The fires still crackled in the distance, soft and tired, like a song that refused to end. I didn't bother looking back anymore. There was no need. The burning outpost was behind us, both literally and symbolically. It wasn't about revenge. It was about clarity. Pain sharpens the mind. Betrayal purifies it.
Now, I had both.
I studied the dirt map I had etched into the earth beneath my feet. The outline of the kingdom's southern territory was crude, but it was enough. The river systems, the wheat roads, the merchant trails, they were arteries. All I had to do was choke them slowly, and the heart would starve.
"Dazai, mark the route for the third detachment." I scratched a line northeast toward the Fernshade Vale. "We'll have them move at dusk. Light armor, no fires, no signal flags."
He nodded quickly, already noting it on the parchment. "And the message to the spies in Solmere?"
"Release it before nightfall." I leaned back on my heels. "They're to spread word that the demon army is retreating into the Deep Marshes."
Veyren chuckled. "You're really feeding them lies on every front."
"That's the point." I stood, brushing dirt from my gloves. "Let them believe I'm just playing tricks. While they chase ghosts in the fog, we'll be waiting with blades in the grain fields."
He gave me a sidelong glance. "You've changed, Rin."
I didn't answer right away. I looked toward the hills beyond, where the sky was turning silver-blue with morning light. I could still remember the first war, the banners, the oaths, the speeches about hope.
I also remembered choking on the smoke of the battlefield while my own comrades walked away.
"I had to", I said quietly. "The girl who trusted in loyalty died that day in the valley. What's left is what the world made."
Veyren didn't argue. He just saluted, then turned to relay orders.
The soldiers under my command weren't like the humans I once served. They didn't demand speeches or applause. They wanted direction. Precision. Victory. That suited me fine.
I walked through the ranks as they packed up. My black coat swept dust behind me as I moved, like a shadow gliding across the earth. Every now and then, I stopped.
A young demon girl with a scar down her chin fumbled with her blade's strap.
"Loosen the buckle", I told her gently, showing her how to fix it. "You'll cut your own thigh before the enemy gets close."
She blinked up at me, surprised. "Yes, Commander."
A few steps further, two scouts argued over route paths.
"If you disagree", I said, interrupting softly, "walk both paths before dawn. Compare risks. Return with results. I value thought, not pride."
They both nodded in silence, ashamed but motivated.
These were not just soldiers. They were mine. My force. My mirror.
And I would shape them into something the kingdoms had never faced.
By midday, we had moved deeper into the canyon forest, using natural cover to mask our presence. I sat with Dazai and my inner circle of commanders over a cracked stone table, map spread wide between us.
"We hit the grain silos next", I said, tapping the town of Arnisport. "Minimal defenses, but maximum value. If they lose those silos, the capital will begin rationing."
"And then panic", one of the lieutenants added.
I nodded. "Exactly. Panic leads to mistakes. Mistakes give us space."
"And after Arnisport?" asked Dazai.
"We turn north to Viremont's trade routes. Not to take the city, just to spook the caravans. If merchants hesitate, nobles hesitate. And when the nobles get nervous..."
"They start blaming the generals", Veyren said with a grin.
"And they begin to fight each other." I leaned in. "That's when we strike."
It was not a plan of brute force. It was war by erosion. Psychological siege.
The kind of war only a villain would dare to wage.
I should have felt something, remorse, doubt, fear. But instead, I only felt a quiet satisfaction. The pieces were falling into place. I wasn't destroying the kingdom from the outside.
I was unraveling it from within.
Just as they had unraveled me.
By nightfall, we reached the Blackroot Glade, where the shadows were thicker and the air colder. I called a halt. Campfires were forbidden. We set up in silence, only the rustle of branches and shifting metal echoing through the dark.
In my tent, I lit a single lantern and stared at the map again. My finger traced the path to the capital, not yet marked. Not yet. But soon.
"Lady Ayaka", Dazai said from behind me, "should we draft the message to... him?"
I looked up. He meant Kael. The undead warlord who served us in the west front. Still loyal. Still burning with memory.
"Yes", I said slowly. "Tell him the flame is spreading. He'll know what it means."
Dazai bowed and left.
I stared at the flickering lantern light. My reflection shimmered in its glass, sharp eyes, pale face, the faint curve of a smirk that hadn't been there months ago.
So this is what I've become.
No... this is what I always was.
The world just took too long to see it.