"What!? What army?"

"From the insignia it must be Eirinn's western army. They have already attacked Todlen, and within half an hour at the latest they will reach the fort!"

"Curse! Sound the alarm, battle stations! Get all the civilians out and take them to Hemlin!"

At first Natuli thought that the best thing to do was to join the fleeing civilians and take advantage of the opportunity to disappear, only to then realize that this could be a good opportunity to show off.

She didn't really want to risk her life in a war she didn't care about, but the sooner and better she completed her mission, the quicker she would be able to return home.

"Damn. What a pain in the ass." she grumbled, going to hide under a cloth while everyone else ran away.

In the meantime, the enemy army had made its appearance and was taking up positions a few hundred meters from the fort.

At a rough estimate there must have been a thousand at most, with very little cavalry and the majority of his forces made up of light infantry, ideal for a rapid assault; they also had ladders and ropes with them, but no siege weapons, almost as if they didn't expect to have to work hard to take the fortress.

"Shall we use cannons, commander?" asked one of Septimus' subordinates

"We can't. The foundations have not yet been sufficiently strengthened, and the walls would crumble at the first blow."

Daemon had mentioned a new weapon capable of replacing bows and crossbows in ranged combat, but since it was not ready yet, there was no choice but to resort to the old methods.

"Archers and crossbowmen, ready to shoot! And wait for my order!"

On the opposite side, General Lefde took a few moments to observe the fort, noting without a certain admiration how the rebels had done an excellent job in putting it back together.

He had the look and attitude of someone who didn't want to be there, aware of how his actions were destined to have irreparable consequences.

But he was a soldier of Eirinn, and he had sworn an oath he could not back away from.

Sadly, he nodded to his deputy.

"Front line, advance!" and about a third of the army went on the attack.

The way Erthea's armies fought differed greatly from country to country.

The imperial legions gave great importance to discipline and the use of large, tight formations, in which they fought shoulder to shoulder.

Eirinn's army, in addition to preferring pikes, large swords and solid plate armor to imperial shields and short spears, had a much more individualistic approach, in which they supported each other but each soldier practically had look after himself.

Such an approach did not make the archers' work easy, and the arrows often went amiss, falling between one enemy and another without hitting anyone.

Septimus waited until the enemies were very close, then gave the order to fire and the battle officially began.

Those carrying ladders and ropes were targeted first and fell in large numbers, and although others took their place, the defenders managed at first to keep the walls inviolate.

The enemies obviously also had archers, very good ones at that, who with each hail of arrows managed to eliminate one or two soldiers of the Free State, so that after a few minutes Eirinn's army began to gain ground, despite paying dearly for every meter they conquered.

Natuli could keep an eye on the progress of the battle quite well from her hiding place, and she took the opportunity to get an idea of the capabilities of both armies.

"Amateurs." was all she could say

Then, once she decided she had seen enough, she took action.

Agile and fast as a cat she darted past Septimus and his men without them almost noticing her, took the bow from one of them and pierced three enemy soldiers in the forehead before even touching the ground after jumping off the walls.

Once outside she picked up an officer's horse and a dagger from a dead soldier, starting to go up and down the battlefield claiming victims like a true goddess of war, with such skill and agility that Eirinn's soldiers could not hinder her in any way.

"But who is she?" asked one of Septimus' men

"I have no idea, but this is our chance! Soldiers, start shooting again! And be careful not to hit that elf!"

The battle then became even more chaotic, with the defenders shooting arrows repeatedly and the attackers more worried about dealing with Natuli than continuing their assault on the fortress.

The same Natuli found herself at one point in a complicated situation, since her movements were so lightning-fast and unpredictable that Septimus' men found it difficult to shoot without risking hitting her.

After a few minutes the assault inevitably lost momentum, and in such chaos not a single ladder reached the walls of Grote Muren.

"That's enough. Sound the retreat."

"But General, we still have many men."

"This was just a test, Abel. A way to test their strength. Now we know that they should not be underestimated, and certainly a few thousand men will not be enough to defeat this army. Do as I say and let's go home."

"Yes, General."

At the sound of the horn the attackers began to fall back in an orderly manner towards their companions, and in order not to exasperate the situation both Septimus and Natuli decided to let them go without attacking or trying to chase them.

Then, once they had left, absolute quiet reigned again, broken only by the cawing of the crows who immediately began to feast on the fallen.

Everyone knew what that attack, however fleeting and not too dramatic, had meant.

Peace was already over.

"So?" said Natuli, riding up to the walls. "Now will you allow me to enter or no?"



Although the Empire strove to maintain an aura of civilization by sweeping dust under the carpet, many knew that ghetto riots actually happened more often than previously thought.

And from this point of view, the large ghetto of the coastal region of Gadra, which provided almost all of the slaves employed on board the military and civilian fleets of the Empire, was one of the most problematic.

Every slave had his value; training a good oarsman or a qualified sailor took time, and in these cases using drastic systems to impose discipline was hardly seen as a good idea. The slaves knew this, and so it often happened that they raised their heads to ask for better food rations, a few fewer hours of work or the possibility of spending more time on the ground.

Usually in these cases a dialogue was attempted to avoid unnecessary deaths, but the events of Ende had changed everything, and the orders from above had changed. Order in the ghettos had to be maintained by all means, because the last thing the Emperor wanted was for anyone to think of following the example of the Free State.

