From a distance, it looked like nothing.

  Solara and the others stood around the central structure, relaxed to the point of carelessness. No movement. No urgency. No obvious preparation. Just people standing about in the open like they were waiting, rather than the opening move of a battle.

  That was what bothered Renn.

  He lay flat behind a fallen tree at the edge of the forest, binoculars pressed to his face. Beside him, another man mirrored the position, equally still, equally tense.

  “Steve,” Renn muttered quietly, not lowering the lenses. “As I said, I’ve no idea what they’re doing. I didn’t want to push my luck trying to get closer. That captain—honestly, he seems like a complete idiot. Does everything before he thinks. But that woman? The lieutenant?”

  He swallowed.

  “She’s on a completely different level.”

  The man beside him lowered his binoculars with a slow, irritated sigh.

  “Renn,” he said flatly. “I’ve told you before. You call me boss. Like everyone else.”

  He adjusted his grip and peered through the lenses again. “And to be honest, at this point, we might as well have attacked them in the city. This has been a complete waste of time so far.”

  Renn frowned. “What’s got into you? You were never like this before that Ravon arsehole joined the Alliance.”

  Steve’s jaw tightened.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he snapped quietly. “Do you expect special treatment just because you’ve known me longer? You had one job, Renn. One. And I’m not seeing the benefit of waiting this long.”

  Renn shifted slightly, irritation creeping in. “We’re aware of that ‘united front’ image people love to throw around about them. We know it’s bullshit. They are the furthest thing from united.”

  Steve snorted. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t even see most of them out there.”

  He tilted the binoculars toward the distant city. “Hopefully, the boys back in town bring Ravon’s little toy with them.”

  Renn lowered his own binoculars. “You really need to stop letting him get to you.”

  Steve finally set the lenses down beside him and leaned back against the tree. “Think you might be getting a little jealous there, Renn? Thought you liked staying in the shadows.”

  He smiled thinly. “Besides, when we cut down those holier-than-thou idiots, that man won’t have a choice but to hold up his end of the deal. Or he’ll be next.”

  Renn hesitated, then followed suit, lowering his binoculars as well. “Why is it you even want someone like him following you? He causes more problems than he’s worth.”

  Steve opened his mouth.

  “Well, you see—”

  A voice drifted down from above them.

  “Tell me about it. Absolute crybaby bitch.”

  Both men screamed.

  They scrambled, weapons half-drawn, hearts slamming—only to freeze as they looked up.

  Caelan sat casually on a thick tree branch above them, one leg dangling, hands resting comfortably behind his head.

  “Jesus, boys, chill,” he said lightly. “Fuck me. It’s only me.”

  Renn’s face went pale. “Oh—hey, Captain. This is, uh—this is my friend—”

  “Save the horseshit,” Caelan interrupted pleasantly. “Commander Steve Dawnings. Founding member of the Immortal Alliance of True Commanders.”

  His smile widened just a touch.

  “And currently, the man with the largest force behind him out of that special little club.”

  Steve’s shock melted quickly into a cocky grin as he looked up at Caelan. “Pretty confident for a man who’s about to watch every single one of his followers get eliminated.”

  Caelan laughed.

  “Fuck me, cocky? never!” he said. “I mean, all this effort just to recruit Ravon and whatever idiots he’s been running and hiding with all this time.”

  He leaned forward slightly on the branch. “What—too scared to backstab the other commanders without Ravon kissing your arse first? Aww. It’s cute, really. Nice that he finally found a little friend.”

  Steve’s expression snapped.

  “ATTACK!” he roared.

  Caelan dropped from the branch a few feet away, landing lightly with his hands still in his jacket pockets.

  He took one step forward.

  Then wobbled.

  “Christ,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he laughed softly. “Do you need to be so loud? Come on, mate—head’s pounding.” He waved a lazy hand. “See, funny story—”

  Renn moved.

  In a heartbeat, he was behind Caelan, blade flashing downward at terrifying speed.

  Caelan sighed.

  He turned faster than Renn could process, caught the knife hand mid-swing, and spoke without interest.

  “Mach punt.”

  Caelan’s leg snapped up.

  The impact hit square between Renn’s legs with a sound like thunder.

  Renn folded instantly, air ripped from his lungs as he collapsed to the ground in a choking, wordless heap.

