Chapter 404: The One-Armed Knight
Demon Territory – Northern Border Outpost
The war room was bathed in the dim, crimson glow of enchanted braziers, their flames casting long, dancing shadows across the stone walls. A large map of the region was spread across the central table, marked with small flags and pins indicating troop movements, supply lines, and key positions.
At the head of the table sat a figure of striking beauty and quiet menace. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and her hair was cut short, a cascade of silver-white that framed a face of sharp, elegant features. Two curved horns spiraled from her temples, their surfaces gleaming like polished obsidian, and her ears tapered to elegant, pointed tips. Her eyes, a deep, piercing violet, were fixed on the map with an intensity that made the air around her feel heavy.
She wore practical, form-fitting armor, dark leather reinforced with metal plates that caught the brazier’s light. A short sword rested at her hip, its hilt worn smooth from years of use, and a small, ornate dagger was tucked into her boot.
Commander Celine.
Her fingers drummed against the table’s edge, a slow, rhythmic beat that betrayed her impatience. Her voice, when it came, was low and controlled, but carried an edge of sharp authority.
"Still no word from Greg’s unit?"
Her subordinate, a tall, wiry demon with sharp features and a nervous twitch in his left eye, stepped forward. His voice was measured, careful, as if each word had to be weighed before it was spoken.
"Nothing yet, Commander. Their last report was sent three hours ago. They were preparing to engage a Solarian supply outpost. Since then, silence."
Celine’s fingers stilled. Her violet eyes narrowed, a cold, sharp gleam passing through them. Her voice dropped, carrying the weight of grim certainty.
"Three hours is too long. Something has happened. Either they’ve been delayed, or..." She paused, her jaw tightening. "...they’ve been eliminated."
The subordinate’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of unease crossing his features. His voice carried a note of cautious optimism, though it was undercut by the tremor in his words.
"Commander, that seems unlikely. Greg is a capable leader. And Siva’s telekinetic abilities are formidable. They could have been held up by unexpected resistance, but defeated? I find it hard to believe."
Celine’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her voice was cold, absolute.
"Believe it. I sent them to strike a Solarian supply outpost. If they were successful, they would have reported their victory by now. The fact that we’ve heard nothing means either they failed, or they were intercepted. And in either case, Greg’s unit has met its end."
The subordinate’s throat bobbed. His voice came out quieter, still uncertain.
"Commander, we don’t know that for certain. There could be any number of reasons for the delay. Perhaps they encountered more resistance than expected and are still fighting. Perhaps their communication equipment was damaged in the assault. It’s too early to assume the worst."
Celine let out a slow, measured breath. Her voice shifted, becoming almost weary, as if she had been forced to explain herself too many times.
"You’re right that it’s too early to be certain. But it’s never too early to prepare for the worst." She straightened, her violet eyes sweeping the map with renewed focus. "Send a scout to investigate. Quietly. I want to know what happened to Greg’s unit. And I want to know if we’re dealing with a new threat."
Her gaze drifted to a dark, jagged region on the map—the northern border, where the demon territory met the war-torn lands of Solaria.
"Because if someone was able to eliminate Greg and Siva without leaving a trace, then we’re facing something far more dangerous than a simple supply raid."
The war room’s heavy doors swung open with a groan of aged iron, and a squad of soldiers filed in. At their head walked a figure whose presence commanded immediate attention, even among the demon officers.
One of Celine’s subordinates stepped forward, his spear already half-raised, his voice sharp with indignation.
"You have no authority to enter unannounced! This is a war council—state your purpose or leave!"
Celine raised a hand, cutting him off with a sharp, commanding gesture.
"Stand down. They are our allies now. Show them the respect they are owed."
The subordinate hesitated, his spear lowering slowly, though his eyes remained fixed on the newcomers with barely concealed suspicion.
The lead figure reached up with her remaining hand—her right arm was gone, severed at the shoulder, the empty sleeve pinned neatly to her uniform. She lifted her helm and let it fall to her side, revealing a face etched with the weight of responsibility and loss.
Seraphina.
Her pale blue eyes swept the room, taking in the map, the markers, the demon officers. Her voice, when it came, was cold and measured, carrying the weight of someone who had been through too much to be impressed by theatrics.
"I was not informed that Melium’s allies were planning a strike against the Solarian outpost near Kaelthar."
Celine’s violet eyes narrowed slightly, a faint, calculating smile crossing her features. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepling before her.
"We did not inform you because we did not want to burden you with unnecessary details. But yes, we struck the Solarian supply outpost. It is part of our broader strategy to prevent Solaria from establishing a foothold in Kaelthar. You understand the importance of that, do you not?"
Seraphina’s jaw tightened. Her voice carried a sharp edge, cutting through Celine’s casual dismissal.
"You cannot simply launch an attack without consulting your allies. This is precisely the kind of reckless action that will escalate the conflict—not contain it. Solaria will respond, and when they do, it will not just be demons who suffer the consequences."
Celine’s smile didn’t waver. Her voice remained calm, but there was a cold edge beneath it.
"Kaelthar is a strategic choke point. If Solaria secures it, they will control the northern trade routes and be able to cut off our supply lines. We cannot afford to let that happen. I acted preemptively—a calculated risk that will pay off in the long run."
Her gaze dropped to Seraphina’s empty sleeve, and her smile sharpened.
"Besides, you, of all people, should understand the value of decisive action. After all, it was a lack of it that cost you your arm, wasn’t it?"
The room fell silent. Seraphina’s pale blue eyes blazed with cold fury, but her voice, when it came, was steady, controlled.
"That was a tactical decision, not a failure. I chose to protect my princess. I would make the same choice again. And you would do well to remember that before you speak of things you do not understand."
Celine’s smile didn’t waver. She inclined her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment that held no warmth.
"Forgive me. I did not mean to offend. I merely wished to point out that we all make sacrifices in war—and that sometimes, the boldest choices are the ones that save the most lives." Her gaze drifted back to the map. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a war to plan."
Seraphina’s pale blue eyes remained fixed on Celine, unwavering despite the demon commander’s cold, measured words. Her voice, when it came, was sharp as a blade, cutting through the tension with surgical precision.
"I could withdraw my forces from this alliance entirely. Melium’s presence here is not to serve demon ambitions—it is to ensure Kaelthar does not fall into hostile hands. That includes yours, Commander. If you continue to act without consulting us, we have no reason to remain."
Celine’s violet eyes narrowed. For a moment, the cold amusement in her gaze flickered, replaced by sharper calculation. Then her lips curved into a thin, almost respectful smile.
"Hmm... so the one-armed knight still has fangs after all."
She leaned back in her chair, her fingers drumming once against the table before she spoke again.
"Very well. I will not launch another strike without notifying you first. Consider this a gesture of good faith—one I expect you to reciprocate."
Seraphina held her gaze for a long moment, then gave a single, sharp nod.
"That is all I ask."
She turned, gesturing for her soldiers to follow, and strode out of the war room without another word. The heavy doors groaned shut behind them, leaving the demon officers in silence.
One of Celine’s subordinates stepped forward, his voice tight with barely contained indignation.
"Commander, that human dares to threaten us? We should not let such insolence—"
Celine raised a hand, silencing him instantly. Her voice was calm, almost amused.
"Calm yourself. Let the humans posture all they like. In the end, it is we who will claim victory. Their pride will not save them when the time comes."
Her violet eyes drifted to the map, her fingers tracing the jagged lines of the northern border.
"Let them think they have the upper hand. It will make their fall all the more satisfying."