They don't know I'm watching.
From the high ridge above the bend, I observed them, tiny figures below. The Holy Alliance had shifted their encampment slightly to the west. Just a few tents. Just a few voices. But everything screamed panic.
My false report had worked.
"Move the troops north", I whispered into the silence beside me. "Make it seem like we're running."
Morgra nodded beside me, her eyes squinting. "Even rats don't scatter this fast."
"Exactly", I said.
Let them think they were winning. Let them believe we were afraid.
The best part of the plan wasn't the fake tunnel.
It was letting them believe they had figured it out on their own.
Later that night, I stood before my war table again. The candles flickered against the crude parchment and wooden pins. I moved a black pawn, our decoy army, further north. One touch, and the illusion became a reality in the minds of my enemies.
Behind me, Kael entered quietly.
"They fell for it", he said, holding a scrap of intercepted parchment. "They've reinforced the Ravenhill flank. Just like you wanted."
"They'll shift supplies next", I murmured, turning a red pin upside down. "When they do, we'll collapse their left side, shatter morale, and burn their escape."
Kael grunted. "You're not leaving any retreat for them?"
"No".
He hesitated. "…There will be survivors."
"I know", I said.
And I wanted them to live. I wanted them to return, trembling, whispering, spreading the myth of the Mourning Fox, the demon tactician who fights without mercy and plans without heart.
Outside the war tent, the moon was low, smudged like a fading bruise. The wind was sharp.
I found myself walking past the barracks. A soldier saw me and immediately stood straighter. He was young. Too young. Freckles on his face, fingers stained with ink. Probably a scribe or assistant.
"Lady Rin!" he saluted, nervous.
"At ease."
He hesitated, then stammered, "Ma'am, if I may, what do we do if they surrender?"
I looked at him. He reminded me of someone. A boy in the slums who once asked if heroes were allowed to lie.
"If they surrender", I said gently, "we give them mercy."
His eyes widened.
"…Mercy", I added, "is sometimes a quicker death."
And I walked away.
Back in my tent, I unfolded one of my teacher's old scrolls again.
"Your enemy is never just an army. It's their belief. Break that first."
So that's what I'd do next.
Not win a battle.
But break the belief that the Holy Alliance could ever win.
Kael remained behind again, as he had the past few nights.
"Something stirs", he said quietly.
"The humans?" I asked.
"No. You."
I paused.
"I remember the Rin who spoke in soft warnings", Kael said. "Now you speak like a sword."
"I became what they made me."
He nodded. "You're sharper now."
"…And more dangerous?"
"Yes."
He didn't say it with fear.
He said it like a general recognizing a weapon in human skin.
A knock interrupted us.
Sarthin entered, holding a strange blade.
"The scouts recovered this from the humans", he said. "Their new general's crest is etched on it."
I examined it.
A crescent wolf. Silver.
"They've changed commanders again", I said.
Morgra snorted as she entered behind him. "Cowards shuffle their leaders like dice. Hoping luck will roll their way."
"They're losing ground", I muttered, "so they gamble."
And I was the dealer.
They would lose every coin.
That night, as the wind howled louder than usual, I sat alone for a moment. My hand hovered over the board.
I whispered aloud to no one, "I will not be forgotten."
The map did not answer.
But the silence agreed.