A week had passed.
And the landscape that had once been a stretch of green, living land before the walls of Dara had become an open graveyard.
The wind carried the metallic smell of blood, mixed with smoke, scorched earth, and charred flesh.
The Imperial banners, immaculate at the beginning of the campaign, were now torn and blackened. Some remained planted in mounds of corpses, held upright only because their poles had become trapped between the bodies.
The ground was covered in craters.
Broken weapons.
Abandoned shields.
The remains of siege engines.
The first attempt to take Dara had failed.
And it had failed in a way no one in the Empire had expected.
Inside the great Imperial command tent, the atmosphere was even worse.
The generals stood around the campaign table, some standing upright while others leaned over the map.
No one spoke.
Naira Ferrussi Becker stood before them.
Her crimson armor was covered in dust.
A small smear of blood remained on one of her gloves.
It wasn't hers.
"Thirty thousand."
No one answered.
Naira slowly traced her finger along one of the lines on the map.
"Thirty thousand Imperial soldiers dead in seven days."
Her voice was calm.
Far too calm.
"And Dara is still standing."
One of the generals swallowed.
"Your Highness..."
Naira raised her eyes.
"Do you know what's worse?"
The man remained motionless.
"It isn't the number of dead."
Naira pointed at the map.
"It's that we're still fighting exactly the way they want us to."
Silence.
"We attack their walls."
Her finger traced the defensive positions.
"They force us to concentrate."
She then pointed toward the magical positions.
"They concentrate their mages."
And finally, she pointed toward the Imperial lines.
"We respond."
Naira paused.
"Then they use their fortifications, magical traps, and the terrain to wear us down."
Her finger slowly traced across the map again.
"Over and over."
She clenched her jaw.
"They're turning us into a machine that destroys itself."
No one dared to answer.
Naira picked up one of the casualty reports.
"Kingdom casualties?"
One of the generals spoke in a restrained voice.
"Five thousand, Your Highness."
Naira raised her eyes.
"Out of an initial force of?"
"Twenty-one thousand."
Naira calculated the numbers in her head.
Nearly a quarter of the defending forces had been taken out of the fight.
It was an enormous loss.
But it still wasn't enough.
"Bourlance?"
"Critically wounded."
"Can he return to battle?"
"We don't know."
Naira placed the report back on the table.
"Then the Kingdom is paying a price as well."
Her gaze returned to the map.
That was the only thing preventing the Imperial defeat from becoming a complete disaster.
Carpathia was losing men.
The difference was that the Empire could replace its casualties.
Carpathia could not.
Naira breathed slowly.
"And our generals?"
This time, no one answered immediately.
Finally, one of the officers lowered his head.
"Four dead."
Another spoke.
"One more is out of action."
Naira closed her eyes for a moment.
Ten elite generals sent to the front.
Four dead.
One incapacitated.
In a single week.
Her father might not consider that a military defeat.
He would consider it a personal humiliation.
Naira opened her eyes.
"Who killed them?"
This time, the answer came without hesitation.
"Laurence Douglas."
The name fell over the tent.
Naira looked toward the right flank of the map.
She had seen that man fight.
She had watched him from the hills.
She had studied his movements for days.
He wasn't simply strong.
He was efficient.
He didn't waste mana.
He didn't cast spells he didn't need.
His sword remained wrapped in mana throughout long stretches of combat, and every movement seemed to make use of the last fraction of energy he spent.
He didn't fight to prove his strength.
He fought to preserve it.
When he could dodge, he dodged.
When he could block, he blocked.
When his armor could stop a blow, he let it do its job.
And when he attacked...
He didn't waste the movement.
But there was something even more important.
Laurence never strayed too far from his men.
Whenever one part of the Douglas formation came under pressure, he was there.
Whenever a soldier fell, another took his place.
And as long as the formation remained intact, Laurence could keep fighting.
Naira finally understood what she had been watching throughout the entire week.
