Thousands of people readying to march is an incredible sight. A noisy one as well. Despite Alana’s inevitable rise to greatness, she is still a mere acolyte, an average caster, and a novice commander on her first campaign. That means she doesn’t have the prestige to be in the front and lacks the experience for the others to trust her with protecting the rear. Therefore, we’re stuck in the middle of the formation to leave the fort.

The armies of Victory are strange beasts. Inherently, they are pack animals, working together to hunt down their prey, namely the hordes of monsters beyond the Peaks. They move together for safety but, once deep in hostile territory, they transform into solitary animals.

Large groups attract large enemies. Titans dwell beyond the mountains. Creatures so big and so strong, hundreds of knights need to work together to bring them down. Thousands of knights marching together can draw several of them. A death sentence. If the armies separate, the titans disperse, each moving to secure their own prey.

So, while each army will eventually do its own thing, for now, we are one entity. We are not the head or the tail of this beast, so we have very little freedom. At least having secured a portion of Zach’s resources during the March, we have beasts to pull our wagons. Just enough now that we’re leaving behind our building supplies, only dragging along the booze, the food, and a few empty wagons for the spoils of war.

Which is more than expected. My original goal upon coming here was to auction Howie’s magical brews to the hunters that would no doubt be eager for their profound effects. That did not go as planned.

For one, the hunters are too frightened of me to buy anything I have for sell. They can’t even look me in the eye, straightening their spines when I pass like young lords before a stern patriarch. The only exception is the Steelskins. The big, brawny frontliners are unfazed by my reputation and bought several barrels of Shroom Inferno as originally requested. It’s too bad that they are already pledged to march with the Devil, that sly bastard. Zach has taken charge of the hunters but they have a separate contract with the Bleak Moons.

Another reason I am marching into the north with more supplies than I originally expected is due to the March. As the favored heir and a seasoned commander, Zach’s resources are not small. The north has its own alternatives to magical shroom juice and plenty of travel rations. Enough to fill four wagons. With my own stock and supplementing with monster meat, I have enough to keep our modest army fed and warm for a year, let alone a single winter.

A hassle to organize but Alana seems perfectly content handling things. She’s wearing the dark blue armor of the Bleak Moons and the distinctive wolf helm. I can’t make out her features but she seems full of energy as she pulls aside people to ask on their progress and confirm their positions.

Bell follows on her heels. That’s her job until we get back to safety. Since she isn’t building an unassailable outpost, all that power is going to keep Alana alive and advise her during her first command.

Me? I’m sprawled on the driver bench of one of the wagons, making myself useful by keeping out of the way. Kierra is beside me, armed to the teeth and full of excitement. It’s hard to tell because of the way she’s lounging, head in my lap and feet up. The truth is in the large chest of weapons under the driver’s bench. She used her sway over Kalise to raid the duke’s personal armory. She brought a sword. I’ve never seen her wield a sword.

On my other side is Geneva, where I can keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not getting up to any dastardly schemes. One would normally think this wouldn’t be the time for such things. With her, there’s always time for a plot or two.

Rolly is hanging about somewhere, I’m sure. I tend not to keep a strict eye on the lueorale. Both because it would take a whole lot of effort and because it would make the small creature unhappy. She seems to enjoy her freedoms. Me being too constraining was one of her biggest sticking points while forming our contract. She always shows up when it’s important so I leave her to it. Once this campaign is over, she’ll have plenty to do.

That leaves the last of the elementals, the shuba. Poor creature is camped in Alana’s room with orders to remain incorporeal and completely still until our return. I wouldn’t risk the campaign by introducing the shuba. While it would not doubt multiply like mad with all the negative energy that is sure to be in abundance soon, it could also get people killed. So, the shuba stays home.

“Lo there, captain.”

I cast my gaze to the side as Arthur sidles up to my wagon, from Kierra’s side. I wonder if he purposely approached opposite of Geneva. Wouldn’t put it past him. For good reason, he is very uncomfortable around my succubus. He won’t even look at me to avoid seeing her. “Arthur. Have you been doing your job?”

“Spying on my fellows and fishing out discontent, aye. The general feeling is pretty good. People are nervous. The excitement of the ass-kicking you handed out is fading in the face of death. A strong showing at the start should keep them in line when it’s time for the armies to go their separate ways.”

“They’ll get that.” If Kierra has anything to say about it. “Anything interesting?”

“Depends on what you find interesting. There’s this Polluck guy who’s joined with his son or something. They seem to be a big deal.”

What the saints is Plucky and Plucky Two doing here? Don’t tell me that bastard is still trying to push Alana and that walking monument to saintly virtues together. It’s the only reason I can imagine a knight of his standing joining a small army run by a first-time commander, no matter her last name. Alana certainly didn’t invite him. She proposed inviting members of the different orders but her father handled the selection. “Anything else?”

“Someone I didn’t expect to see. The annoying kid from the qualifiers. Heard a few of the others calling him Quinn or something. He’s been asking questions about you and the March. A lot of questions. And he still has that look in his eye I don’t like.”

Ah. The name doesn’t ring a bell but the description does. So, Mr. Talented is also here. This is a great opportunity to make an annoyance disappear, isn’t it?

No, I shouldn’t do that. I am the most talented person in this kingdom…and I have no intention of using any of that talent for the betterment of Harvest. The least I can do is not deprive them of the second-most talented person.

“Is he planning on messing this up?” Because if he is, he can forget any mercy.

“Don’t think so. The boy seems to think well of the golden girl. He’s even fine with the e—with the madam.” He clears his throat as Kierra glances at him. “His only problem is with you. Obsessively. If he didn’t reek of anger, I’d think he was in love.”

A shiver of disgust runs down my spine at the mere thought. “Keep an eye on him. Let me know—wait.” It occurs to me that making an annoyance disappear doesn’t have to mean making the annoying young man disappear. Arthur used to be the quite the annoyance himself. Someone helped him. It required a lot of time, magic, and pain, but he’s shaping up to be a great man, if a little ruthlessly practical.

Maybe someone can help the future hero. Before he does something that forces me to take him seriously.

“Better idea. Find out what his problem is with me. Then solve it.”

The look he gives me is part-dread, part-exasperation. “How exactly am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know. Use your imagination. Look, tell me why he keeps trying to kill himself through provoking me and I’ll see if I can help you preserve his life.”

“…you’re the boss.”

A loud horn sounds. Alana comes jogging up to the wagon. “Arthur.”

“Hey, commander. Captain. I’ll get started on that stuff you asked.”

The pirate makes a quick escape. Alana watches his back as he joins the hunters. “Something I need to worry about?”

“Him? Not at all. Arthur’s a different man these days.” The horn sounds again. “I’m guessing that’s the signal to go?”

“Yes. The armies are moving.” She lets out a deep breath. “Last chance to turn back.”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“It is.” She slaps the side of the wagon. “I hope you’re ready, Lou. Because I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. Don’t fall asleep, Kii.”

“I will be ready, little flower,” the elf mutters.

“Not a flower,” she calls over her shoulder as she jogs to the head of our army. The horn blares a third time. The gate is opened and the forces of Victory move.

I’d be lying if I said my heart isn’t pounding a little harder.