Chapter 27

  The Attack Begins

  Luna awoke with a start.

  Her ears twitched first. Not at shouting — not yet — but at the low, clipped urgency in Lux’s voice cutting through the thin veil of sleep.

  “Movement in the trees! Up! Now!”

  Her eyes flew open, instincts dragging her fully awake. The air was frigid against her skin as she pushed herself up, scanning the darkened hall. Combatants were already on their feet, grabbing weapons and checking gear. The wolfmen were first to the door, their low growls carrying across the room like rolling thunder.

  She caught sight of Lux near the barricaded entrance, his gaze fixed on the black silhouettes shifting between the tree trunks beyond the settlement’s edge. Even in the half-light of the torches, she could count them — dozens, too many. Then the shapes resolved, their numbers swelling like a tide.

  Sixty… maybe more.

  And every uniform she recognized was one she hated. The baron’s colors.

  Her stomach tightened.

  From the treeline, a single man broke formation and strode forward, his posture straight as a spear. His armor gleamed even in the weak dawn light, polished to a shine that looked almost unnatural in the wilds.

  “I am Captain Garreth Von Strider!” his voice boomed, carried by lungs used to command. “By order of the Baron of Springvale, present yourselves for due process!”

  The forest seemed to hold its breath after the declaration. The troops behind him stood in rigid lines, their spears and halberds catching the morning light like a wall of metal teeth.

  Luna’s gaze slid to Lux, searching his expression. His jaw tightened, but his voice was calm when he finally spoke — more to himself than to anyone else.

  “Shit… doesn’t look like Jack has come.”

  For a heartbeat, she wondered if the absence of this “Jack” was a relief or a bad omen. Then she caught the flicker in Lux’s eyes — not fear, but calculation — and knew this was about to turn into something far worse than a standoff.

  If you want, I can flow straight into Lux issuing orders for defense while Luna processes that the baron sent nearly his full springvale guard force here.

  The first thing Luna noticed — even before the captain’s voice had finished echoing — was the composition of the enemy line.

  Sixty soldiers, yes… but only three mages.

  Her eyes narrowed. The baron was holding some of his magical strength back. That meant one of two things — either he underestimated them, or he didn’t think he’d need more.

  Then her gaze shifted back to Lux.

  She had seen him angry before. Focused, calculating, protective. But this… this was different. His jaw locked like a steel trap, his posture radiating something dangerous.

  The man didn’t hesitate. He strode toward a half-collapsed wall on the settlement’s edge — a jagged pile of old bricks left from whatever building once stood there. With quick, sure movements, he climbed, boots scraping stone, until he was level with the treeline.

  For a heartbeat, Luna swore the dawn itself paused to listen.

  Lux stared straight at the man in polished armor, eyes hard enough to cut glass. Then his voice ripped through the air like a cannon shot:

  “I am Major Lux of the First Special Forces, Regiment, United States Army!

  You want me and mine—”

  He jabbed a finger toward the settlement behind him, toward the people huddled in fear but watching —

  “—try and take them!”

  The captain’s expression didn’t change, but a ripple moved through the soldiers at his back, their formation subtly shifting at the challenge. The mages, too, straightened like wolves scenting prey.

  Luna felt her own heartbeat quicken. He’d just painted a target on himself — bigger than ever. But creator help anyone who tried to claim it.

  The soldiers on the other side shifted, confused murmurs rising, but Lux wasn’t finished. His voice rose again, fueled by something raw and unshakable.

  “I’VE SEEN WAR AND I’VE SEEN BATTLE. I’VE FOUGHT AGAINST WORSE ODDS THAN THIS—AND I’M DAMN SURE NOT AFRAID OF WHAT YOU AND YOUR MEN CAN DO!”

  There was a beat of silence, then sudden laughter rippled through the enemy ranks. Captain Garreth barked a sharp laugh of his own.

  “Crazy fool! What’s a ‘United States’? But you do have balls, I’ll give you that.”

  Luna’s focus shifted to her side—her fighters, the ragged line of demi-humans who had taken up weapons for her cause. Something had changed. They weren’t just looking at Lux—they were transfixed. Their eyes seemed to shine in the torchlight, their stances sharper, backs straighter. In that moment, they didn’t look like a group of runaways and survivors.

  They looked like a military—one ready to fight.

  Lux’s voice cut through the night like a drawn blade.

  “One last thing, Captain Strider—do you and your men a favor. Leave, and don’t come back… or you won’t see another sunrise.”

  The words hung in the air, heavy, like a promise carved in stone.

