The forest was wide and hushed, broken only by the heavy rhythm of hooves along the dirt trail. Trees arched above them like cathedral beams, their leaves whispering in the wind. Shafts of sunlight cut through the canopy, painting the marching column in bands of gold and shadow.
"General Elisabeth!" Officer Durango called out, his voice crisp as he guided his horse up beside her.
Elisabeth turned slightly in her saddle, reins loose in her gloved hands. "What is it?"
"We're close," Durango said, nodding ahead. "City's just beyond the next ridge. Should be visible within the hour."
She gave a small nod. "We've been marching for four days. Slower than I'd like… but with an army this large, it's expected."
Durango chuckled softly. "Still feels strange. Riding into battle with this many troops at our back… I always thought we'd die in chains before we ever got the chance."
Elisabeth's eyes didn't leave the path ahead. "Have you ever wondered why we were enslaved in the first place?"
Durango hesitated, then looked down at the reins in his hands. "My grandmother told me… it wasn't because we were weak. It was because we were poor."
"Poor?" she echoed.
He nodded. "After the demon war—whether that was decades ago or a century—I don't know... but humans were broken. We ruled before, had the wealth, the cities, the armies. But when the war ended, we were spent. Other races still had gold. We had bodies to sell."
Another rider pulled up beside them—Lieutenant Marko Brandt, brushing dust off his coat.
"You're saying humans sold each other?" he asked, curious.
Durango sighed. "Some did. The nobles sold land to other kingdoms. Kings lived in pleasure while their people starved. And then… the auctions began. Human lives for foreign coin. It wasn't just human greed though. The beastmen, the elves, even the demon remnants—everyone played a part."
Marko shook his head. "So no one's innocent."
"Exactly," Durango said. "They all share the blame. Every last one."
Elisabeth remained silent for a few seconds. The horses clopped forward, birds rustling in the trees overhead. Then her posture straightened.
"Get ready," she said, voice firmer now. "I see it."
Both men followed her gaze. Between the thinning trees and rising terrain, a distant glint caught the light—towers, rooftops, walls stretching into the distance.
Marko let out a low whistle. "That's… massive. Four times the size of Dunes, at least."
"Two-point-seven times," Durango corrected automatically.
"Close enough," Marko muttered.
Elisabeth slowed her horse to a stop. "Return to your units. Form the columns. We'll begin staging by sundown."
Durango and Marko nodded.
"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison before splitting off and galloping down the trail.
Elisabeth sat alone for a moment longer, eyes locked on the city in the distance.
This was no longer just a war.
It was judgment.
And it had arrived.