Medith faced them, her voice steady as winter wind. Guard Captains, there’s a high chance you’ll die under mid-way attacks. Got anything to say? Say it now, I’ll carry it to them.

The captains shook their heads, a ripple through a dark sea. Oliver held silence, then spoke with iron resolve. Then please bring two words to my family.

Tell my wife, Edis, I love her. When she mourns me, tell her not to cry, not to drown in shadow. Just talk to me about Sophie, like sunlight in a cold room.

Tell my daughter, Sophie, that her father went out on a mission. Far, far beyond the world’s horizon.

When she’s older, tell her her father died defending our country. Tell her it was an honorable death, a bright blade, not a coward’s dusk. Two tiger-tears cut down his face, twin rivers under a steel sky.

…

Silence fell like ash. Medith patted his shoulder, warmth under stormclouds. Easy. You’ll tell them yourself.

Yeah… I will… Oliver fixed his gaze on the army looming close, a cliff of shields. He set his helm, gripped his greatsword, and let war-fire rise.

…

Erig led the charge, white-armor heavy cavalry like a breaking comet. Two hundred riders came with a force to shatter armies, and the host thundered behind.

Move! Break out south— Medith’s urgent call carried like a horn through smoke. Erig curled his lip, a hawk’s sneer. Hahaha! The famed war-god Medith gets beaten this low. What a joke—

Hahaha— The army howled, letting long-held bile boil off like steam. Morale surged, a spring flood. Their steps quickened, drums in a chest.

Medith’s forces folded tight, a fist in the dark. Medith and Sais burst forward, riding a white raven-blood stallion. Two pale shadows, one mount holding the gate. In under three minutes, with the army’s blade at their back, they slaughtered hundreds of elite guards on the south line. They lost barely twenty souls, scattered like leaves.

The Mountain Bandits came trailing like carrion crows, then fled in panic, fear of Medith snapping chains again. Weapons clattered and were abandoned, a rain of iron.

Medith’s group didn’t spare a glance. They sprinted hard, a white streak in night ink. Medith burned mana like oil on a fire; in a blink, she vanished past the south corner.

Ha! Hahahahaha! Medith Waheit! Tail tucked, you’re running?! Don’t love your precious subordinates anymore? Manto watched from the rear, clear-eyed in torchglow. A thousand elite guards ringed him tight, a wall of spears. Three hundred archers shadowed them, the rest first-rate blades. Under that seal, he saw no danger anywhere.

Manto raised his arm, a black banner cutting the sky. Since that’s so, capture her subordinates! Let’s give them proper “hospitality!”

Aaoh— A roar surged again, a red tide. Erig’s eyes danced. At this stage, even if the storm bends, he felt ready.

Medith! You’re the greatest foe of my life, and I’ll give you the highest honor! If you aim to flee, don’t blame me for what follows.

All forces, hear me! Full charge! Don’t let Medith slip! Take her alive! I’ll tear her apart, pin her to the ground, and savor the sight of her begging! Erig’s face twisted, a wolf’s mask stripped bare.

Heavy cavalry kicked harder, speed rising beyond light horse, hooves drumming like thunder. In a breath, they ran down Sia City’s soldiers.

Hold them— Bel didn’t hesitate; he led his squad to die blocking that iron wave.

A heartbeat of lag rippled the line. Sais’s flaming pheasant plume swayed under night stars. Full speed! Don’t you dare look back!

They obeyed, confusion swallowed by urgency. Sais and Milia burned mana, speed multiplying like wildfire. Even the cavalry started to lag, shadows dragged by the wind.

Sinis didn’t spare Bel a glance; rear blades could handle the grind. You Elvenfolk are truly uncanny. But where can you run to under a moon like this?

Sinis lowered his body, streamlined over his saddle, an arrow on a bow. Pushing hard, he closed the gap for a second time, breath like frost.

Sais arrived alongside, lances lifted like crooked lightning. They stabbed to rip the formation, cloth and flesh a storm of shards.

Sais spun, a hawk’s arc in night. She slid from the saddle, both hands drew, and loosed Dark Blade. She dove, borrowing height, steel met Erig’s lance in a sky-slam. Erig lost the clash, flung several meters, armor ringing.

He dragged his lance to gouge earth, braking hard. A deep trench tore behind him, a black scar in clay.

Commander Erig! Sinis flinched for a blink. Sais danced through air, long legs flashing. A twin-heel hammered his chest, kicking him off his horse. The warhorse felt it like a spark and wheeled, bolting back toward its master.

Sais stole that breath. She tapped air, sprung, landed on her mount, and flowed onward, a white ribbon.

Commander! Commander! Both cavalry lines stuttered, voices tossing like gravel. They asked after the Commanders, concern like grit.

Don’t stop! Keep the chase! Erig and Sinis vaulted back into saddles, and speed howled again.

Damn woman! How’s she that strong? Erig shook a shocked right hand, pain buzzing like hornets. He’d taken her aerial cleave head-on; the lance almost flew from his grip. Her strength far exceeded his writ.

Don’t panic, Commander. She shoved hard. She chased us fast, burned plenty of muscle. I don’t know how their mana works, but it won’t be endless.

She fought last night too. Now her strength’s maybe half. The other Sprites are even less to fear. Sinis spoke coolly, a river under ice.

Erig nodded, grim chin. I think so too. What do you think they’re trying?

It won’t help. Sinis’s reply was a flat blade.

Sais and the women didn’t notice. The army behind them had thinned, silent as fog…

…

Medith ran the rooftops, a white ghost over black tiles. In three bounds and five breaths, she reached a spot a thousand meters east of Manto.

Commander! A group rose from deep shadow, like stones rolling from a well. Few would expect almost a hundred souls hidden in dim horse sheds.

We begin. You have one target. Tear open a gap with everything you’ve got. Then I’ll resolve it. The lives of Sia City rest in your hands. Do not fail. Medith’s words were a short blade, clean.

We swear to follow you unto death! Eyes hardened, their resolve shone like iron in frost.

Medith nodded, quick hands readying gear, a storm lacing its boots.

…

Damn! They caught up. Noel squad, hold here! If anyone slips past you, kill yourselves on the spot! Noel raised his greatsword, a grim pillar. He formed the last line to the southern square, a dam against the flood.

No! Noel! Palmer and Oliver cried out, hearts cleaving like bark. Yet they set their jaws, turned hard, and didn’t look back.

Noel’s squad broke in moments, scattered by the cavalry like straw in a gale. The riders didn’t even glance at Noel, just thundered on.

Bastards! Noel bit down, anger iron in his teeth. He watched the three-thousand surge coming like a tidal wall—and smiled, a stubborn sun behind storm.