  Caelan glanced down at him, mildly annoyed.

  “Bitch, I’m fucking monologuing. Wait your turn.” He looked back at Steve. “Now, as I was saying—”

  Steve barked out a laugh, clapping once. “It’s true what they say about you, Captain. Truly mad.”

  He spread his arms wide. “If you knew what was coming, you’d know I’m beyond that Ravon fool. Such a shame you never finished your little recruitment event. Sorry—your trial isn’t happening today.”

  Gunfire cracked through the forest. Screams followed.

  Steve’s smile widened. “Now watch as my actual army wipes out your pathetic little group. That is what it means to be a true commander.”

  Caelan raised an eyebrow.

  “What are you even on about, mate?”

  He blinked, then lifted both brows exaggeratedly. “Oh shit. Have you actually not figured it out yet?”

  Steve glanced down at Renn. “Get up. My men don’t behave like this in front of the enemy.”

  Renn groaned, clutching himself as he staggered upright. “That… actually hurt.”

  Steve ignored him, eyes locked on Caelan. “Whatever dumb little game you planned is over. You couldn’t have accounted for us being here.”

  Caelan tilted his head. “You know your ambush is the third trial, right?”

  Silence.

  Steve stared.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Renn stared.

  “What?” Steve said flatly.

  “No,” he shook his head. “That’s not possible. You had no idea we’d be here today. There’s no way.”

  Caelan smiled and pointed at Renn. “Oh, Renn met her.”

  Steve stiffened.

  “See, I’ve got this little problem,” Caelan went on conversationally, “where people think I act before I think. Truth is, I spend way too much time in my own head. I end up planning for just about anything.”

  He shrugged. “So my little friend was out your way not too long ago.” His smile sharpened, air quoting, “Picking flowers.”

  He spread his hands. “And ta-da. Third trial.”

  Steve’s eye began to twitch. “No. No. This isn’t a setup. You’re making this shit up. Otherwise you wouldn't have let—”

  “Your two hundred lads stay in the inn on the far side of Virelith? Since you know I rented out the rest, so that you don't know, maybe come up with the idea to divide your forces, oh, and let's not forget,” Caelan cut in easily. “Buy up all the weapons on the market? Grab those rather snazzy red jackets you’re all wearing?”

  He laughed softly. “Damn. That girl’s brilliant. Going to make a mint when we resell them, double profits baby!”

  Caelan rocked back on his heels. “Truth is, this was all a bit over the top. Mostly for shits and giggles. But if I’m honest?”

  He looked Steve dead in the eye.

  “I just really wanted to see if I could pull it off.”

  Caelan laughed.

  Steve shook his head and laughed along with him, sharp and humourless.

  “You almost had me with that, you know,” he said. “I could end this all right now.”

  Caelan tilted his head. “Enlighten me?”

  Steve straightened, confidence returning like a bad habit. “We stop all this. Right now. You follow me, and the two of us go string up Ravon together. Someone as crazy as you might actually come in handy one day.”

  Caelan blinked, then put a hand to his chest, mock-flattered. “Oh, stop.” He smiled. “Only issue is… I think you’re misreading what’s happening here. Like—way more than I thought you would.”

  Steve opened his mouth.

  “Well, I—”

  “Boss,” Renn cut in suddenly. “Where are the others?”

  Steve turned sharply, scanning the treeline beyond the clearing. His smile faltered.

  “Where are the others?” he demanded. “They were meant to surround them.”

  Renn’s grip tightened on his knife. “I don’t know. I’ll—”

  Caelan laughed.

  “Oh, you poor fucking morons,” he said warmly. “Do you honestly not know who we are?”

  He threw his head back and shouted, voice cutting clean across the battlefield.

  “WE ARE THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY!”

  The forest answered.

  Jackets flashed between the trees—red streaks darting back and forth, too fast to track, too many to count.

  “The most batshit crazy people you will ever meet,” Caelan continued, spreading his arms wide. “Now raise my revolutionaries!”

  Steve drew his sword in a panic. “I thought you said there were only a dozen of them!”

  “That’s all I’ve ever seen!” Renn shouted back. “No one mentioned this! Where did they come from?!”

  Caelan chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Just jackets on pull-lines. Little distraction. Keeps that lovely main force of yours busy over there.”

