Blood drips—from my head, down my arms, and onto the ground. I don’t have time to just stand here staring at my blood. I have to keep fighting. She mustn't get away. Especially not now. She has to pay for what she’s done—both today and in the past.

I rush toward her, sword in my right hand, ready to tear her apart.

I charge at her, but she anticipates my moves faster than I expected. She uses her sword to parry mine. I try a different approach and strike at a new opening, but I’m an open book to her. I’m powerless—forced to retreat and let Irmis do all the work.

The only sounds I hear are the clash of swords and the roars of both Lanora and Irmis. It’s ringing in my ears, and I have almost nothing left in me. She still isn’t unconscious. Why isn’t this going according to plan? Why is it failing?

I keep pushing my body past its limits. We need to knock her unconscious so we can take her to the prison.

Irmis tries to strike her from the side. Lanora tears the sword from Irmis’s grip. The witch flings it across the ground—sending it far further than any human could.

I can feel my body about to give out.

The witch clearly sees it; she kicks me down. She strikes me right in the stomach, and I hit the ground hard. The breath is knocked out of me.

I scramble backward. My hand lands in the sand; I grab a handful and throw it in Lanora’s face. It makes no difference. I look at Irmis, and she has found a stone. Lanora is getting closer and closer to me. I can’t do a thing, and I hate it.

“Are you ready to die, little general?” Lanora says, towering over me.

“I’m not dying,” I say. “I refuse.”

Lanora laughs—that evil witch’s laugh they all have. It sounds horrible.

Lanora is so focused on me that she doesn’t notice Irmis creeping up behind her. She thought she could stop her just by knocking her sword away, but she underestimated us.

Irmis leaps up and slams the stone down onto Lanora’s head. Lanora collapses to the ground in front of me. Her head is bleeding from the blow.

Irmis looks at me with concern.

“Can you get back on your feet?” she asks.

“Yes.” I stand up with Irmis’s help.

“Let’s get this witch to where she belongs.”

She lifts Lanora’s unconscious body and carries both herself and the witch all the way across the heath to our horses. She places Lanora on her horse. My horse stands nearby.

We both mount our horses and begin riding toward the castle.

“Do you have a headache, Talko?” She looks at my wounds.

“What have I said about using my first name, Private Solka?” I say firmly, looking at her. “Use ‘General’.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies with a sigh. She leans back in the saddle, pouting—an expression I’m often the cause of.

She has trained with me for a long time, but that doesn’t mean she should start speaking to me like a friend while we’re on military duty. She is a warrior, yet when we aren’t in battle, one wonders if she takes anything in the world seriously.

The ride back to Shlaruk was long and quiet. It was quite a struggle dealing with Lanora today. The infamous witch is truly something else when it comes to combat. But she’s something else entirely when it comes to potions. Fortunately, she was a bit foolish today.

We had received word from Shlaruk’s soldiers about a witch who was stealing people’s herbs. After luring Lanora away from the village itself, we launched our attack. She knew who I was and came at me with an extra intensity. I hadn’t realized she could do so much without magic. This isn’t the first time we’ve met and fought with each other. But you never know with witches; they can be absolute beasts.

We ride through the Halvrich Forest. The forest floor is carpeted with grass and flowers of every color, and the trees tower high, reaching up to the level of the highest turret. After a while, we return to the city of Shlaruk.

Irmis and I ride to the prison first to secure Lanora’s place down there. Irmis throws her inside and shuts the doors. There is a small window for looking in at her and a small opening in the door so she can be fed.

After locking her up, we make a quick trip to the healer.

The healer said I need to take it easy for a while before I can fight again.

Three moons pass before I am able to fight again.

My sword strikes the side of the dummy’s head.

“This is one of the hardest areas to guard in combat!” I tell the soldiers. They all listen intently as they practice with their own dummies. “So today, we are going to learn how to guard that spot and how best to strike it on an opponent. Is that understood?”

“Yes, General!” all my soldiers shout in unison.

The training continues, and my soldiers throw themselves into it, just as they always do. It starts to rain, but that doesn't stop us; we need to be able to fight in any weather. The rain soaks their clothes and hair, making everything heavier.

The rain intensifies, sending runnels of water running across the stones of the courtyard. The soldiers’ breathing deepens. No one complains; they know you cannot wait to engage in battle simply because the weather is poor.

"Hold your shields higher!" I shout. "You can't see much in the rain, but neither can your enemy. Use that to your advantage."

Irmis immediately adjusts her stance, showing the others how it’s done. She is quick to learn new things and even quicker to correct her mistakes. The younger soldiers follow her lead; she has always been reliable in both training and combat.

"Do it like this," I say. "Don't rely solely on your eyes. Listen for the sound of your opponent's footsteps. Feel the movement through the ground beneath your feet."

I walk among the ranks, adjusting their grip on their swords. My head still aches a little, but I am used to pain; when you have carried a sword for many years, you learn to live with a bit of discomfort.

