Winter was Anita's favourite season. The sun would set early, meaning that her unit did not have to wait long before departing on their mission. Perriman, who finished all his duties for the day, stood by the door to the armoury and watched the Captain and two others gear up. "Where are the others?"

Anita looked at him, confused, before hiding her face behind the ghastly mask that tied her armour together. "What 'others?'"

"Well, the rest of your unit. You're not telling me the three of you are enough to take on thirty High Guards." The former duke continued, but his concern was only met with laughter from Anita and the other two soldiers.

"Don't worry your head with stuff like that, Private. The three of us are more than enough to handle some antler-wearing hippies." She said while walking past him towards the door. "Is the Chameleon ready?"

"Yes, Captain," Albrecht replied, following her outside.

The Chameleon was a vehicle unlike anything Perriman had seen before. During his life, he travelled to countless kingdoms and cities across the continent, from the living woods of the Vatur elves, across the Holy City of Larmuth, to the dwarven stronghold of Kar Ga'Dool in the far east. Neither elves with their magic, nor Highborn that governed Larmuth's magic academy, nor the skilled dwarven smiths had ever imagined, let alone created, the machine that now stood before Albrecht.

The concept of a vehicle wasn't novel to him; hell, most high nobles in Larmuth and Marbella had chariots and wagons that were powered by mana crystals instead of pulled by horses. Still, the Chameleon, named after a reptile from Earth, according to Anita, truly lived up to its name. It had six large wheels, the back four hidden behind armour plates. The glass was black, making it impossible to see inside the vehicle without rolling down the window or opening the doors.

What fascinated him the most was the armour of the truck itself. It would shift and change constantly to stay blended in with the environment. When it stood still, Perriman found it to be practically invisible to anyone who wasn't standing within a couple of feet from the vehicle. Spotting it in the dead of night with the naked eye would be impossible.

Its engine was also deathly quiet, barely more than a soft hum beneath the hood. Perriman imagined the horror of the elves and how oblivious they would be to such a vehicle approaching their position. He wondered, however, if the Silver Forest would detect something so heavy if it entered its domain.

"Do you need me to come with you?" Albrecht asked Anita while the group of three was boarding the Chameleon through the back doors.

"No. You have your duties here. Plus, you have mana." She replied, hopping inside. "Sergeant Tubes will be your commanding officer until I return."

It was never a matter of "if" with her. Whatever Anita set out to do, success was the only outcome. Perriman admired that, reminding himself that there was no need for worry. She was as much of a person as she was a human weapon.

One last attachment was added to the truck once the Captain and her team were inside. A plough-like attachment meant to shift the snow behind the vehicle to cover its tire tracks.

***

"We're in position," Anita said to the other two as the truck slowed to a stop. It took them about an hour to drive from the main outpost to their mission location. "The rest of the way is on foot."

The doors swung open, and three soldiers hopped out into the snow, engaging their cloaking armour before their feet even hit the ground. Around them was nothing but wintry silence, the sky overhead clear and the light of the ringed moon softly reflecting off the snow.

Anita's group planned to enter the Silver Forest on foot, parking the camouflaged vehicle about half a kilometre away from the forest's borders. She assumed that if the forest truly was alive and capable of feeling mana, there was little reason to believe it would not also detect the Chameleon. Without knowing how far outside the border the tree roots spread, half a kilometre was the safest distance.

She tapped the driver's side window while passing it. The man inside rolled the window down just enough to hear her. "Stay here. Once the targets are in our custody, I will pop the flare so you know to get closer and pick us up."

"Yes, Ma'am." Replied the driver and rolled the window back up.

One final equipment check, and the group of three departed on foot towards the Silver Forest.

***

The camp was set up hastily; General Eirlys did not care much for appearances. Several tents were made from roots that jutted out of the ground, covered in a layer of grass. Good enough for soldiers to sleep under and keep the cold away.

