CH982 · Rewrite
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Chapter 982: Unplanned War

“What is going on?”

In the central tent, the air had gone heavy. Iron Axe stared at the map spread across the long table, his brow drawn down hard. “There is no red mist supply line, no warning sign. It is as if all these demons appeared out of thin air.”

The alarm had gone up fast; the platoons of the First Army were already in position. Yet something clung inside the tent that positions alone couldn’t fix — a formless confusion, the kind that asks not what do we do next, but what does this mean?

And it had happened while Sylvie was watching. If an enemy could materialize eight kilometers away without notice, what was to stop them from appearing inside the camp itself? Until that question had an answer, no one would truly calm down.

Outside, the Longsong Cannons began again after their half-night of silence, rate of fire pushed to maximum. Saving shells no longer mattered. What mattered now was reducing the enemy’s numbers before they closed.

“It is impossible for them to appear out of nowhere,” Agatha said, her voice flat with certainty. “The Red Mist is essential to demon survival — that has not changed. If it were not, they would have taken over the world already. Their numbers near ten thousand. Without a supply line, simply running to this position would kill them, let alone fighting.”

“According to our previous intelligence, this outpost could sustain at most a few thousand demons.” Iron Axe traced the lines on the map. “So what you’re saying is that there is another supply line nearby, one the Eye of Magic never found?”

“That is the only possible answer—”

“No.” Edith cut in. “There is one more.” She rested her hand flat on the table. “We were able to hide our supply line from view underground. The demons may have arrived at the same idea.”

“An underground tunnel from Taquila to here?” Agatha shook her head. “Setting aside whether they ever acquired a worm carrier, a tunnel large enough for demons to move through would be an enormous undertaking. It conflicts with the timeline of their first appearance at Taquila. And an operation on that scale should have been visible to Sylvie.”

“I am not suggesting they started from your hometown.” Edith stretched forward and pressed her finger to an X marked on the map. “What if they only started from the outpost?”

“What do you mean,” Iron Axe said, quietly.

“Consider the location where the demons appeared.” She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a curious position, isn’t it? Think about it — if we were a traditional army. Noble cavalry, Union witches, it doesn’t matter which. What would our situation look like?”

Everyone in the tent turned to the map.

The tent held members of the Adviser Department, battalion commanders, allied representatives. Not a slow mind among them. Within moments the shape of it resolved, and the sound that rose from the tent was a collective intake of breath — quickly swallowed by the cannon thunder outside, but visible on every face around the table.

Morning Light was the one who broke the silence when the guns paused. “Are you saying… the outpost was a trap?”

A traditional army would have had to mount a siege to destroy the fortification, exposing its rear to the north. If demons appeared at that moment, they would form a pincer with the Taquila ruins — and the First Army would be caught in a pocket not much wider than two kilometers. Under pressure from both sides, the outcome would not need to be calculated.

“So they were certain we would come?” Iron Axe asked.

Edith did not answer. She looked at Zooey, the ancient witches’ representative.

Zooey’s expression had not changed. It rarely did. “If it was the Union, we would have come. Letting the demons extend their red mist line is suicide — the destruction of a city always begins with a failure to stop their advance.” She paused. “But they have never done this before.”

“Well. The times have changed.” Edith gestured broadly. “If this is the case, much else becomes clear. The demons did not believe humans could threaten a Devilbeast wing, and Neverwinter is essentially a witch city — so they set this trap. If fortune had favored them, they might have destroyed every combat witch at a stroke. To draw us in, they withheld their attacks on the march, deliberately shrank their surveillance perimeter — all to bring us here. What do you all make of that reading?”

“Even granting all of that,” Sir Eltek said, puzzled, “how did the demons hide from Miss Sylvie?”

“Her ability is not omniscient,” Edith replied. “There is a considerable gap between her observation distance and her perspective distance. Taking the Devilbeasts into account, she generally observes within a limited range. Under those conditions, the Eye of Magic would have left a large area unchecked.”

The conclusion made itself known without being spoken.

“Of course, I am not blaming Miss Sylvie.” Edith’s voice softened slightly. “Only — we relied on her too much.”

Magic power was a constraint no witch could escape. To maintain sustained observation, Sylvie had to ration her reserves with discipline. Watching the deep layers of earth demanded more than casual vigilance demanded — like trying to see through the floor of the sky from very high above. Checking every kilometer of the Fertile Plains in detail was simply not possible. She would have concentrated on the ground near the outpost; and limited by observation distance, even that scrutiny would not have run very deep.

“We can verify this now.” Agatha activated the Sigil of Listening. “Sylvie — can you look beneath the Army of Demons?”

“Underground?” Sylvie, who had been directing cannon fire, sounded momentarily startled. “I can try, but my magic power…”

“It’s all right.”

“Understood.” A pause. Then her voice returned, and the surprise in it was unmistakable. “This is strange… the Magic Eye’s line of sight is blocked. I can’t see anything. There is only darkness underground.”

Silence in the tent.

The result confirmed Edith’s reading without adding a single word.

Being tricked by an enemy was not a comfortable feeling. For a moment the only sound was the cadence of the cannons outside.

Then Iron Axe clapped his hands together.

“Lord?” Morning Light asked.

“If that is the case,” he said slowly, “I can rest easier.” He looked around the table. “In the end, who is the hunter and who is the prey will be decided by the battle ahead.”

“You are right, Lord Commander.” Edith smiled, and it carried something bright in it. “They did not guess their opponent correctly — yet the result is the same. Both sides can count themselves lucky. Perhaps we are luckier. We arrived at this position without losses. We have a fully prepared defense. They lost their bait and now face soldiers who are ready for them. Whatever angle you approach this from, the situation is not bad.” She paused. “As I said from the start — we need not concern ourselves overmuch with the enemy’s intentions. No matter what they want to do, we only need to kill whoever is foolish enough to step in front of us. And that is precisely what the First Army does best.”

The alarm cut across her final word — sharper this time, its pitch unmistakable.

Air-attack warning.

Everyone in the tent understood.

The Devilbeasts, the forward element, had entered the First Army’s range.

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