Dante's haunting whisper still lingered in Aria's ear as he departed, leaving her in the herb-scented tent filled with unease. "No one can escape my control." That wasn't a promise, but a declaration of absolute power. Aria knew that tonight, the drill wouldn't just be a test of tactical skill, but a trial of her limits – both her will and her body.
That night, the East flank of the camp was shrouded in tension. The soldiers, under Aria's guidance, had meticulously prepared for her "feint" strategy. They repositioned simple but effective traps, camouflaged their positions, and waited for the "enemy" – Dante's other contingents. Aria stood on a high mound, observing the entire situation, her heart pounding but her mind strangely clear. It had been a long time since she'd fought in a simulated battle, but the thrill was just the same.
The signal sounded, and the drill began. Dante's enemy forces, with their overwhelming numbers and traditional tactics, quickly fell into the trap Aria had set. They charged into the "false weak point" she created, and immediately became entangled in unexpected traps, their formation breaking apart. Aria continuously issued commands, coordinating her soldiers to move flexibly, attacking from unforeseen positions. She had transformed a weaker contingent into a formidable force, completely surprising the opposing side.
From afar, Dante stood on a hill, his sharp eyes following every movement of the East flank. He had anticipated Aria would bring something different, but he hadn't expected such a daring and effective strategy. A faint smile appeared on his lips – the amused smile of a predator who had found worthy prey.
When the drill concluded, Aria's East flank, despite being outnumbered, had inflicted significant damage and forced the opposing side into disarray. The entire camp buzzed with excitement. Dante's soldiers looked at Aria with respect, even reverence. She had proven her worth spectacularly.
Aria returned to her tent, covered in dust and sweat. She sighed in relief, the tension dissolving. But before the joy of victory could fully settle, the tent flap was violently pushed open. Dante entered, without a word of warning. The tent was unlit, the faint moonlight casting his tall silhouette and gleaming eyes in the darkness.
He advanced without hesitation, his large hand quickly gripping the nape of her neck, pulling Aria into a deep kiss. His lips were strong, possessive, carrying the salty taste of sweat and the scent of gunpowder. Aria was stunned. She had anticipated this, but not that it would come so suddenly and violently. He gave her no chance to resist; his tongue ravaged, as fervent as a storm.
The kiss lingered, seemingly wanting to drain her breath. When Dante released her, Aria gasped for air, her lips swollen. He looked at her, his eyes blazing with desire.
"You passed my test," Dante whispered, his voice hoarse, filled with lust. "And the reward... is me."
Without waiting for Aria's reply, he lifted her into his arms, pushing her down onto the dry straw. His powerful body pressed against hers, his hot breath caressing her neck. Aria felt enveloped by absolute strength, by the potent masculine scent of a soldier. She knew that tonight, she was no longer an "advisor" or a "pawn." She was Dante's "reward," and the game had only truly begun with its most violent rules.