  The screaming intensified.

  Renn spun, eyes wide. “Boss… boss!”

  Above the treeline, golden orbs began to rise. Dozens. Then hundreds.

  Steve’s face twisted with rage as he turned back on Caelan.

  “YOU BASTARD!”

  The world cracked.

  A sonic boom ripped through the clearing as steel met steel.

  Caelan was already there, katana raised, intercepting the blow. He looked almost surprised.

  “Mach speed…?” he murmured.

  Steve leaned into the clash, grinning through clenched teeth. “Ravon told me this is what you used to show off. Don’t think for a moment others haven’t reached your level. I’m not the only one.”

  He pushed harder. “Just you wait until you meet my second-in-command. You’ll wish you brought an army.”

  Caelan’s smile spread slowly, laughter bubbling up—soft at first, then louder.

  “Oh, trust me,” he said, laughing openly now. “I did.”

  Another laugh answered his from somewhere deeper in the forest.

  Elsewhere in the forest, moments before Steve began to slowly lose his little remaining sanity, a separate group waited.

  A handful of men stood scattered among the trees, weapons idle. At their center sat a man wrapped in a heavy cloak, posture relaxed, presence oppressive enough that no one dared speak above a murmur.

  A scream echoed through the woods.

  One of the men flinched and turned. “Sir… did you hear that?”

  The cloaked man laughed quietly. “Don’t worry about it. We sit until the boss gives the order. One of those little crybabies probably spotted one of us.”

  Another man snorted. “Can you blame them? They’ll all be crying when they see you and the boss coming.”

  The cloaked figure rose.

  Slowly. Deliberately.

  He turned his head and looked at the speaker.

  Then he placed a hand on the man’s leg.

  The forest went silent.

  “The boss,” he said calmly, “put time and effort into ensuring these rats would be dealt with exactly as he wished.” His grip tightened. “And you think it’s funny that someone might have compromised it before he gave the word?”

  The man screamed. “Derren—sir—please—!”

  The arm whipped.

  The body wrapped around a nearby tree with a wet, thunderous crack.

  Golden light spilled outward as the man broke apart, drifting up in shimmering orbs.

  Derren tilted his head, eyes lifting toward the canopy. “Huh,” he muttered. “Why do these trees have so few leaves left?”

  Behind him, his men stood frozen, terror carved into every face.

  A runner burst from the treeline, panting. “Derren—the lieutenant woman—she’s starting the trial!”

  Derren turned.

  His fist came forward.

  The runner hit the ground, emerald tint flaring as a gauntlet materialized around Derren’s hand.

  He laughed softly. “I told you all already—I like the sound of that title.”

  He looked back at his men, smile sharpening. “I’ll kill the bitch and take it for myself.”

  “Well?”

  They snapped upright, voices trembling. “YES, LIEUTENANT, SIR!”

  Derren grimaced. “More heart next time.”

  They shouted louder. “YES, LIEUTENANT, SIR!”

  The shout cut through the forest like a blade.

  “ATTACK!”

  Derren didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

  “Clear me a path to that woman,” he said coldly. “Anyone who falls behind will be dealt with. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Sir!” the men shouted.

  “Now move.”

  A dozen figures pushed forward through the trees, confidence bleeding into arrogance.

  “We’ve got this!” one of them yelled.

  The forest answered first.

  Leaves rustled.

  Seven shots cracked through the air in rapid succession.

  One man barely had time to turn his head. Another opened his mouth to shout—

  “It’s coming from—”

  The pile of leaves beside the tree exploded outward.

  Keira burst from the cover already moving, magazine ejecting mid-stride as a fresh one snapped home. She stayed low, fast, surgical.

  Three shots.

  The furthest three dropped before their brains caught up.

  She closed the distance on the nearest man, fired center mass, and rode his falling body forward. As she rolled over him, she fired again—point-blank to the head—never breaking momentum.

  Two more raised their rifles.

  They never finished.

  Keira was already between them, body twisting, one arm pinning both barrels aside. Two shots cracked out—clean, precise headshots—before she drew her pistol and ended it at arm’s length.

  Golden orbs bloomed around her as bodies vanished.

  Derren watched, smiling widely.

  “Renn told me about you,” he said pleasantly. “I’m certainly going to take my time with you.”