Guards were placed on rotation to keep watch during all hours of the night. With their camp and the prisoner transfer location being on the very edge of the Silver Forest, her troops no longer enjoyed the protection of the woods. The forest was thick, yes, but compared to the inside of their home, it felt almost barren. Neither roots nor branches intertwined like they did deeper inside the kingdom's territory. Eirlys knew their own eyes and ears would have to compensate for the blind spot where they made camp.

"Judging by the moon, it is almost midnight. The first patrol should have returned already." She sat by the campfire, staring into the dark of the forest in front of her, a sense of foreboding slowly creeping up her back.

It's been hours since she sent out the first patrol to sweep the area; a common course of action considering it has been merely a day since they made camp in that area. Aurelia warned of the potential that the Murder Apes would intervene in an attempt to save the prisoners. The prospect of combat with them did not worry the General much; she knew their tactics.

"They are loud, unrefined and brutish. Every single conflict with them has shown their arrogant nature, their love for announcing their presence. Let them come, I say, we will be able to hear them from a mile away." Eirlys smiled, losing herself in thought, fantasising about how overjoyed Princess Claudia will be when she returns successfully from her mission.

"When this is over and they are executed, I will plead with the princess to make me her personal guard. Just to be as close to her as I can." The lack of movement from the deep part of the woods interrupted her sweet fantasy; her brows scrunching as she frowned. "Gods, where is the first patrol? I will make them sleep under the stars tonight if they are late even a moment longer."

Eirlys commanded High Guard soldiers several times during her centuries-long military career, and never were they late. The forest was eerily quiet; not even the wind seemed to dare to make the canopy rustle. The general sensed that something was wrong, feeling a chill run down her back as if she was being watched. "Taik. Something must've happened to them. I don't like this."

"Amara," Eirlys called out for the elven scout who accompanied them on the mission.

"Yes, General?" The woman replied, dropping a bundle of sticks she had collected for the fire, and briskly walked over.

"Patrol I sent isn't back yet. Go and find them."

"Understood."

Amara Lyndwisp wasn't one of the High Guard. Still, Eirlys brought her along, as there was no scout nor tracker in the Vatur kingdom as skilled as her. The young elf's ability to hone her senses to their absolute peak was rivalled only by the General herself.

A shiver ripped through her body as she peered towards the edge of the clearing, unknowingly locking eyes with the soon-to-be killer of the elves. Amara stooped halfway to the treeline, quickly turning to Eirlys. "General, we aren't alone."

The general watched as Amara went from standing to falling to the ground in a fraction of a second, the decorative piece of the helmet flying through the air as a bullet struck her. All she could hear was the soft whistle of the projectile, as another of the High Guard dropped dead.

"In formation!" She shouted, quickly kneeling to the ground and channelling her mana as she began to chant. Eirlys was aware of just how far-reaching the weapons that the otherworlders used were. Whoever was attacking them wasn't close by; she needed to cut off their line of sight before more of her troops died.

"Sacred Forest. Blessed Mother to all who live within you. Awaken. Unfurl your loving arms against the enemy of your children and shield us from harm within your embrace." The words echoed through the silent night, stirring the living forest from its slumber. The High Guard formed a circle around Eirlys, protecting her while she woke the Silver Forest. The ground shifted beneath them; tree trunks groaning and canopy rustling as the woods came to life.

"What the fuck?" Anita whispered, watching from one of the branches several trees away as the roots began to rise from the ground at the edge of the clearing, creating a wall around and meeting the lowering branches. The two intertwined, creating an almost dome-like barrier which was woven so thick that not even an arrow could slip by.

The dome lacked a top but was still taller than all surrounding tree tops, making it impossible for the warhound to get close enough to take a shot.

Protected by the forest, Eirlys ordered one of the High Guard to check on Amara, who was surprisingly still alive. The bullet that struck her did so just as the scout turned towards the general, breaking the decorative antler and ending up lodged in the helmet. If Amara had looked away even a moment too late, she would've been shot directly in the face. Oaken Elk antlers were known for being incredibly hard to break.

"What are your orders, General?" Amara asked, slowly sitting up with the help of one of the elves, her head throbbing with pain.