  Captain Strider’s smirk twisted into something harder. He straightened, raising his arm.

  “Have it your way! MEN—FORWARD!”

  The enemy line began to surge, boots pounding against the dirt in unison.

  Lux stepped down from the pile of crumbled brick, landing with a dull thud. The moment his boots hit the ground, his voice snapped out, crisp and commanding.

  “Rath, Dorrin, you’re on the left flank—keep them from circling us!”

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  “Toln, Jerr, hold the center line—don’t let them break through!”

  “Lysa, take the rooftops, eyes on the mages! Call out if they start casting!”

  “Dorn, with me—we’re plugging the first breach!”

  “Korr, Sera, Veth, keep the rear clear—if they slip past, you all stop them cold!”

  His words cut through panic like a knife, turning scattered fighters into a formation. The demi-humans straightened, gripping their weapons with new resolve, and Luna could feel the change—every order landing like it was meant for soldiers, not survivors.

  It was the same dangerous spark she’d seen before… only now, it was a fire spreading through all of them.

  From Luna’s perch high in the shattered remains of a roof, the world below looked like the opening move of a game she’d never wanted to play.

  The torchlight painted the clearing in swaying gold, the enemy’s armor catching the firelight like jagged teeth. Captain Strider’s men advanced in a steady wall, the sound of boots and clinking steel like a drumbeat.

  She crouched low, tail coiling tight around her leg, every muscle drawn taut. From up here she could see everything—and yet, she felt powerless.

  Her eyes found Lux at the center of it all, a lone human standing shoulder to shoulder with the demi-humans she had fought to protect. His jaw was set, his stance unshaken, even with sixty soldiers bearing down. His voice carried upward, each name and order like a hammer striking steel.

  “Rath, Dorrin—left flank!”

  “Toln, Jerr—center hold!”

  “Lysa—rooftops, eyes on the mages!”

  “Dorn—with me!”

  “Korr, Sera, Veth—rear guard!”

  They moved without hesitation.

  They believed him.

  Luna pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the quick, shallow thrum of her heart. Why? she thought. Why do they believe him so easily? Why… am I starting to as well?

  The wall of enemy soldiers closed in, shields and spears forming a hungry maw ready to swallow them whole.

  Luna lowered her head for a heartbeat, eyes squeezed shut.

  She didn’t know what gods Lux prayed to—if he prayed at all—but in that moment she sent her own silent plea to whatever creator might listen.

  Let him know what he’s doing… please.

  She opened her eyes just in time to see Lux raise his blade and shout, his voice ringing like a battle horn—

  “NOW!”

  The defenders surged forward as one.

  From her vantage point, Luna had braced herself for a desperate struggle—steel grinding against steel, bodies locking in a grueling push for ground.

  But when Lux’s command rang out, what followed was nothing short of brutal elegance.

  Rath hit the first soldier like a boulder rolling downhill, smashing through his shield and sending him sprawling. Dorrin was right behind him, cleaving the man’s spear in half before driving him back into his comrades.

  Lux was a blur—ducking under a sword swing, driving his short blade between the gaps in armor, kicking a man’s knee out from under him before pivoting into the next target. His movements were sharp, efficient… practiced.

  The enemy line fractured almost instantly. What should have been a grinding advance turned into chaos as demi-humans darted in and out, striking from blind angles. Lysa sprang up the rubble of half collapsed roofs, firing arrows into the cluster of mages before they could even lift their hands for a spell.

  By the time Captain Strider barked, “HOLD THE LINE!” two of his men were already down, another clutching a bleeding arm, and the rest stepping back without realizing it.

  Luna’s tail twitched in disbelief. They’re cutting through them like… butter.

  Her ears flicked forward as she caught the captain’s voice again, laced with a note she hadn’t expected—surprise.

  Strider’s eyes locked on Lux, narrowing as if finally seeing the him for the first time.

  Down below, Lux gave a quick hand signal, and Dorn and Jerr surged in from the flank, collapsing the enemy’s formation even further. Every move, every strike was deliberate.

  Luna swallowed hard.

  This wasn’t luck.

  This was war, and Lux… Lux knew it.

  From her perch, Luna’s claws dug into the crumbling stone as the clash below intensified.

  Strider’s men tried to rally, shoving spears forward in a bristling wall, but Lux’s voice cut through the din.

  “Rath, Dorrin—push their left harder!”

  The wolfmen slammed into the formation, sending men tumbling like scattered dice.

  “Dorn, Jerr—flank right!”

  Steel flashed, blood sprayed, and the captain’s line buckled under the coordinated pressure.

  One man down.

  Then another.