And in these cases there was something worse than having to face the imperial army.

They called them the Vanlian Furies, after the remote northern region from which they came.

Relentless.

Unstoppable.

It was said that the sound of their hooves was the last thing you would hear in your life if you found them against you.

Officially they were not part of the army, but in practice they were its mavericks; the hounds who did the Emperor's dirty work.

Their speed allowed them to get anywhere in a short time, and for this reason they were always on the move, ready to go wherever they were ordered.

Suppressing revolts, assisting regular troops in some nameless battle, or dealing with brigands and smugglers who littered the most important roads of the Empire were their main tasks.

They were only a few hundred, but they were worth more than an entire army.

The unit existed since times that were lost in the pages of history, and since its establishment it had always been guided by the same family. For about five years, two sisters had been in command of the Furies, the elder Athreia, a swordsman with few equals, and the younger Medea, a masterful archer.

Their second in command was the old Stavros, a veteran of the unit and a long-time friend of their late father, who loved those two girls like his daughters and constantly watched over them.

And Stavros had plenty of reasons to worry.

Because Medea, but above all Atrheia were the worthy daughters of their father, and they didn't even think about staying safe in the rear while their companions risked their lives in battle.

Just like that night.

Two weeks earlier the slaves had taken possession of some weapons, had chased away the guards and raised the chains that blocked access to the internal bay around which the camp stood.

After the small local garrison had unsuccessfully attempted to suppress the revolt in an assault that had led to nothing, the decision was made to wait, since it was believed that without supplies and in excess of numbers the rebels would soon surrender.

But the days had passed without any sign of surrender, and now there was little left before the sea currents would begin to flow in the opposite direction, closing the doors to the southern routes for the merchant fleets for the next three months.

The rebel slaves were aware of this, and they were sure that like other times the merchants would put pressure on the governor to resolve the issue in order not to lose their earnings.

But this time it was different.

The governor and his general Ottone were no longer willing to accept this situation.

And to make sure that the matter was resolved quickly and definitively without endangering their men, they had directly requested the Emperor to send the Furies to the scene.

Although they were not very comfortable fighting at night, as soon as they arrived on site they immediately launched themselves against the ghetto with the strength and impetus of an unstoppable avalanche, so as to catch the rebels unprepared and defeat them even more easily.

Suffering one of their galloping charges meant being sure of never seeing another day; the earth trembled as they passed, and their battle-hardened bodies seemed invulnerable to arrows or spears.

As always, Medea and her sister Athreia led the charge, the former shooting arrows as long as javelins that pierced up to four enemies in a single shot, the latter delivering blows so precise that she disarmed and immobilized her opponents without even having to kill them.

The Vanlian Furies did in twenty minutes what two thousand men of the imperial army had failed to do in fifteen days, and before dawn the revolt was quelled.

"Sister, are you okay?" said Medea, seeing a trickle of blood flow from a wound on Athreia's back, dyeing her elegant hazel fur red.

"It's just a scratch. One of them grazed me with his spear."

"You should be less reckless. I and the others struggled to keep up with you."

"I'm certainly not going to die from something like that."

"I'm serious, sister. I know you want to set an example, but sooner or later you could get seriously hurt."

Athreia placed a hand on her head.

"And to think that between the two I should be the one who is always worried. I'm the big sister after all."

"Stop it, come on. I'm not a child." Medea tried to protest, but was betrayed by her furiously waving tail.

This sincere demonstration of sisterly love had to be interrupted by the arrival of General Ottone, who obviously had waited until the last moment before appearing.

"So then? Have you solved it?"

"The rebellion is quelled, the slaves have surrendered.» Athreia said

"Perfect, then your task here is finished. Now we'll take care of it."

"According to the orders received from the Emperor we have kept the casualties to the bare minimum."

"Those were your orders, not mine. I've had far too much patience with these parasites." then the general turned to two of his officers. "Find the leaders of the revolt and cut off their foot if they are rowers, or their nose and ears if they are sailors. Then bring me three beasts taken at random for each of them, and order them to choose one to be executed. This will make them stop wanting to raise their heads again."

"Wait, this is too brutal!"

"Medea! But my sister is right, there's no need to be so drastic."

"We've had five riots in three years, that's enough! The Emperor has made it clear that things like Eirinn's must never happen again, and I have every intention of respecting his will. As for you, you can leave right now."

Medea, who didn't have her sister's self-control, was almost on the verge of responding to that stuffed shirt of a General, but Athreia quickly stopped her and convinced her to come away with her before she could do something stupid.

"Why did you do it, sister?"

"Our task was only to suppress the revolt. Restoring order within the ghetto is not our responsibility."

"But those people..."

"We are soldiers, Medea. We can only obey orders."

At that moment old Stravos reached them holding the ax still covered in blood.

"Are there any injuries?" Athreia asked

"Nothing serious. A few scratches, and Zagan will probably lose an eye. However, a messenger has just arrived. Apparently the Empire still needs us."

"Where should we go?"

"To Eirinn."

Athreia sighed: somehow she was sure it would happen sooner or later.

"For tonight we will rest on the prairie nearby. And tomorrow morning at dawn we will leave."

"Yes ma'am."

At that point, the three centaurs headed back to their companions, trying to ignore the heartbreaking screams that began to rise behind them, piercing the darkness of the night.