They weren't merely fighting a warrior.
They were fighting a structure.
And Laurence was its pillar.
"Duke Douglas..."
She murmured the name.
One of the strategists dared to speak.
"We could send more Level Eighty generals."
Naira slowly shook her head.
"No."
The man blinked.
"Your Highness?"
"We already made that mistake."
She stepped closer to the map.
"Sending generals against Laurence one after another will only mean giving him more corpses."
She picked up a piece representing the Douglas forces.
She moved it slightly.
"We don't need to defeat him."
Everyone watched her.
"We need to prevent him from fighting the way he wants."
Naira placed the piece back on the map.
"That is the problem."
She pointed toward the walls.
"Dara was built to withstand sieges."
Then she pointed toward the supply routes.
"Their reserves are inside the city."
Then she indicated the troop positions.
"Their soldiers can retreat behind the walls whenever they need to rest or reorganize."
Her finger stopped over the Imperial lines.
"We are the ones who have to remain outside."
One of the strategists began to understand.
"Then..."
Naira raised her eyes.
"Then we stop trying to take Dara."
The man hesitated.
"And what do you propose, Your Highness?"
Naira stared at the map for several seconds.
The answer seemed simple.
But for the first time since the campaign had begun, she did not want to answer immediately.
For years, she had studied maps.
Memorized campaigns.
Learned how sieges were constructed, how legions were organized, and how long a fortress could hold depending on its reserves.
But none of that had taught her what it felt like to watch thirty thousand men die because a strategy that had worked perfectly on paper had failed against a real enemy.
Naira placed both hands on the table.
One of the strategists began to understand.
"Then..."
Naira raised her eyes.
"Then we stop trying to take Dara."
The man hesitated.
"And what do you propose, Your Highness?"
Naira stared at the map for several seconds.
The answer seemed simple.
But for the first time since the campaign had begun, she did not want to answer immediately.
For years, she had studied maps.
Memorized campaigns.
Learned how sieges were constructed, how legions were organized, and how long a fortress could hold depending on its reserves.
But none of that had taught her what it felt like to watch thirty thousand men die because a strategy that had worked perfectly on paper had failed against a real enemy.
Naira placed both hands on the table.
"I want to know what you would do."
The generals exchanged glances.
This time, no one answered immediately.
Finally, one of the most veteran strategists stepped forward.
"If you allow me to speak frankly, Your Highness..."
"Do it."
The man pointed at the map.
"What we've done this week was a mistake."
Naira showed no reaction.
"We tried to conquer a fortress as if its only defense were its walls. They aren't."
He moved a piece over Dara.
"They have enough reserves to last for months. Their spatial storage facilities can hold quantities our scouts will never be able to calculate accurately. And if they need anything from outside..."
He pointed toward the sky drawn on the map.
"They have magical beasts capable of transporting supplies."
Naira frowned slightly.
"Then a blockade wouldn't work."
"Not a conventional one."
The strategist shook his head.
"We could surround Dara for months, and they would still have food, water, and mana. And as long as we remain here, we'll have to keep tens of thousands of men mobilized."
Naira lowered her gaze.
"Then we can't wait either."
"No."
The man pointed toward the battlefield.
"But we can't keep attacking the walls the same way."
Naira remained silent.
Another general spoke.
"Your Highness, if we keep launching frontal assaults, we will eventually take Dara."
Naira raised her eyes.
"At what cost?"
The general hesitated.
"I can't say."
"I can."
Naira picked up the casualty report.
"Thirty thousand dead in seven days."
She placed it on the table.
"Five thousand from the Kingdom."
No one spoke.
"If we maintain this ratio, we will eventually win. The Empire has enough men to replace our losses."
"They don't."
The veteran strategist nodded.
"That is true."
Naira looked at him.
"But it isn't a victory we can afford."
"No."
The man pointed at the map.
"If we spend a hundred thousand men taking Dara, we'll have to request more troops just to reach the capital. And we'll still have to conquer the Douglas duchy."
