"Hey, hey—who drives a blade clean through in a ‘friendly’ duel, cold as midnight?"

"The iron-blood general’s name isn’t for show. That steel won’t rest till it drinks red."

"She spared the vitals. That’s mercy. If it were me, I’d be snuffed in one move."

The mercenaries praised while relief flickered like lanterns behind their eyes. Medith’s swordwork stunned them—sharp as frost, ruthless as winter. If she’s this hard on her own, how savage to an enemy?

"Here. Yours." Medith smiled and tossed the greatsword back to a young man. He fumbled it into the scabbard, pale as paper, scared she’d speak to him again.

Medith lifted her chin like a swan and walked straight to Fangge. "Mmm—ugh..." Fangge had been spared the fatal points, yet the wound bit deep, pain like hot sand under skin. Sais and the others healed while shouting for the medic to join in. Their looks at Medith held hate and grievance, clouds heavy with blame for a hard hand.

"Remember this. Against a stronger foe, don’t turtle, don’t wait to read them. You keep pressing. Press and press.

Fight full tilt. Leave no room. Push the weight onto them, not yourself. If they slip once, or panic mid-flow, the win swings to you.

You’re clever. You know what I mean." Medith crouched and touched Fangge’s wound with a gentleness like soft rain. Fangge’s bloodless face trembled; pain-pinched eyes cleared like a mountain spring. Insight poured in like a ladle of clarity.

"Got it..." Fangge breathed, then sank into easy sleep.

Night fell deep, the world a still lake. Bored mercenaries on watch drifted to talk of that exhilarating duel. Jade’s sword was strange and sly, like a fox through reeds, and he read enemy moves in a blink.

If the opponent hadn’t been Medith, a same-tier Magic Breaker would’ve been crushed. Her blade and footwork already broke past the level line. Medith herself won them over, like fire lighting a cold hall.

Since old days, strength draws respect, a tide toward high cliffs—more so a Wind Sprite sister, brave and sharp, beauty like moonlight.

"My god! You didn’t see Medith fight. She punches while reading, changing forms to fit the enemy’s breed and nature."

"And she took Jade’s Magic Breaker head-on! That’s devilry! If we hadn’t all seen it, I’d think I was hallucinating."

"Aw, how did I miss a showdown like that!"

They talked on and on, sparks flying as the night thinned. In the spacious room set by the keep-lord, Medith sat on the sill and watched star and moon drift like silver boats. Her thoughts were a quiet storm.

Nameless stood on the wide training ground. He recalled Medith and Fangge’s duel. His spear grip tightened like a knot. He trained alone, shadow and breath moving like wind over grass.

Thud-thud-thud… thump! The Hexclaw Legion’s great host marched straight through the bustling market, a river of iron under a thousand eyes. Faces turned; whispers rose like startled birds.

When they saw the white dragon banner snapping in the wind, shock spread like frost. A man in star-forged robes rode at the fore. Shoulder-length gold hair framed a slightly stout figure. An eight-shaped mustache sat above a steady mouth. Twin golden eyes flickered; his squint held a sheen of contempt, like a cat on a high wall.

"Duke Harrison, we’ve still a ways to Dawnlight. Shall we rest here a while?" the Hexclaw Commander said, voice steady as a drum.

This mission could not fail. To ensure the plan, they sent a noble duke to assist. Harrison had fought big and small battles, experience like scars under armor. He was no Medith, but for mercenaries he was more than enough. With Hexclaw gear and drill, victory was nine parts certain—and more besides.

"Mm. Do it," Harrison smiled, warm as a knife’s back. "If nothing goes wrong, that one should be trying to reach His Majesty now.

I hope they’ll prove useful."

"As a last road, yes..." the Commander said with meaning. His burly frame in bright white armor, waist-long pheasant plumes flaring like fire, made fear rise like smoke.

At his word, the host halted. Tens of thousands of Hexclaw soldiers poured into the city, swift and orderly, a tide advancing without a break.