In the shadow of a large boulder, one among many identical ones dotting the landscape, a small burrow could be found. From the outside, it appeared to be nothing special. Even if someone passed the entrance, they would think nothing of it. Perhaps the den of some wild animal.
Yet a closer inspection would reveal that the narrow entrance soon opened into a much larger cave. Going deeper, winding through several bends, the passage would eventually open into an underground network.
The tunnels, which appeared to have been dug by the claws of a massive animal, grew more orderly and neat the farther one went. At last, the coarse walls became even, and the darkness was illuminated by torches and lanterns. What had been utterly untamed gradually turned into something resembling civilization.
To the left and right, rooms began to appear. There were no doors, only curtains draped over rectangular entrances, granting the inhabitants a measure of privacy.
A shaggy wolf padded through the corridor, its shadow swaying left and right under the flickering firelight. The sound of its paws against hard-packed earth and stone was the only noise in the tunnel.
It drew the attention of the men and women inhabiting the rooms. Curtains shifted slightly, and curious pairs of eyes glanced at the newcomer. Yet despite seeing that an animal had wandered into their space, no one acted. They merely watched, seemingly curious to see what it would do next.
The wolf paid them no mind. Its intelligent eyes never strayed from its target, the room at the very end of the tunnel.
And so, under their watchful gazes, it made its way to the final room. Instead of entering directly, it stopped before the entrance and sat back on its haunches. Nearly a minute passed in utter silence.
Then, at last, a voice came from within.
“Come in.”
The wolf, as if it had been waiting for that permission, slipped through the curtain.
The final room appeared to be a study, judging by the chaotic assortment of papers, books, maps, and notes. Once the table space had run out, the walls and even the ceiling had become a substitute. By now, nearly every surface in the room was plastered with paper.
At first glance, it looked like utter chaos. Yet to the man seated at the center of the room, it clearly held meaning. At this very moment, he was engrossed in reading through a stack of short reports laid out before him.
After each one, he paused to think, then added some form of annotation to one of the maps on the wall.
Only after finishing the entire stack did the man turn his attention to the wolf, which had been waiting patiently since entering.
He looked at the wolf with mild amusement, one eyebrow lifting. “Are you going to report like this?”
He spoke as if he fully expected the wolf to understand.
The wolf tilted its head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. Then it opened its maw. What emerged was not an animal’s growl, but words. They sounded strange, not so much an accent as the result of a throat never meant to form human speech. Even so, the meaning was clear.
“Apologies. Forgot.”
The man at the desk nodded, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
The wolf then stood on its hind legs, almost as if performing a trick. Before balance could become an issue, its body began to change. In less than a moment, it transformed into a human silhouette.
Where the wolf had stood just seconds before, a young woman now remained.
Still, there were several peculiarities about her. For one, not a shred of clothing covered her body. Instead, fur covered her sensitive regions. At first glance, it looked as though she were wearing sheer fur garments. A closer inspection, however, revealed that the fur grew directly from her body.
Her appearance resembled that of a beastkin. Yet the clean lines where fur transitioned to skin were far too deliberate to be natural. Not a single hair was out of place, and the contours of her apparent outfit were so precise that the illusion held even for someone who knew the truth.
The woman saluted lazily. “I’m back, cap’n.”
The man waved her off. “Enough, Layla. Tell me what you learned.”
She let the salute fall into an awkward scratch of her head. “Eya. No welcome back after such a long time. Not even a single tear. I’m truly hurt.”
The captain rolled his eyes. “...It’s barely been a week.”
Layla’s eyes widened. “It has? Felt like I’d been gone for a month.”
The captain’s expression softened slightly. “That’s normal. When you infiltrate deeply, every minute can feel like an hour. It’s the nerves.” He paused briefly before continuing. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re safe.”
Layla smiled faintly, but did not comment.
The captain cleared his throat, his expression turning serious once more. “Tell me what you learned.”
Layla nodded and pointed at the map. “As ordered, I infiltrated the camp in quadrant fifty-four. It wasn’t easy. No animal is tolerated anywhere near the campsite. Bunch of heartless bastards, I tell you. I saw them burn a deer kid on the spot. Wasn’t even one of ours, just a curious baby that—”
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“Layla,” the captain interrupted. “Stay on topic.”
Layla coughed and continued her report as if nothing had happened. “After determining that I could not go in that way, I tried impersonating one of the lower-level soldiers. No luck there either. They have strict… checks.” As she said this, she tapped her temple.
The captain nodded, already understanding.
The Legion was linked on a mental level. It did not matter how well Layla disguised herself or how perfectly she mimicked their mannerisms. As long as she was not connected to their mental command structure, she would be discovered almost immediately.
Still, something did not add up. If Layla had not been able to infiltrate the camp, then why had she been gone for so many days?
“What did you do?”
Layla smiled triumphantly. “I disguised myself as one of the freaks.”
At his questioning look, she raised her fingers like shears and mimed cutting off the tips of her ears. Ah. Those.
The captain had long since learned of the existence of the converted half-elves. They had appeared on the battlefield over the past few weeks, elevating the Legion’s combat prowess by yet another tier. It was one of the main reasons he had abandoned direct confrontations altogether.
“They are not linked?” he asked. That was news to him.
“They are,” Layla replied. “But not immediately. More arrive every day. It takes time before they are fully integrated. That was my opening.”