His finger slowly moved across the Imperial positions.
"We'll reach the next battle with an army that is too large to have lost so much over a single fortress."
Naira understood.
It wasn't a question of whether the Empire could win.
It could.
The problem was how much it would cost to win.
And how much they would have to pay afterward.
Naira looked at the walls again.
"Then what would you do?"
The strategist took a deep breath.
"I would change the objective."
Naira raised an eyebrow.
"Instead of conquering Dara?"
"Instead of trying to conquer it immediately."
He moved several pieces.
"During the day, we attack."
Another piece.
"At night, we attack as well."
Naira watched him closely.
"Without rest?"
"Exactly."
Another general intervened.
"I don't mean launching a continuous assault against the walls. That would simply repeat the same mistake."
He pointed toward different sectors.
"Constant pressure. Small attacks. Feints. Magical artillery. Raids. Skirmishes. Changes in formation."
He moved the pieces around Dara.
"We attack one sector for an hour. Then another. Then another."
"And if they concentrate their forces?"
"We change targets."
Naira began to understand.
"We aren't looking for a breach."
"We're looking to force them to react."
The veteran nodded.
"Exactly."
He pointed toward the walls.
"During the day, they'll have to keep soldiers ready to fight."
Then he pointed toward the towers.
"At night, they'll have to maintain their watch."
Another piece.
"Their mages will have to keep their defenses active."
Another.
"Their warriors will have to rotate."
Naira narrowed her eyes.
"And if they leave one sector without enough men..."
"We attack that sector."
"If they reinforce it..."
"We attack another."
The strategist placed the pieces back on the table.
"We don't want them to spend their reserves."
He paused.
"We want them to spend their ability to fight."
Naira remained motionless.
This was different.
They weren't trying to kill Dara's army.
They were trying to prevent it from resting.
"And at night?"
The general looked at her.
"Especially at night."
"The walls will be weaker."
"And their men will be tired."
"But so will ours."
"Yes."
The man held her gaze.
"The difference is that we are the Empire."
Naira remained silent.
The strategist continued.
"We have more men. We can organize shifts. While one part fights, another rests. While one legion withdraws, another takes its place."
He pointed toward the Imperial positions.
"They don't have that luxury."
Naira finally understood their true advantage.
It wasn't simply numbers.
It was the Empire's ability to maintain a pace of warfare that Dara could not match.
"I don't want them to rest," she said.
The generals looked up.
Naira picked up an Imperial piece.
She placed it in front of the walls.
"Let them think we're going to attack."
She moved another.
"Then let them realize it was a feint."
Another.
"When they begin to withdraw..."
The piece changed position.
"We attack another sector."
Naira began placing pieces around Dara.
"I want every nighttime alarm to force a soldier to get out of bed."
Another piece.
"Every false attack must force a mage to prepare a spell."
Another.
"Every movement must force them to decide whether it's worth sending reinforcements."
The veteran smiled slightly.
"That will force them to spend mana even when there is no real attack."
Naira nodded.
"And when a real attack comes..."
The strategist finished the sentence.
"They'll be exhausted."
Naira turned her gaze toward the right flank.
The black banner.
The Douglas.
Her expression changed slightly.
"And Laurence?"
The atmosphere became tense again.
One of the generals checked the reports.
"He remains the most dangerous combatant on that flank."
"I already know that."
Naira pointed at the map.
"I want to know what happens when he has to respond to several attacks simultaneously."
The general hesitated.
"You intend to confront him?"
"No."
Naira slowly shook her head.
"I want to force him to choose."
She pointed toward one sector.
"We pressure here."
Then another.
"And here."
Finally, the Douglas flank.
"And here."
The generals exchanged glances.
"If Laurence protects one point, he'll abandon another."
"Exactly."
"And if he tries to be everywhere..."
Naira finished the sentence.
"Then eventually he'll have to spend more mana."