"Enchant your arrows and shoot them high. Make it so they shine as if it were noon across the forest. Make it so the light can be seen even from the palace. They will send aid." Eirlys replied, still kneeling with her palms pressed to the ground.

"Aid? There are thirty of us." Another of the High Guard asked, finding the order odd. Surely, that many elite soldiers could deal with their attacker on their own.

"If these were regular humans, I would not even think to call for help. But what we are up against…" The general sighed, banishing the thought from her head before it disrupted her concentration.

A single arrow was fired, enchanted with a spell. Anita moved from branch to branch, trying to find even a single opening to fire through when a bright light swallowed the night sky. She cursed, shutting her eyes and looking in the opposite direction, while the night vision of her facemask adapted to the sudden change in lighting.

Far from the forest, the driver of the Chameleon shielded his eyes with his hand while trying to see where the sudden burst of light was coming from.

It lasted mere seconds before the arrow fell, but was enough to be seen by the White Maiden, sitting far away, on the balcony of the royal palace.

"God damn it. Well, desperate times and all that." Anita shook her head, climbing up one of the trees that was the tallest and closest to the barrier Eirlys had summoned. Her footing seemed wobbly, as if the tree was trying to shake her off. With quick throws, she lobbed several canisters through the opening of the wooden dome.

The warhound had to keep moving; the forest was looking for its foe, roots searching the soil for her, looking to wrap themselves around her legs to deliver swift and painful demise. Her lack of mana made it difficult for the Silver Forest to track her, having to fully rely on feeling, which wasn't easy as Anita moved more like a wild beast than a trained soldier. Her steps were erratic and light, mimicking the movements of scared prey animals. She never stood in one place for too long, switching from running across the soil and quickly climbing from branch to branch before the forest could grab her.

Inside the dome of roots and branches, the elves were faced with a new issue. The metallic canisters that fell through the opening above began quickly expelling a thick fog, which began to cover the entire clearing in a mist that made it impossible to breathe or see. Their eyes burned and watered. Trying to hold their breath didn't help at all.

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Eirlys was forced to stand up, open palms still aimed at the ground as she struggled to maintain her connection with the spirit of the Silver Forest, her airways burning. She struggled to speak, coughing and trying to get even a single breath of fresh air.

"What is this? I can't breathe." The general had to act quickly or else they would all suffocate. "The forest is awake. The dome will hold."

Eirlys stood tall, raising her arms into the sky. Words came out as croaks, choked by the strange fog. "Spirit of wind. Bring your wings down… upon us. Cleanse…" She coughed. "Cleanse us with your breath."

A glowing seal appeared in the air above, followed by a strong gust of wind that blew downwards onto the clearing, dispersing the curtain of mist, pushing the gas out of the clearing. The elves took deep breaths, filling their lungs with as much fresh air as they could hold, yet the effect of the tear gas was not so easy to get rid of.

As Eirlys kept the spell up, the forest stirred again, the dome of wood slowly coming undone. "No! So soon? Is the forest abandoning us that fast? That can't be!"

"General! The spirit of the forest is retreating!' Amara squealed.

"I can see that, Amara! Get your arrows ready. Fire enchantments in all directions as soon as it goes down." The general barked orders.

With the strange mist fully gone, Eirlys began tearing off the decorations from her armour, tossing her helmet aside and replacing it with the one from the dead High Guard soldier nearby, making herself practically indistinguishable from the rest of the soldiers.

The wall of roots hasn't even fully retreated when Anita continued her assault on the elves. Two shots, two more bodies on the ground.

"Fire!" Eirlys shouted as arrows flew in all directions, unleashing the spells they were enchanted with immediately upon striking branches or tree trunks. Each arrow became a massive ball of fire, scorching soil and trees alike.

But it mattered little, as with a clear line of sight, Anita could retreat further into the woods, away from the circle of flame that raged around the clearing.

One after another, the elves began to drop. They scattered, clinging to the treeline for cover, but that provided no salvation from the hunter that circled the clearing, firing shot after shot from different angles. Eirlys could've sworn they were going up against an entire squad of enemy soldiers by how quickly the warhound changed position after each shot.

