Ayaka Rin
The truce was a blade balanced on its edge.Too sharp to hold. Too valuable to drop.
I stirred the bitter-root tea again, pretending to enjoy its earthy taste. Around the council table, my advisors squabbled in hushed tones, their voices sharp as rusted knives.
"They won't last a week", hissed Commander Nyzhar. "The Holy Alliance talks peace, but they're already resupplying border camps."
"Their general parades virtue like a holy banner", said Advisor Veska, her dagger catching the tent's dim lanternlight. "We should slip a knife through his throat when he next walks alone."
I let them bicker. That's what snakes did when they smelled warmth, slither close and hiss.
Let them hiss.Let them coil.That's how you learned where to step.
"Enough", I said finally, voice soft but steady. "The truce stands, for now. Not because we trust them, but because it suits us."
They fell quiet, wary eyes flicking between one another.
"My lady", Veska purred, "surely you don't believe in this peace?"
I smiled.
"No. But I believe in bait."
And what better bait than a truce to lull enemies and traitors alike?
General Caelum Thorne
They say silence is peace. But I've fought too long to mistake the quiet.
This silence?It was the silence of swords being sharpened out of sight.
We gathered in the command tent beneath the silver wolf banner, its crescent maw turned skyward as if howling for the gods. The ink on the truce hadn't dried before voices were raised.
"This is a demon's joke", Seraphina scoffed, her gauntlet thudding on the table. "They'll be flaying villagers by sunrise."
"Rin is clever", muttered Lysandre. "She'll wait. She knows we'll break it first."
I exhaled slowly, feeling every weight of my armor, of command. "She's not wrong".
Heads turned toward me.
"This isn't a peace. It's a game of masks. And we must play better."
A scout burst in, dust-covered, bloodstained.
"Village near the border", he panted. "Smoke… ruins… no survivors. They say demons."
The tent went silent.
Then Seraphina's blade scraped from its sheath. "So much for truce".
But I held up my hand.
"No movement yet. No confirmation. We investigate first."
"And if it's her?" she growled.
I didn't answer.Because if it was her…
…I'd still have to choose between truth and war.
Ayaka Rin
They thought they'd caught me in their gaze. But it was me who lit the candle.
The Holy Alliance was always too quick to cry foul. One village razed near a volatile border, and suddenly, they believed the truce broken.
Good.
A perfect test.
I stood near the observation ridge, looking down at the smoldering village we had not touched. My scouts had reported it, banners torn, footprints scattered, an attack too clean, too staged.
I knew the signs.This wasn't a demon strike.
This was a frame-up.
And it would make them bleed from their own wound.
When Kaleid joined me, bow across his back, I tilted my head.
"They'll think it's us", he said grimly.
"Of course", I replied. "That's the point."
He glanced at me, cautious. "Even Thorne?"
I didn't answer right away.
"Especially Thorne", I whispered at last.
General Caelum Thorne
I stood at the edge of the razed village, ash crunching underfoot. Charred wood, shattered stone… but something didn't sit right.
No demonic markings. No claw tracks. Too few bodies.
"Why fake a demon attack?" Lysandre asked beside me, brows furrowed.
"Because someone wants the war back", I said. "And they don't care how it returns."
Seraphina stomped away, cursing. "I say we ride. Give them a proper reason to strike."
But I stared at the horizon.
And saw something else.
Not a threat.
A strategy.
Rin was still playing.
And I was already a piece on her board.
Ayaka Rin
The map in my tent had begun to look more like a story than a battle plan.
Blue banners. Red ones. Paths of grain, smoke, and shadow.
The game was simple.
Let them tear the truce apart with their own hands.
And when the dust settled?
Let the world remember who never broke it.
Not the demons.Not me.
Only them.