  Then five more in quick succession.

  Lux moved like a shadow in daylight—there and gone, striking deep before fading back into the chaos. Even Luna, used to reading warriors, couldn’t predict him fully. He wasn’t just fighting; he was directing the battle, every kill calculated to open another hole in the enemy’s defense.

  By the tenth casualty, Strider’s voice had gone from confident bark to ragged snarl.

  By the fifteenth, his jaw was set tight, eyes sharp with the knowledge that he was bleeding too many men for too little gain.

  He raised his sword.

  “I don’t know what your game is, or the magic you’re using, but it won’t last! Mages—!”

  The last word barely left his mouth when a sharp thunk echoed from the treeline. One of his robed mages, mid-step toward retreat, jerked violently as an arrow sprouted from his throat.

  Then another fell.

  Then the last crumpled without a sound, an arrow through his temple.

  From somewhere beyond the melee, Lyra’s voice carried, calm and cold:

  “Your magic’s gone.”

  Strider’s eyes went wide before narrowing into a glare that could have cut glass. Without his spellcasters, the balance shifted completely.

  Lux didn’t waste the moment.

  “Press them! Drive them out!”

  The demi-humans surged forward like a wave breaking against weakened stone, forcing the captain’s remaining troops into a stumbling, chaotic retreat.

  From her vantage, Luna tracked Lux as he broke from the line, sprinting after Strider through the churned mud.

  The captain, breathing hard and spitting curses, tried to rally two men to cover his retreat, but Lux cut them down in a blur—one throat opened with a single slash, the other felled by a vicious upward strike.

  Strider stumbled near the wood line, just far enough into the shadows that Luna lost full sight of him, but Lux pressed on, carving through four more soldiers who tried to stand in his way. The last one barely had time to raise his blade before Lux smashed his guard aside and drove steel through his chest.

  The air in the trees was colder, quieter—too quiet. Luna could almost feel the choice Lux made in that instant.

  He slowed, stopped. The woods ahead were dark, too easy for an ambush. Strider had slipped away, but chasing deeper would be suicide for both him and the people depending on him back at the settlement.

  Lux turned, wiping his blade on a fallen man’s cloak, and jogged back toward the others—expression unreadable, jaw set in that way that made him look carved from stone.

  When he emerged from the thinning smoke, the demi-humans parted for him without a word, the battlefield littered with the bodies of six more enemies who wouldn’t see another dawn.

  Luna dropped from her perch the moment Lux cleared the last line of fallen soldiers, her boots hitting the ground hard as she strode toward him. Her heart was pounding—not from fear, but from the rush of seeing something she hadn’t believed possible.

  She grabbed his arm before he could even sheath his blade.

  “What—” her voice caught, still breathless, “what was that? Those… those moves—how did you do that? We were outnumbered four to one, Lux!”

  He stood there, chest rising and falling with steady, controlled breaths, eyes still burning from the fight. Blood—not his—spattered across his coat and jaw.

  “You didn’t just hold them back,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You broke them. Strider’s men ran from you. That doesn’t happen.”

  Lux’s gaze finally shifted to meet hers, and for a moment she thought she saw something flicker—an echo of that dangerous look he’d worn when he stood atop the rubble challenging Strider.

  Lux wiped the edge of his blade clean on a fallen soldier’s cloak before sliding it back into its sheath. He didn’t answer her right away—his eyes tracked the treeline as if expecting the enemy to regroup, but when nothing stirred, he finally looked back at her.

  “That,” he said quietly, “wasn’t magic. It was training.”

  Luna frowned. “Training? For what?”

  He took a breath, the cold morning air clouding around him.

  “In my world, there was a man… a monster in human skin. His name was Adolf Hitler. He led an empire built on hate, slaughtered millions, and would have taken the world if we didn’t stop him. My unit was given extra training—small group tactics, close-quarters combat, makeshift weapons crafting ammo production, and infiltration—anything that would let us capture or kill him if we got the chance.”

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t interrupt.

  “I’ve… got memories scattered through my head,” Lux continued, tapping his temple. “Most of it’s just fragments—flashes of people, orders, maps, fire—but today… during that fight… something clicked. My body moved like it remembered everything. I could read their lines, see the gaps before they even formed. That’s why I could keep us alive.”

  He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear.

  “There’s more I should know—plans, strategies, knowledge—but it’s locked away. When the rest of the memories come back, I’ll have more than just instincts to go on. Until then…” his eyes hardened again, “I can fight. And I can win.”

  Luna studied him for a long moment, the air between them heavy with the weight of what he’d just admitted.