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Chapter 1283: The Source of Information

Word of the counter-ambush reached Iron Axe at the Sedimentation Bay in the Kingdom of Wolfheart.

He dispatched a carrier pigeon at once — praising Fish Ball’s leadership, instructing the unit to hold their position and await reinforcement. The enemy in this fight had been a nobles’ alliance, not demons, but that made the victory more useful to him, not less. A small unit outnumbered twenty to one, running bayonet charges on an empty magazine: that story, circulated through the army, would lift morale more than weeks of steady refugee retrieval. The First Army needed to hear it, especially now, especially as the broader campaign drew toward its close.

Two pieces of bad news had reached Iron Axe before this one.

The first: soldiers operating inside the Red Mist zone were being harassed by the very nobles they had gone to protect civilians from. Knights from the Kingdom of Everwinter, answering to something other than their own survival, were now actively attacking units responsible for evacuating refugees. Human beings, it turned out, were better at disrupting the evacuation than demons. The Red Mist zone was too dangerous for deep penetration, so the First Army had been staying near its outer edge — which meant fewer people were actually reaching the cities, and fewer refugees were getting out.

The second: the demons’ assault had sharpened. A large formation of Devilbeasts had swept out of the Red Mist zone in the southeast and descended on the Archduke Island. The island garrison had prepared for the assault and suspended all maritime transport. But the Devilbeasts — with the kind of tactical cunning that Iron Axe still found unsettling in creatures that were supposedly running on instinct — had simply bypassed the outposts and reappeared above a temporary evacuation unit on the island instead. The unit had just been warned the Devilbeasts were heading east. They were retreating at speed when the swarm found them.

They fought hard. It did not matter. Nearly two thousand refugees had been attacked. At least a hundred soldiers were dead. The exact count was still coming in.

Iron Axe had no choice but to slow the campaign.

The two incidents compounded each other in ways the General Staff had anticipated in principle but not in timing. They had expected noble betrayal — they had not expected the noble families, who had been fighting each other for the Everwinter throne for nearly two years, to unite so quickly behind the demons. Something had changed the calculation for them. Something the demons had offered or threatened.

The immigration campaign was drawing to its end.

At the Cage Mountain and the Sedimentation Bay combined, Iron Axe had roughly five thousand soldiers — less than a sixth of the First Army’s total strength. He did not know the demons’ force numbers. Until he did, he could not afford to lose any more men. And the thing that frightened him most was not a direct assault: it was the possibility that the demons would push into unmanned territory while his forces were still assembling, seizing ground the First Army had already occupied before it could be held.

There were no armored trains in the Kingdom of Wolfheart. No mobile fortress to anchor a line.

A soldier appeared in the doorway. “Sir. Chief of the General Staff, Miss Edith Kant, has just arrived at the port.”

Iron Axe looked up from the map. The timing was almost too convenient. He had been hoping for Edith’s counsel, and she was already here. “I’ll meet her at the dock.”

At the port, he found the Pearl of the Northern Region surrounded by her retinue of clerks, all of them wearing the particular expression of men who have survived a long sea voyage in close proximity to their supervisor — profound relief, lightly varnished with the fear of seeming too relieved. Iron Axe had seen soldiers after battle look calmer.

Within a year of assuming the role of chief of the General Staff, Edith had made herself indispensable in a way that left no room for debate.

Iron Axe had been thinking about that during the walk to the dock — the contrast between Edith and the nobles of Everwinter and Wolfheart, who had surrendered their people to demonic influence with what looked, from the outside, like calculation. She was a former duke’s daughter, just as wellborn as any of them. He had never been able to explain the difference to himself entirely.

“Mr. Commander-in-Chief,” Edith said, bowing with the precise economy she brought to everything. “It has been some time. I hope my clerks were not too much of an inconvenience.”

“They all did good work,” Iron Axe replied, returning the military salute. They held the same rank; the formalities between them had always been thin. Apart from Roland and Lady Silvermoon, Edith was the only person Iron Axe sought conversation with by choice.

“In other words — no pleasant surprises.” She turned to the clerks. “It seems your performance was merely adequate.” Then, back to Iron Axe: “I brought new weapons from His Majesty. The latest intelligence drove the design. Shall we?”

Iron Axe’s expression changed. “Of course.”

The unloading area had already been sealed off and posted with guards. Huge wooden crates stood in neat rows along the quay, many already opened, their contents wrapped in parchment paper.

Iron Axe’s eye went immediately to a small cannon.

“That one,” Edith confirmed, with something approaching satisfaction. “Seventy-five millimeter caliber — His Majesty designed it to fill the gap between the mortar and the Longsong Cannon. No witch required for transport. Two soldiers or a horse can manage it, and one more person can carry the shells. Portable. Field-ready.”

Iron Axe turned the implications over quickly. Short-range weapons like the anti-demon grenade and the mortar had never been adequate against a Spider Demon’s armored mass. This gun could engage one at distance, in open field, without requiring an artillery emplacement. Front-line units could respond to a Spider Demon without waiting for the heavy guns to set up.

“The semi-automatic rifle there,” Edith continued, moving down the row. “Testing results were strong — two or three of those equal the suppression of a heavy machine gun. You’ll recognize the name: Van’er, the Artillery Battalion commander, produced the original design. His Majesty modified it later, but the name stayed.”

She paused briefly. “This is only a transitional model. A fully automatic weapon is in production. You’ll receive it when it’s ready.”

“The crates at the far end contain an improved anti-demon grenade. Larger caliber than the previous version. The Ministry of Chemical Industry updated the formula.”

By the time they reached the far edge of the unloading area, the clerks had dispersed. Only the two of them remained.

“The battle isn’t going well.” Edith said it without inflection, as though she were reading weather.

Iron Axe realized, a beat later, that she had been maneuvering them away from the crowd the whole time. “You knew already?”

“You wouldn’t have met me at the dock personally if something wasn’t wrong.”

“I never could fool you.” He laid it out plainly — the nobles’ betrayal, the Devilbeast attack, the losses, the assembly delays. “Before marine transport resumes, I need several more months to consolidate the army and resupply. The demons could move at any time. Sylvie, Lightning, and Maggie can monitor the border, but they can’t watch everything. We’re going into a war with almost no intelligence on the enemy. That is not a position I like.”

Edith listened without interrupting. Then: “I can’t fix the transport problem. But intelligence isn’t difficult.”

“You already have a plan.”

“You’re thinking like a soldier — the First Army as the only instrument. That’s why it feels impossible.” She spoke slowly, considering each word. “The demons used the nobles against us, yes. But in doing so, they created an opening. As long as there are unevacuated cities, we can put people inside them.”

The picture settled into place for Iron Axe. “Not soldiers.”

“Soldiers are obvious. You want rats, civilians — ideally locals, people already embedded in the social fabric, who won’t be noticed even if the entire city is searched. There are dozens of ways to motivate them and dozens of ways to communicate. We’ve done harder things.” A small smile. “Besides — didn’t you receive a black card at some point? Try contacting them.”

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