As the sun sank beyond the horizon, twenty wagons brimming with supplies and soldiers rolled into the outpost.
"Ma'am… there's no one here," a soldier reported, returning to the carriage.
Click
The carriage door swung open, and a woman clad in gleaming silver armour stepped down, the weight of command radiating off her.
Twin swords hung on each side of her hips. With one smooth motion, she unfastened her helmet, letting her sharp, cold features come into view.
There was no mistaking her identity— She was none other than Derisa Demar herself.
"Where the hell did everyone go?" she asked, frowning as she tucked the helmet under her arm.
"What's wrong, Mom?" A young woman, barely eighteen years old, bounced out from the carriage after her.
Her features were a near-perfect copy of Derisa's body.
Creamy fair skin. Tight, perky mid-sized tits that strained against her scandalous top. Jet-black hair flowing wildly and green glowing eyes.
