Chapter 178: The General Who Bled the West

  Later that evening.

  Selvara stood before Selene and Margrave Alaric.

  Ivaline and her companions remained inside the chamber — not seated, not relaxed — simply standing.

  Watching.

  If the chameleon beast so much as twitched with killing intent, she would not leave this room alive.

  Selvara, however, seemed utterly at ease.

  Her tail flicked lazily behind her as she smiled.

  “So… the one leading them is…?” the Margrave asked.

  “Yep. None other than Silva the Slaughter. One of the Eight Demon Generals under the Demon Lord.”

  The name alone thickened the air.

  Alaric frowned.

  “Weren’t the beast armies still clashing with the Brave on the western front?”

  “That information is outdated, Margrave,” Selvara replied lightly. “They did clash. A spectacular one. Blood everywhere. Both sides tore chunks out of each other.”

  Her smile sharpened.

  “And then Silva scattered his entire army.”

  “Scattered…?”

  “He broke them into small detachments and slipped them through the cracks in your defensive lines. Human generals were obsessed with holding the coast — so he simply stopped attacking the coast.”

  Silence pressed against the walls.

  “And once inside,” she continued, “they regrouped. Behind you.”

  Selene’s fingers tightened slightly on the table.

  “That’s… bold.”

  “But effective,” Selvara corrected.

  For years, the Demon Lord’s forces had been contained along the western coastline. Humanity never allowed deep penetration inland.

  Until now.

  Margrave Alaric exhaled slowly.

  “I heard Silva landed with twelve thousand troops.”

  “He did,” Selvara confirmed. “After the initial clash, only four battalions survived the infiltration.”

  “And now?”

  “In my last engagement at the republic? Two battalions remain.”

  “So roughly two thousand beasts.”

  Selene and Alaric exchanged grim looks.

  Two thousand beasts.

  Converted into human terms?

  Five to six thousand soldiers in raw combat value.

  The fort originally housed three thousand. Reinforcements added another thousand.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  After the surprise siege:

  Five hundred dead.

  One hundred more from reinforcements.

  Many wounded.

  That left roughly forty-four hundred — and not all fit to fight.

  They still held the advantage of walls and elevation.

  But this was no longer a war of simple arithmetic.

  Selvara’s smile dimmed, just slightly.

  “Silva sacrifices numbers to create position. He lets you cut off his limbs… so his fangs can reach your throat.”

  Alaric’s jaw tightened.

  “In conventional warfare, attackers need triple the numbers to take a fort.”

  “Correct,” Selvara said softly. “Which is why he won’t rely on numbers.”

  A brief silence followed.

  Then Selene spoke, voice firm.

  “Venom already leaked your defensive patterns to them.”

  The words dropped like a stone into water.

  Ripples of realization spread through the room.

  They were not merely being attacked.

  They were being analyzed.

  Selene turned to Alaric.

  “Margrave. Does this city have secret passages leading outside?”

  “We do. But you don’t mean—”

  “Seal them. Immediately. If Silva knows, infiltration units may already be waiting.”

  Alaric did not hesitate this time. He signaled his men.

  “Also,” Selene continued, “stockpile water. As much as possible.”

  “… Poisoning the river.”

  “The likelihood is high.”

  Alaric grimaced.

  “So that’s why he pushed his second battalion forward. To trap us inside.”

  No one disagreed.

  For the first time, he felt genuine relief that Selene was here.

  And then there was Selvara.

  Beastman. Assassin. Informant.

  A living contradiction.

  “Oh! Margrave.”

  He stiffened. “Yes?”

  Selene jolted slightly — and the Margrave nearly did the same.

  “You should rotate resting shifts aggressively,” Selvara added. “Last time, Silva rotated assault waves. Dawn until midnight. Harassment. Taunts from the front — infiltration from the rear. If they shout too loudly at your gates…”

  Her eyes gleamed.

  “…check your walls.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Satisfied, Selvara clasped her hands behind her back.

  “So? Do I still need to stay here, or am I free to wander?”

  Selene and Alaric dismissed her.

  Planning resumed immediately.

  Outside the Chamber

  Selvara stretched luxuriously.

  Crack.

  Her spine twisted with unsettling flexibility.

  “Sooo… what’s my role now?”

  “Stay with us,” Ivaline answered calmly.

  Selvara blinked.

  “Ara? So fast? Inviting me into the harem already? How bold.”

  “N O T T H A T.”

  Seraphine snarled, wrapping an arm possessively around Ivaline’s shoulders.

  Lyra stepped forward.

  “You’re an anomaly. We don’t trust you.”

  “Then let me fight.”

  “You might stab our troops in the back.”

  “Then confine me?”

  “You’d slip out,” Vaelis said flatly.

  Selvara tapped her chin thoughtfully.

  “So I can’t fight. Can’t be confined. What role does that leave?”

  “Under surveillance,” Seraphine replied.

  “If you act suspicious—”

  “You’ll kill me,” Selvara finished, smiling. “Sounds fair.”

  She leaned slightly toward Ivaline.

  “I do want to talk with little Ivaline more. How is life here? This is the Pinta Kingdom, right?”

  “You crossed the border without knowing where you were?” Lyra’s stare sharpened.

  Selvara shrugged.

  “When you’re being chased by a beast platoon? Direction be damned. Survive first. Geography later.”

  No one could refute that.

  So Ivaline turned and began walking.

  Selvara followed.

  Then Seraphine.

  Lyra.

  Vaelis.

  Four shadows around the half-elf now.

  The hallway torches flickered as they passed.

  Selvara glanced at Ivaline from the corner of her eye.

  A half-elf.

  In a kingdom that did not shackle her.

  No chains.

  No doctrine.

  No collars.

  Only companions who would bare their fangs for her.

  That… unsettled Selvara more than any battlefield ever had.

  She smiled.

  But this time—

  It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  Later That Night

  On the walls.

  After receiving Selvara’s warning, the Margrave ordered the troops to watch opposite the noise — not toward it.

  And they found them.

  A detachment attempting to scale the rear walls under cover of taunts at the main gate.

  Knights and adventurers intercepted them swiftly.

  The clash was brief.

  Decisive.

  Word spread quickly.

  Selvara’s credibility rose.

  Suspicion did not vanish — but it thinned.

  She was granted limited freedom within the fort.

  Restricted from key buildings.

  Always watched.

  Always measured.

  Alone on Watch

  Selvara stood atop the wall.

  The night wind tugged at her hair.

  She looked down at her hands.

  At the faint scars around her wrists.

  The kind left by shackles.

  Her tail stilled.

  Below, in the courtyard, Ivaline laughed softly at something Vaelis said.

  Unrestrained.

  Unafraid.

  Selvara’s throat tightened faintly.

  “…Was this always possible?”

  Her gaze lingered on the half-elf.

  A girl raised in warmth.

  Unaware of the rot beyond these walls.

  The chains.

  The doctrine.

  The ugliness of men.

  Selvara’s eyes darkened.

  “What would you do… if I showed you?” she whispered.

  “What if humanity isn’t worth saving?”

  The wind did not answer.

  It only cut colder.