"We're getting slaughtered here." The general despaired, seeing that a little over half of her men now lay dead on the ground. "I'm running out of mana too. Taik!"

"Another flame volley. Torch the area, we must push them back, create a wall of fire!" She loosed an arrow further than before, the spell unleashing an even bigger fireball. The rest of the High Guard followed, firing in all directions, expanding the area of burning trees as far as their arrows would reach. "Spare no mana!"

Beneath her mask, Anita grinned, relishing the challenge that the High Guard presented. Their efforts were in vain, as the fire that raged did so behind the Warhound. She used the moment of panic when the dome began to descend to get close to her prey, as the fire closest to the clearing was nowhere near as furious as the one now burning further away, otherwise the elves risked burning themselves alive. The heat was tolerable; however, it caused her armour's cloaking to flicker, making her appear and disappear randomly.

This did not escape Eirlys's eyes, as she fired an arrow directly at the warhound as soon as her cloaking disengaged for a second. The shot missed its mark as the general's sight was still recovering from the tear gas, but it let the hunter know that she was no longer going to have such an easy time killing the elves like they were fish in a barrel.

Anita was now stuck between the elves and their general and the wall of fire behind her, cutting off all potential of retreat, as well as preventing the other two squad members from assisting her. The acknowledgement that she underestimated the elves was a bitter truth to swallow.

She continued to circle, using charred trees as cover every time her armour's camouflage would disengage. With every stop, she would plant a small circular device on the tree trunk before continuing to move. One by one, the devices began projecting a three-dimensional image of her, making it seem like there was a unit of almost a dozen soldiers surrounding them.

"Gods, there are so many of them." Gasped one of the elves as the illusions began to appear all around the clearing. They fired wildly at each of the projections, growing more panicked when their arrows simply phased through the enemy soldiers.

"Steady yourselves, they are just illusions!" Eirlys commanded, snapping her troops from their growing state of fear. "Watch for the one that's running around, that's your target."

"If only it were that easy." She gritted her teeth. The opponent they were up against had aim that rivalled her own, each of Anita's shots striking true even while she was running around from cover to cover.

The frequency of shots has reduced as the elves would fire blazing arrows at even the slightest hint of something moving. Accuracy was no longer the name of the game for them; they simply aimed to drive Anita from cover or burn her alive.

"Three… four canisters left." The warhound mumbled as she reached for her belt and began throwing the remaining gas canisters at the clearing. The first of them was shot down by Eirlys, but that did not make much difference as the white fog immediately began pouring out from it.

In seconds, the elves were feeling their eyes begin to sting again, making it harder and harder to focus on their shots. They reached for their quivers and loosed their arrows by muscle memory alone.

"Again with this trick," Eirlys growled, knowing that casting another spell to summon the wind spirit was a risk, as it would make her an obvious target. Still, her options were less than limited; if they could not see, they were as good as dead.

As soon as the elves slowed down their relentless counterattack, coughing and trying to blink through the onslaught of tears that welled in their eyes, Anita began to shoot again, this time with absolute aggression. She had enough fun; it was time to wrap her little hunt up before elven reinforcements arrived.

"Spirit of wind…" The general raised her hands towards the sky again, a seal beginning to form in the sky once more. "Bring your-"

"Oh no, you don't." A bullet whistled through the air. Her ears caught the sound, giving her just enough time to move out of the way before the shot landed.

The remaining High Guard were dropping like flies, rendered unable to fight back by the tear gas. "Retreat!" Eirlys screamed, nocking an arrow and firing it in the direction of the Home Tree, which stood so tall it could be seen from any part of the Silver Forest.

Fire parted as the arrow's spell created a tunnel of air to shield the fleeing elves from the blaze. "Amara! Survive! Survive and tell the Princess Claudia what happened."

"Yes…" Amara coughed heavily, adrenaline pushing the pain in her head aside. "Yes, General."