  Keira swung the sniper from her shoulder, working the bolt with a practiced snap. She grinned.

  “Oh bitch, I know you’re not talking to me like that. And don’t worry—I’m a girl who likes to take her time.”

  Derren blinked. “…You look like a child. Don’t say that. Ew.”

  Keira wrinkled her nose. “Ew? Oh hell no. Are you one of those? Fuck—how did I end up with the dirty old pedo?”

  “I’ll just kill you now,” Derren said calmly.

  “WAIT!” Keira shouted.

  He paused. “Final words?”

  “Yeah—uh—the captain wanted to make a show of it. There’ll be flying jackets in the treeline. If you could just ignore that, I’ve got you your own extra-special surprise.”

  “I’m going to kill you now.”

  “Don’t promise a girl a good time.”

  The space she’d occupied collapsed inward with a monstrous crash, dust and debris erupting outward. Three sharp metallic impacts rang out, followed by the sound of ricocheting rounds.

  When the dust settled, Derren stood upright.

  From the neck down, his body was encased in emerald plating. Oversized gauntlets gleamed like carved gemstones, armor seamless and heavy with power.

  He looked up into the trees.

  “I’m surprised,” he said. “Given our starting points, moving at speeds like that is impressive.”

  Around the treeline, jackets began darting along pull-lines, blurring in and out of sight.

  Keira sat casually on a branch, eyes locked on him.

  “Oh bitch, don’t try to sweet-talk me now.”

  Derren tapped his chestplate, where the faintest dent marred the surface.

  “Two shots. Clean headshots. I see why people fear you—but against me, those bullets are pebbles.” He reached behind as he spoke, placing a matching helmet sealed over his head with a dull click.

  Keira’s grin faltered for half a second.

  “…Wait. Is that emerald-tier armor?”

  “This,” Derren said proudly, “is a symbol of my relationship with the boss. Why spread the wealth when he can reward the only thing that matters? ME!”

  Keira stared at him.

  Then she laughed.

  Hard.

  “Holy shit,” she wheezed. “That’s sad as fuck. Oh, yes, boss. Love me, boss.”

  “Will you stop laughing and come down here?” Derren snapped.

  Keira laughed louder.

  From somewhere across the forest, another laugh joined hers.

  Caelan’s.

  Keira wiped a tear from her eye and leaned forward on the branch.

  “Oh, this is gonna be fucking good,” she said sweetly. “Brace your ass, bitch. Mummy’s coming.”

  The streets of Virelith were quiet.

  Unnaturally so.

  Braen stood in the middle of an empty avenue, arms folded, staring down the long stretch of stone as if the enemy might suddenly remember their cue and appear out of thin air.

  Aidan and Milo were posted a block away in opposite directions, both leaning against walls with the restless energy of men who had been told to wait and were deeply offended by it.

  Lumi paced in tight circles, hands fluttering as she muttered under her breath.

  “I don’t understand this,” she snapped finally. “There is no one here. I have orders stacked at the shop, three commissions half-finished, and an entire rack of jackets waiting for final stitching. Can I just—”

  “No,” Braen said instantly.

  Lumi froze.

  “Lance Corporal,” Braen continued firmly, “we are on a mission. We were told to hold this line, and that is exactly what we are doing.”

  She glanced up above the buildings, cracking into a smile. “Oh. Look at all the pretty flower petals.”

  Pink and red fragments drifted lazily through the air, catching the sunlight as they floated past shuttered windows.

  Braen’s expression softened despite herself. “Oh, Linda would love this. I really need to catch up with that girl.”

  From further down the street, Takeshi scoffed loudly. “And that’s who was left in charge of me?”

  He spread his arms wide. “Honestly, might as well be bottom rank for all the difference it makes around here.”

  Milo laughed from his post. “Like you do any work in the first place. Fact—have you ever actually eliminated anything yet?”

  Takeshi spun. “WELL, AT LEAST I OUTRANK YOU TWO!”

  “Yeah,” Aidan shot back, “but at least by choice. What’s your excuse?”

  Their voices echoed down the empty streets—five figures shouting at one another in the middle of a city that looked, for all intents and purposes, perfectly peaceful.

  Above them, flower petals continued to fall.

  And not a single enemy in sight to even explain why.