Suddenly, a horn sounds from the castle wall—one long blast, followed by another. Everyone stops at once.

It is not the signal for battle; it is the signal announcing the arrival of a messenger.

The soldiers look at me inquiringly.

"Continue the training," I order. "Private Irmis, you are in command until I return."

"Yes, General," she says. There is a distinct note of sarcasm in her voice, echoing the last time we spoke about observing proper etiquette.

I hurry through the rain toward the castle gate. Two guards open it, and a drenched rider enters the courtyard. His horse is caked in mud, and the animal is trembling with exhaustion.

The rider dismounts and nearly collapses to his knees.

"General Sylruk!" he gasps.

"Report," I say.

He hands me a rolled-up letter.

"We’ve received word about Lanora; she has vanished completely," he says.

My grip on the letter tightens.

"Lanora?" I ask.

He nods.

“None of the troops in Shlaruk can find her,” he says.

My heart is pounding so hard I think it might explode from anger and fear.

"She woke from her forced slumber, and a day later, the cell was empty. Three guards are dead,” he tells me. “Since breaking free, she’s been seen only by the guards and a few villagers.”

For a moment, everything goes quiet. Even the rain sounds distant.

I knew Lanora was fast, but I never imagined she could escape our troops so quickly.

I open the letter. The paper is stained with rainwater, but one sentence still stands out clearly:

‘If Tolka Sylruk is reading this letter, then she already knows I’m coming for her.’

I feel a chill spread through my body—one that no rainstorm could explain.

I nod and signal for him to warn Their Majesties about the situation.

My feet splash against the wet path leading to the courtyard. We need to train more, and it has to be grueling. We must be able to withstand another attack—one where she might be stronger than before.

Irmis comes running toward me, a worried look in her eyes.

“What did the messenger say?” She places a hand on my shoulder.

“She’s gone,” I say, my breathing heavy from the run.

“Who?”

“Lanora—she’s gone.” My voice trembles slightly.

“What?” She looks at me in despair. “How could this happen?”

“I don’t know.” I look straight at her. “But she’s coming for me.”

Irmis and I discuss a plan. We know she lives near Halvrich Forest. The battle is set for tomorrow. Many villagers have seen her walking there while out on their own morning strolls.

I spend the ride reciting facts about witches and their potions, trying to determine if I’ll be able to read her better in combat. There are telltale signs to look for if she has consumed any enhancement potions. But if we catch her at a time like her dawn walk, we have a good chance of finding her off guard. She sent that letter and surely knows I’m planning something. She thinks I’ll ride out alone, just as I’ve always done.

The next morning, all the troops are ready for the attack. We have our best archers with us.

I had formed a clear idea of ​​where in the forest a battle would best play out.

We are all hiding behind bushes and in small hollows in the ground. The archers are concealed in the trees, giving them a better vantage point.

Now we wait. I make a racket, shouting her name. I am the bait—yes—but I have to do it. I’m the one she’s after.

I can hear someone approaching. It is the sound of heavy heels striking the forest floor.

It’s her.

I signal for everyone to get ready, but I hold off on the order to attack until I can see if she is showing any symptoms of the elixir. I see nothing. I wait until she is right in the middle of our positions before giving the signal.

Arrows strike her—first one in the arm, then one in the leg. Everyone leaps forward. Our shouts ring out in time with our blows. This time, we aren't just capturing her; we are going to kill her.

She has done plenty of things besides stealing in the past, but now she has killed innocent people after she escaped.

Now, she will finally pay the price.

I won't let her get away this time. Not when we are so close.

She dodges our arrows quickly now, but she cannot escape the sword strikes. She is being slashed all over. I land a blow on her left shoulder. She screams and wails.

She turns to avoid some of the swords. Big mistake.

I strike her right where her heart lies. I drive the blade deep into her back to ensure her life disappears with her screams.

She lets out one of the most terrifying screams I have ever heard.

Her blood forms a pool around her.

She lies completely lifeless on the forest floor. We cheer in unison and jump around her.

Irmis runs over to me and hugs me tightly.

“You really are the bravest woman I know,” she says.

I hug her back, even though it’s against protocol. I can feel tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.

“We—all of us—did it together,” I say, feeling the truth of it. “No victory without you.”

She is finally gone.

We hold a big party at military headquarters, where we drink and celebrate our victory over Lanora.

“A toast to the victory over Lanora!” Irmis shouts, raising her beer mug high.

“CHEERS!” everyone shouts in unison.

The celebration continues with laughter, games, and drinking contests.

“You’ve earned a greater title than just general,” Irmis says, draping her arm over my shoulders.

“Is there even anything higher?” I ask.

“Of course,” she says, leaning in toward me. “There is a title like generalissimo.”

I raise an eyebrow and laugh.

“Are you sure that actually exists?” I ask.

“Not entirely,” she replies. “But you deserve it, real or not.”

“To Tolka Sylruk!” Irmis suddenly shouts. “And her brave spirit!”

We raise our glasses and enjoy the rest of the evening.