"I will hold this Ape off," Eirlys said through heavy coughs, mustering her mana to cast the wind spell again, this time much weaker as there was no chanting involved. It provided little in terms of relief but pushed the throat-burning fog from the clearing just enough for her to get fresh air into her lungs and give her eyes some reprieve.

Eirlys, driven fully by anger and desperation, failed to consider the possibility that Anita wasn't operating alone. It was only when she heard the cries of her fleeing troops that she understood how truly hopeless their situation was. Even if they somehow beat the opponent that took out so many of them, there were still more of them hiding in the shadows of the forest, just waiting for their turn.

At least now she could fully focus on the warhound, no longer needing to concern herself with the lives of the soldiers.

"Survive. That's all I ask of you." The general sighed, her words more a prayer than an order as she accepted the grim reality of their situation.

Her foe came into view, cloaking finally fully disengaged. Anita frowned under her mask as her armour could no longer handle the relentless heat exposure. "Blasted piece of shit."

She sighed, looking up at Eirlys, who blinked rapidly, trying to get the stinging and blurriness out of her eyes. "Oh well, guess it's just us two, huh?" said the warhound, despite the elf not being able to understand.

Eirlys took a deep breath while Anita reloaded her weapon, honing her senses and strengthening her body to their absolute peak. The duel was on.

As soon as the warhound's gun clicked, Eirlys shot an arrow in her direction. Anita responded in kind and fired upon the elf. Neither of the two hit their mark.

The general knew she wasn't a proper mage, so she had to conserve her mana as much as possible if she were to come out on top. Her arrows, though enchanted, did not release their spells as that would only burn through her mana reserve, which was already brought low by the many spells she cast before. Summoning spirits was an extremely exhausting endeavour for a combat mage.

"Holy shit!" Anita laughed as Eirlys began moving, dodging each of her shots with such speed that it made her appear as if she was teleporting around.

Eirlys had an equally difficult time hitting Anita, as the warhound moved like a manic animal, making it impossible to predict where she'd go between shots. To make matters worse, all Anita had to do to shoot was squeeze the trigger, putting Eirlys in an almost never-ending state of dodging with only brief moments in between where she could fire off an arrow.

Anita counted each shot, knowing just how much ammo she had left. Bringing only two magazines was a mistake, as she had already burned through the first one while killing the High Guard. "I should've taken Perry's warning more seriously."

Still, she did not feel nearly the same amount of pressure that Eirlys felt. Anita was always on the offensive, and she relished the thought of getting up close and personal with such skilled prey. On top of everything, it wasn't like Eirlys had unlimited arrows either.

Both women stopped moving, staring at each other mere feet apart. Anita was out of ammo, and the general's quiver was empty.

"Keuluar amunisi?" Eirlys asked, pointing towards the gun with her bow.

"Eh, yeah. I like to bring as many bullets as there are targets, since, you know." Anita pointed around at all the corpses. "I don't have a tendency to miss my shots."

Neither of them understood one another by words, yet both could suspect what the other was saying by implication and tonality alone. Anita slowly removed her mask as Eirlys unsheathed her sword. With the fire raging behind her, the warhound looked even more feral than normally.

"Heh. You look exactly how I imagined you. Beastly." Eirlys spat on the ground and took up a stance. The human reciprocated by drawing a large combat knife.

They stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. The elven general has no illusions about what stood before her. Calmness on Anita's face was just a flimsy façade hiding the hunger beneath. This wasn't a regular otherworlder soldier she was facing, nor a combat mage from any of the human kingdoms. One of these human killing machines took down Prince Eothen and almost killed Princess Claudia; if Eirlys was to survive, she had to play every trick she had.

With a deep inhale, Eirlys dashed towards Anita, using the step spell to close the distance almost instantly. She thrust her sword forward the moment she appeared in front of the human, but still hit nothing.

Anita sidestepped the blade by simply shifting to the side and countered, striking Eirlys in the face with her left elbow. Blood gushed from the general's nose as she stumbled back, shaking off the dizziness just in time to block the knife that Anita aimed towards her neck.

