[Medith]

“Fall back! Fall back! Fall back!” The soldiers snapped from panic to order, retreat flowing like a pulled tide.

Moments later, a flood of Sage Soldiers surged from the southern line, wrapping the high dais around Medith like a tightening ring. Not a flicker of panic showed on their faces.

A cold dread pooled under her ribs. “A trap...”

She hurled the headless corpse off the platform, then stepped on it as she dropped. Thud— Her armor slammed the ground, stone webbed and cracked. Nobody winced.

They only stared with that strange, hungry look. Medith moved to break out, and the world reeled. Her stance wavered. She exhaled ragged heat, dropped to her left knee, right hand braced on her sword. Sweat slicked her skin. Strength drained to the dregs. No fight left.

Her vision fogged. She shut her left eye, breath rough and fast. Her war-helm was gone, knocked off. Her plates hung in ruin. She pushed the broken armor aside, her true body and face laid bare to dust and daylight.

“Ha... ha...” Her breath came soft and quick, a tremor on the air. It made fingers itch, but reason bit hard. Touch Medith, and you’d end as scattered limbs on this blood-slick ground.

“Damn it. A trap.” The words left her lips without force.

From the ranks, a man in black-gold armor strode out. Broad and tall, his gait hit like storm thunder. Most striking was the whip-thick plume of dead-black pheasant feathers trailing behind him.

“Man...to...?” Medith forced the name through clenched teeth.

Manto paced, eyes raking her. “So this is all Medith Waheit amounts to.”

A jolt of déjà vu stabbed her temple. She remembered the maddening whispers and mirages the moment she stepped into the Royal Capital.

“So that... trap... was this, then... ngh...” She clutched her chest as blood sprayed. Her breath broke and scattered. A little strength crawled back.

She pushed up on her blade, knuckles white, eyes locked on him. “All of this... ha... was your plan?”

Manto folded his arms. “Exactly. I’m a man who hates dying. So I found a scapegoat. With Commander Medith this fierce, I couldn’t bet on walking away.”

Medith said nothing. War isn’t shame or honor. War is win and lose.

Manto plucked a spear from a soldier’s hands. Lightning-quick, he drew steel and split her chest-piece.

“Ah—!” Instinct made her cover herself. Her body crumpled, helpless, to the ground.

No trace of the Ironblood War Deity remained. She looked breakable, the kind of fragile that makes beasts forget fear.

Sage Soldiers stared at the Sprite girl. She’d always been striking. Her green hair, gone white, now held mature allure. The wide swath of snow-pale skin at her chest gnawed at their reason like frostbite.

“Oh, my bad. My hand slipped. Ah— look at that, look at that. How is your skin this white?” Manto took a step.

Medith jerked her sword, carved a hard line in stone. “Cross this line, and we burn together.”

Manto chuckled, backing two steps. A cat savoring the slow mouse.

...

[Sais]

The central plaza caved into a vast pit, a rust grave of old machines and flaking iron. Bodies of Sage Soldiers lay below. Armor burst to shards. Blood leaked from eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Some were twisted like torn dolls, limbs set in uncanny angles.

It looked like every bone had turned to grit.

Kasda’s final gambit: one Magic Breaker explosion that pulled over a thousand Sage Soldiers into its shock and killed them. Erig and Sinis were forced to use Magic Breaker just to block it. Without that, they’d have died.

This time, their counter didn’t trigger a Magic Breaker explosion. Why, no one knew.

Three thousand troops. Over half died in a heartbeat. The five hundred closest heavy and light cavalry were erased. Hundreds of warhorses lay in the plaza, armor blown open, bodies slack and steaming.

“Kasda... you bastard... you’ve been hiding right here?!” Erig looked badly hurt. His Lawbreaker Form flickered incomplete. He had no helm. No black aura coiled his plates.

Sinis was the same. The Magic Breaker Circle had blasted his helmet off.

Sinis’s true face showed: a handsome noble’s cut, pale skin, a crown of spiky golden hair, cool light-blue eyes. He stared at Kasda, breath ragged.

Erig revealed his face at last. About forty. A hard, weathered face with weight. A scar slashed diagonally across his brow. Tousled golden hair. Unshaven stubble. He looked spent, but his gaze was knife-bright.

Kasda wasn’t much better. That last move had wrung him out. “Oh? I thought under those helmets you were beasts. Turns out you wear human faces,” he needled.

“Hmph.” Erig reset his breath in a blink.

“Medith—!” Sais burned with panic. They were this brazen, and Medith had gone silent. Likely real. If that was true...

“Hold on! I’m going to her now!” Sais vaulted a rooftop, ready to leave. Erig erupted upward, pivoted, and speared at her. Sais blocked on reflex and crashed back to stone.

“Get out of my way! I don’t have time to play!” Sais whipped two slashes behind her, then climbed again.

Erig slid aside, launched, and knocked her down a second time.

“Ahhhhh—!” Sais almost lost herself. She poured magic like a broken dam. Her fury turned to roaring cleave after cleave. She rushed. She missed. None hit. Her enemy stood untouched while her precious magic bled away.

“Ha... ha...” A handful of slashes later, more than half her magic was gone. In a blink, the field became a cripple’s brawl.

“Stay where you are and listen. Sergeant Major Manto will make Medith’s screams echo across Sia City. Or her moans, maybe...” Erig’s smile was cold. He flicked his hand. Dozens of hidden Magic Breakers shed their veils, dropping from the sky into the fray.

“Bastards—!” The women couldn’t hold back. The battle exploded into chaos.

...

Manto watched Medith, who was clutching her last shred of dignity with both hands. Her face burned scarlet. Her eyes blazed hate.

“Easy, brothers. One last thing from me. After that, do as you please.” His voice pressed the crowd’s pulse down.

Manto shook his head, playing at trouble. “Who would’ve thought? The Ironblood War Deity I feared for two days turns out this breathtaking. I wonder—what will your voice sound like when you start to cry?”

“You won’t have me. I’ll end it first.” Strange calm settled over Medith now that the cliff was under her heels.

“Tough. It’s fine. After that, there’s a moment of warmth left. That’s enough.” Manto’s voice stayed unhurried.

He crouched just beyond the life-and-death line, looking at the fragile Medith. “Medith... who are you, really? I don’t mean your sprite kind or your name—those nursery questions. Where did you come from, and what are you here for?”