(General Kael's POV)
The wind carried the scent of ash.
I stood at the edge of the scorched field, helm tucked under my arm, watching the last embers of the enemy outpost flicker into black. The bodies had long since cooled. My men moved among them like shadows, efficient, silent, disciplined. Just as I trained them.
"Report", I said without turning.
Sergeant Varn stepped beside me. "Fort Vyron's defenses collapsed faster than expected. No reinforcements arrived. We lost only four."
"Name them".
"Garron, Bris, Tenel... and Coriel. The young one."
I nodded, jaw clenched. Coriel had only just seen his first skirmish three weeks ago. Barely seventeen. He'd had steady hands and no arrogance, rare traits in boys that young.
"Give them proper rites", I said. "Burn the bodies with honor. Let the demons howl about how human ghosts still march with us."
Varn grinned, sharp and tired. "Yes, sir."
He left me then. I remained, eyes on the fading firelight, and for a long moment, I let myself remember.
The night I died, I was choking on my own blood.
It had pooled in my mouth, warm and sharp, flooding my lungs as I staggered through the mud. Betrayed. Slashed down not by the enemy, but by those I had once protected. A blade between my ribs. A name spat like a curse. "Monster", they called me. "War criminal."
No trial. No truth. Just the cold kiss of steel and the silence of the battlefield as I fell to my knees.
When I woke again, Lady Sahria was standing over me, covered like mist, eyes like frozen stars.
"You hate them", she whispered.
I couldn't speak. My mouth was still full of blood, even in death.
"That will keep you loyal."
And so I rose, undead and unflinching.
Now, under the Demon King's banner, I command legions once more. But not for vengeance. No. Vengeance is a fire that eats itself. I fight for one reason only.
Her.
Ayaka Rin.
Once, she walked among the human armies as their strategist. A girl born in mud, rising to lead men bred in marble halls. She knew no mercy, only calculation, purpose, and the weight of thousands of lives behind every decision.
I had respected her. Feared her brilliance. She reminded me of who I might have been, had the war not warped me into a blade.
She's changed now. I see it in her eyes, those sharp, unreadable eyes. There is a fracture there. And from that crack, something darker grows. Not madness. Not cruelty. Something else.
Resolve.
"You really believe she'll turn this tide?" Lieutenant Merek asked as he approached me, breaking my reverie.
I gave a slow nod. "She already has. The humans stumble. They question their generals. They hunt their own traitors in the dark now."
Merek glanced toward the distant mountains. "The White Court is still strong. If they unite---"
"They won't. She's already seen to that."
"And if she's wrong?"
I looked at him then, letting the cold truth fill my voice. "If she's wrong, Merek, we're all already dead."
Merek had no answer for that. Just a stiff nod before he left to continue preparations for our march.
I walked slowly through the camp, letting my boots sink into the bloodied soil. The soldiers saluted as I passed, not with pomp, but with clenched fists to their hearts. Not out of fear, but belief.
They trusted me. Not because I was alive, but because I remembered what it was like to bleed. To lose. To be betrayed.
They saw in me what they now saw in Ayaka Rin, a leader carved from pain.
Near the eastern ridge, I found one of the younger soldiers, Ren, a scout with a limp, muttering curses as he tried to repair a damaged crossbow.
"Need a hand?" I asked.
Ren jumped, scrambling to stand. "General... I didn't mean to---"
"At ease, soldier. Sit. Let me see that."
I knelt beside him, took the weapon, and studied the cracked mechanism. "You kept this from before the battle?"
Ren nodded sheepishly. "It's my sister's. She carved the handle before I left."
I traced the worn edge of the grip. There were initials burned into the wood.
"She's waiting for you?"
"I hope so", he said, eyes suddenly very far away.
I adjusted the tension cable, tightened a bolt with my gauntlet, and handed it back. "Then don't die with regrets, Ren. Every time you fire this, make it count."
His expression steadied. "Yes, General."
I left him, heart heavier than before.
I once had a sister too.
Her name was Aelra. She died in the first siege of Mirhallow, burned alive when the nobles refused to open the gates for us. I was only seventeen.
That's when I learned what betrayal looked like.
Ayaka knows it too. That's what binds us. We are not loyal because we are commanded to be. We are loyal because we have already lost everything else.
A horn sounded in the distance, three short blasts. A signal. Scouting party returning.
I straightened, slipping my helm back on. The firelight reflected across its obsidian surface.
Tomorrow, we move again. Another outpost. Another crown to topple.
And when the dust settles, and the humans look out across the battlefield...
They will see the faces of those they thought they'd killed.
They will see me.
And they will see her.
Ayaka Rin.
Their villainess.
Their reckoning.