me?” Sais’s voice flared like flint. “Manto’s ringed by a thousand elite. You know their bite. They aren’t Mountain Bandits. One sword, you might cut down a hundred at most. How do you take his head? You’re walking into death.”

Medith gave a faint smile, cool as moonlight on steel. “Death? No. I don’t throw my life away. I’m sure I can kill him. That’s all.”

“And then?” Milia’s gaze was a blade that saw through skin. “Kill him and we get advantage here. But you? The rest will cut you down.” She heard the shape of Medith’s intent—sacrifice dressed as strategy.

Medith fell silent. The drum of footsteps and iron hooves drew near like hail on stone. Behind the war helm, her eyes swept the circle with a hungry ache, then hardened to flint. “I won’t die. That’s that.”

“And do you think I’m asking your opinion?”

“It’s an order. Don’t forget I’m the battlefield Commander. You obey.”

“Then I refuse.” Sais hurled her helmet to the ground, tears slick as rain on slate.

“I’m your Commander. Your superior. You don’t have the right to refuse.” Medith stood, knuckles white, rage coiled like a spring.

Sais laughed through fury, stripping off her cape and snapping it into Medith’s face. “Fine! I’ve wanted to quit this wreck of a troop. The Commander’s stiff as a board, always nagging.”

“And there’s a little loli bouncing around, selling cute. Lina and her sister act like silly kids, wrestling all day.”

“Milia eats like a pig, just shovels and chews.”

“Iling, a leaf in her mouth, sprawls high up to sun herself like a lazy lizard.”

“And you! Your stupid rules—no changing skirts, no changing clothes. It suffocates me.”

“I quit… I… You can’t order me… you can’t…” Sais folded into Medith, sobbing like spring petals in rain. Her words hit the other girls’ hearts like stones. Tears followed, soft and raw.

“Let go.” Medith clamped Sais’s hands, then shoved her down before the others. Sais stared, stunned. The helm hid whatever lived in Medith’s eyes.

“You’re a child. A child who can’t tell black from white. Do those words change anything? Can they turn these demons back? Can they keep Lord Draela alive?”

“Can they save over two hundred thousand souls in Sia City?”

“No. They can’t.” Her voice rapped like a war drum. “Then what use are they? They only shake the army’s heart. They only crack our faith.”

Her speech pulled scattered courage back like a net drawing in fish. Fingers found hilts again. Breath steadied.

“On the field, every heartbeat is a coin. We have to press down our feelings like a lid on boiling water. Or there’s only ruin.”

“I won’t wrangle with you. I’m ordering you. Hear me?”

“Order.” Medith stepped into Sais’s space. Anger and a tremor braided her words, and every soul shivered like reeds in a cold wind.

Since knowing Medith, it was the first time they’d seen the fire unmasked.

“I don’t. What then?” Sais’s eyes were red, tears running like broken strings.

Medith drew the long killing sword. The enemy was already a dark wave, only a few hundred meters out. “Then I’ll kill you right now, for defying your superior and deserting under banners.”

“Commander!”

“Don’t! Commander!” The girls cried out, dread clutching like iron bands. With Medith, it wasn’t empty threat. They wanted to move, but reason nailed them in place.

“Fine.” Sais closed her eyes like a folded fan. “If I die by your hand, I have no regrets.”

Medith’s slender hand shook around the hilt, the blade hovering like a falcon that wouldn’t dive. At last, the sword slid down, dim as dusk. “I promise you—I’ll come back alive. When Medith speaks, it happens. Now, count this as me begging. Lead the troops. Without you, they can’t stop even one lance from Erig.”

“Sais… no time…”

A sob edged her voice. She pulled off her helm, and the coiled hair fell like a dark waterfall. Her face, perfect as carved jade, was streaked with tears. For the first time, she cried before them.

Sais’s eyes widened. The girls, and the silent watching captains, all froze like statues. A knife turned inside their chests.

Only now did they grasp how much pain Medith lived in. The field forced her to bury who she was, to wear a devil’s face. Only like that could she advance, only like that could she guard what she loved.

Her harshness, her shouting, even her hair-trigger fury—that was hate for their stagnation. The iron-blood mask wasn’t for comrades. It was for enemies. Her past weighed like a mountain; it crushed her breath. In this war, the one most afraid was Medith.

She had tasted such slaughter firsthand. Yet for the girls, and for unknown allies, she strangled her person, her fear, even her own shadow.

“Medith…” Sais cried like blossoms beaten by rain. She should have understood Medith best. Why didn’t she? She didn’t know. She’d only felt injustice when she heard Medith’s ‘willful suicide.’ Why her?

“Fine then, Medith. I’ll go. I’ll swing behind. I’m stronger. My odds are higher. You—”

Medith sealed the words with her cherry lips. Sais froze, thoughts blown out like candles. A warm, wet tongue slipped past her parted mouth, and the kiss smoothed her storm, eased her ache.

The same wet kiss—but it felt nothing like the first time. She only wanted to hold Medith until time emptied.

Sais’s slender arms wrapped Medith’s armored waist, and she answered that fierce love with all she had. After a long breath, their mouths parted. Foreheads touched. A silver string stretched between them, dripping onto their armor like moonlit rain.

“Ha… ha… Medith…” Sais kept licking her lips, savoring the sweet aftertaste of battle paused.

“Believe me. I won’t die. That’s the guarantee.” Medith brushed a light kiss over Sais’s scarlet mouth.

“Mm…” Sais answered in a mosquito-small voice, cheeks flushed like dawn. She looked at Medith with tender eyes. “Promise.”

“Promise.” Medith set the helm back on, the steel face turning toward war.