The veteran strategist remained thoughtful.
"That could work against any commander."
Naira shook her head.
"No."
Her eyes remained fixed on the black banner.
"With Laurence, it's different."
She remembered what she had witnessed throughout the week.
His sword wrapped in mana.
His precise movements.
The way he used his armor.
The absence of unnecessary spells.
Laurence did not seem to have an infinite reserve.
He simply made every point of mana seem more valuable.
"He doesn't waste energy," she murmured.
The strategist nodded.
"That is what the reports say."
"No."
Naira slowly shook her head.
"The reports say he's efficient."
Her gaze hardened.
"I saw him."
She remembered the battle.
"It isn't efficiency."
She paused.
"It's experience."
Naira picked up a sheet of paper.
She wrote a single word.
Laurence.
Beneath it, she began writing.
How long can he remain in combat?
How many times can he use his imbued sword?
How much mana does he spend per hour?
How long does it take him to recover his strength?
What happens when he has to fight after a sleepless night?
She stopped.
Then added:
Can he protect two sectors at the same time?
Naira set down the pen.
"I don't want anyone trying to kill him again."
The generals stared at her in surprise.
"Your Highness?"
"If we send another Level Eighty general against him, we'll learn exactly what we learned this week."
She pointed toward the pieces representing the dead Imperial generals.
"That Laurence can kill them."
She removed one of the pieces.
"I don't need to know if he can do it again."
Her finger struck the map.
"I need to know how long it takes him to reach his limit."
The veteran understood.
"You're going to wear him down."
"No."
Naira corrected him.
"We're going to wear everyone down."
She looked toward the walls.
"Laurence isn't Dara."
Then she pointed toward the Douglas soldiers.
"The Douglas aren't infinite either."
Finally, she pointed toward the Kingdom's positions.
"No one is."
The princess straightened.
She was no longer thinking about a decisive battle.
She was thinking about the rhythm of the war.
"I want attacks during the day."
The generals began taking notes.
"And at night."
Another note.
"I want them to change targets constantly."
Another.
"I want our troops to rotate before they reach exhaustion."
Another.
"I want their troops to have to do it after reaching it."
Naira raised her eyes.
"I don't want our men dying to conquer a wall."
Her voice turned cold.
"I want the defenders to die trying to keep it."
No one answered.
"We won't give them another battle."
Naira pointed toward Dara.
"We'll give them a hundred."
Silence.
"Small ones."
"Uncomfortable ones."
"Unpredictable ones."
Her gaze moved from one general to the next.
"One during the day."
"Another at dusk."
"Another during the night."
"And another just before dawn."
One general swallowed.
"That would mean keeping the army moving almost constantly."
Naira nodded.
"Yes."
"There will be casualties."
"There already are."
"And our soldiers will become exhausted as well."
Naira looked at him.
"That's why we'll rotate the legions."
She paused.
"The Empire can afford to rest in shifts."
She pointed toward the walls.
"I want to find out if Dara can do the same."
No one questioned her again.
Naira looked once more at the Douglas banner.
For a week, she had tried to figure out how to defeat Laurence.
Now she understood that she had been asking the wrong question.
She didn't need to find a sword capable of piercing his defenses.
She didn't need to find a stronger general.
She didn't need to kill him.
She only needed to make sure that, someday, at some point, Laurence would have to choose where to be.
And when that moment came...
Naira would be waiting.
The princess turned her gaze away from the map.
"We begin tonight."
The generals froze.
"Tonight?"
Naira nodded.
"We won't give them a night of rest."
She pointed toward Dara.
"Let them know the war has changed."
Outside, the sun was beginning to disappear behind the walls.
The Imperial soldiers had been fighting for a week.
So had the defenders.
But tonight would be different.
Because for the first time, Naira was not trying to win a battle.
She was trying to control the rhythm of the entire war.
And if Dara wanted to survive...
It would have to do so without sleep.