When One woke up from his drunken stupor, he was in his own room. Strangely, he found his three friends kneeling beside his bed. Fia, their “figurehead” commander, stood before them. Her eyes had long gone cold. She then suddenly kicked Three’s stomach.

After Fia sprawled the gigantic youth on the floor, she stomped on his face. “The dumbass knight told me that all of you were selected carefully. The best of the best,” she mocked. “Looks like our filthy blood cannot lie, huh?”

Despite the hangover, One got up and prostrated before Fia. “Prophetess, I planned everything,” he said. “Please only punish me.”

“Don’t try to play a hero, child. All one hundred of you deserve to die by martial law,” Fia sneered. “Unfortunately, I do not have this level of authority. The four of you will still be whipped. Personally, by me.”

Fia focused her breath as she gathered the mana around her. The ash spread out and gripped the four leaders by their legs. Two tried to break the shackles with his mana, but he ended up screaming from the burning wrath of her power. She then dragged them out to the training field, where the rest of the War Rats were whipping each other by turns. After tying them to makeshift poles, she started whipping them herself.

During the time of morning training, Fia whipped each soldier ten times. She then forced them to form pairs and whip each other until they collapsed. After everyone fell onto the ground, she was finally satisfied. She called for the castle’s healers and returned to her office.

When Fia found John in the room, she threw the report at John’s face. “Due to the soldiers being too drunk, we will cancel training today, ” she said. “You have created quite a suicide squad here.”

John rubbed his cheeks, not knowing how to explain the situation. “They’ll feel better tomorrow,” he laughed awkwardly. “Before every battle, I let them play as much as they want. Although they did steal my favorite liquor.”

Fia frowned deeply. “We are marching tomorrow. To battle,” she reminded him.

John nodded, clearly unfazed. “Yep.”

“The healers can mend physical wounds,” Fia said, “But they cannot do anything about mental ones. Are you telling me to believe that these ‘soldiers’ will be alright?”

John shrugged. “I don’t need subordinates who can’t last three cups.”

“Damn alcoholics,” Fia sighed. “No wonder the War Rats seem to worship you.”

“With all due respect, you were also a War Rat.”

Fia chuckled. “I am not like them,” she said. “Many of my comrades would give up their lives to steal one more copper coin. I, on the other hand, starved and waited for them to die. I looted their corpses to obtain more spoils.”

John narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying?” he asked.

Fia crossed her arms and stared. “People didn’t join the War Rats to steal from the battlefield. They joined the War Rats to steal from other War Rats. Weak, divisive, and easy to manipulate. The perfect prey, aren’t we?”

John’s face started to harden. He realized something was wrong.

“Don’t lie to me, John. This is their first war as soldiers. The fact that you haven’t gotten rid of their fatalistic attitude tells me they are disposable. Now then, what is your real plan? What does Erise want?”

“...”

Fia smiled bitterly. “Silent till the end. I hope you rot in Shade, filthy dog.”

---

A few days away from the city of Tiw, two armies marched side by side. One held a flag with three bolts of lightning, representing Thur’si. The other possessed a flag with a wolf, representing Tyr. In the front, the two Kings rushed their mounts to reach their destination.

The King of Thur’si was called Levias.

The King of Tyr was called Simon.

One fifty and the other thirty years old, the men were once relatives of Erise’s fiancee.

Their eyes dripped blood and hatred. They would not end with merely killing the Queen. If the two won the war, countless more lives would be lost.

It was evening, and then morning.

Two days until the coronation ceremony.