"Taik. She can keep up. How is this possible?" Eirlys was wide-eyed as she immediately created some distance between herself and Anita before the human reciprocated the attack.

The general, though skilled and blessed with more mana than any other race by being an elf, was still a combat mage. Like all combat mages, she relied primarily on chantless spells that would bolster her physical attributes. Such spells required an uninterrupted flow of mana to be maintained, so most combat mages would rapidly swap between the spells, always keeping at least one active.

Eirlys, under normal circumstances could afford the luxury of having three such spells active at once, increasing her senses, speed and strength or durability, depending on what the situation required, since as an elf she had a massive mana pool to draw from, even if her mana control was not much to boast about.

Against Howler, such luxury she could not afford. She had already burned through most of her mana, summoning the Silver Forest and the wind spirits, and the warhound moved like she had interminable stamina. On top of her combat prowess, the human seemed to also possess heightened senses; however, hers were not a product of a spell.

Between the buffing spells, one permanently active to keep the general's senses at their peak and the other which increased the speed of her reactions so she could keep up with Anita, and the constant use of the step spell, Eirlys knew their duel would end soon and she would not be on the winning side. Though she could move almost like teleporting, the step spell was linear, and one could not change direction or stop mid-step. The warhound caught on pretty quickly to how the strange dashing worked, so the elf switched the approach by using it to create distance when Anita's attacks became too overwhelming.

Howler was having the time of her life, toying with her prey; still, the knowledge that the bright arrow that illuminated the sky served most likely as a call for aid gnawed at her. By now, the warhound was certain that Eirlys wasn't just another soldier but most likely the leader.

The warhound stopped grinning. The sudden shift in atmosphere brought on by the change in Anita's demeanour sent chills down Eirlys. In four centuries that she had been alive, the general never felt as certain that she was about to die as she did in that moment. She gripped the sword tightly, abandoning all of her spells to channel what little mana remained into the blade.

They locked eyes for just a moment. Eirlys stood terrified, swallowing a lump. The look in Howler's eyes was devoid of any emotion. Gone was the glint of joy she had while fighting the elf only moment prior; now Anita looked at Eirlys as if the latter one was already a corpse.

"More mana. I have only one shot at this." The general steeled herself as the blade began to glow. She raised it just as the glow intensified, once more threatening to drown the surrounding forest in blinding light.

Anita was quicker, reading the movement of the elf, seeing her last-ditch attempt coming from a mile away. With a swift motion, she threw her knife, aimed right between the general's eyes.

The light subsided suddenly as Eirlys moved, interrupting the spell to strike the knife from the air with the hilt of her sword just before it hit its mark. The human beast sprang to action, closing the distance in an instant. The elf swung her sword, but Anita grabbed her by the wrist, her grip vice-like. A twist, followed by an even tighter squeeze as pain shot through the general's arm.

Her cry of pain didn't even get its chance to escape her throat when Anita's fist collided with the elf's jaw; a right hook of such force that Eirlys would have felt several teeth loosening if the world around wasn't already going dark. The sword fell to the ground with a soft thud as Anita grabbed the general's head with both hands and pulled her downwards, introducing the elf's nose to the warhound's knee. The cracking of cartilage filled Howler's ears.

Blood covered the lower portion of Eirlys's face as her eyes rolled back and she collapsed to the ground. Anita kicked the unconscious elf in the ribs, just to make sure she was truly out before bending over to pick up her knife.

"Stragglers have been cleared." Came a voice through her earpiece.

"Good. Signal the Chameleon to move closer. I have bagged us a POW." She replied while grabbing the ropes from the nearby collapsed tents and tying up the general like a piece of meat, finishing with an obligatory "she ain't going nowhere" pat.

The warhound took the sword from the ground and scabbard along with Eirlys's belt, slinging the sheathed blade over her shoulder like a trophy, while looking down at her opponent. The elf seemed important, so she would no doubt make a good prisoner or hostage in case the rest of the mission goes south. Killing her could wait.

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