The captain’s expression hardened. “Risky.”
Layla nodded. For once, there was no mirth on her face. Good. It meant she had not underestimated the danger, but had taken the risk knowing exactly how dangerous it was. That was acceptable.
“…I had no choice,” she said after a moment. “Something big was happening. Something we needed to know about.”
The captain leaned forward. “Did you find out what?”
Layla frowned slightly. “A little. But not as much as I would have liked. You know how they are. Simply infiltrating their ranks does not mean you will learn much, no matter how deeply you dig.”
The captain nodded. He knew. Of course, he knew. Of all the forces on the continent, none was as resistant to espionage as the Empire.
Infiltrating them was difficult, yes. But that was only half the problem. The real headache came afterward. No notes. No maps. No documents. All plans, strategies, and tactics were kept inside the commander’s head. Nothing was ever written down.
As for the people?
A dead end.
Not even the leaders knew the broader plans. They did not need to. Anything from field commands to tactical decisions was revealed only at the moment it became necessary.
Even the nominal head of an entire legion could not tell you what they would be having for dinner that day.
They were soldiers. Muscle. Killing machines. Not tacticians or planners. It was the cleanest separation of roles imaginable.
For any organization that specialized in intelligence gathering, it was a complete nightmare.
Even so, Layla’s earlier words gave him hope. She had said she had learned a little, and knowing her, that meant she had uncovered something she considered valuable.
“What did you find out, and how much can we trust the source?”
Layla nodded confidently. “The source is solid. Hard facts, not rumors.”
The captain nodded. “So?”
Layla leaned in, her voice dropping. It was the posture of someone revealing a secret. Ridiculous, really. Strictly speaking, everything said in this room was already top secret.
“…The Legion is going to abandon several of its positions in the coming days.”
The captain looked down at the map. “Where exactly? Quadrant fifty-four?”
Layla leaned in even closer. “Here.” As she spoke, she drew a circle on the map.
The captain’s eyes widened. The area she indicated was enormous. The entire outer regions of the country. At least sixty percent of Rukia lay within that circle.
He stared at Layla in shock and disbelief. “That… how could that be?”
Layla shrugged. “I checked three different camps to confirm it. All of them are preparing to move. This isn’t a feint. As for the reason, I’ve heard some things, but those I can’t confirm.”
“Say it.”
Layla leaned back in her chair, collecting her thoughts before speaking.
“You know about Ezekiel von Hohenheim, right?”
The captain rolled his eyes. Who did not? A genius in magic, engineering, and business, now holding the title of Merchant Lord in Tradespire. Anyone unaware of that rising star had no business calling themselves a spy.
“Of course I know,” the captain said. “Arrived with a massive airship. For a while, it looked like he might make a splash, but then he lost at Strattlehold. Badly. Last I heard, he barely managed to retreat and has been licking his wounds ever since.”
It was a shame. If the boy had waited for the right moment, he could have coordinated with nearby allied forces and actually taken the fortress. Unfortunately, a tactical mind was not something that could be bought with money, and Ezekiel clearly lacked it.
Layla smiled. “It seems he’s been doing more than just licking his wounds.”
“Like what?”
Layla shrugged. “No idea. Neither does anyone else, from what I can tell. But he’s back now. Stronger. Meaner. From what the rumor mill says, he’s spooked the Legion. A lot of people think the retreat is because of him.”
The captain raised a brow. “The Legion is giving up this much land because of one boy? That seems far-fetched.”
Layla’s smile widened. “What if I told you he destroyed a mid-level camp in less than an hour?”
The captain’s expression hardened. “Where?”
Layla pointed at the map. The location lay in the northeast, close to the border. His eyes narrowed. That camp was no easy target. Two Archmages. Thousands of soldiers. Healer support. It did not fall short of any position in the outer regions.
The captain sank into deep thought.
If. And that was a big if. But if it were true, then the decision made sense. If the Hohenheim boy still had his flying fortress and had somehow found the strength to defeat a mid-level camp, then the Legion could forget about holding the outer regions.
They would just be throwing away their lives at that point.
“Tell me everything you know.”
Layla made a conflicted expression. “Honestly, not much. Every rumor is more exaggerated than the last. Some even claim Titans and Dragons descended and devoured the entire Legion.”
The captain rolled his eyes. “Just tell me the parts you think are most likely true.”
Layla nodded. “Most sources say the Archmages managed to escape with only light injuries. But I am fairly certain nobody else did.”
The captain frowned. “Nobody? Are you telling me that merchant boy slaughtered thousands?”
Layla’s expression remained serious. “If there were survivors, I haven’t met any. That’s also why the rumors are so vague. Aside from the two Archmages, nobody can confirm or deny anything. It’s a complete mystery.”
The captain fell silent.
His gaze drifted across the maps, reports, and plans covering the walls and ceiling. They were the result of weeks of work, of sleepless nights, blood, and sweat. But now…
If Layla’s information was correct, all of it was useless.
The timeline had been accelerated by months, perhaps even years.
The Legion was abandoning its positions and preparing to withdraw toward the center. With that, the very nature of the war had changed. A new phase of combat was about to begin.
The captain knew better than anyone what that meant.
The time for lone wolves was over. If they wanted to have any hope of breaching the inner regions, allies would have to unite. Even he could not escape this reality.
The time for acting as he pleased had passed. It was time to find trustworthy allies, or withdraw altogether from the war.