"Captain Guan," Lothar said, as the soldier approached. "We're off now. Formally handing everything back to you."

Guan bowed. "Thank you for all you have done, Mr Sauer. You saved the city—and my career."

"Well, thanks for your support. Eva?"

"Here's everything you need," his quartermaster said, handing over a leather bag to the captain. "Keys to everything in the barracks and the stores; records of all supplies and equipment. I hope you find everything satisfactory."

"I'm sure I will. You're heading south?" he asked Lothar.

"That's the plan. I'll hear what my scouts have to say when we get to camp. I trust you'll update Governor Li when he returns."

"Of course. Good luck to you."

They left Benxi via the north gate—the one his squad had captured during the desperate fighting for the city. It seemed an age ago now. At one point he had feared he would spend the rest of his days bedridden. It felt good to be walking outside.

As well as Eva, his companions were Rosalind—still reluctant to let him out of her sight—and Smoke.

"I've been looking forward to hearing the details, Negedu," he told the rogue. "Delayed gratification, you might call it. Tell us the story as we walk."

Rosalind made a face. "Eva and I don't need to hear about torture and killing, thanks very much."

"Not those details. The ones that matter."

"Firstly," Smoke said, "I found her and killed her."

Rosalind sighed.

"This is the assassin who very nearly killed me," Lothar reminded her.

"I know. Continue, Smoke."

"I finally have the name of the Kuthenian commander you've been vying with since we got here. A certain Colonel Wu. Apparently, some call him The Fox. He's one of Kuthenia's best. He gave the assassin her orders to kill you."

"One of their best, eh? Makes my achievements look all the greater."

"Yes, but apparently, he's been under pressure. Kecheng is threatening his officers with death if they fail. That's because Kecheng himself is in trouble. According to this assassin, he is one misstep away from being replaced by the emperor."

"All very interesting," Lothar said. "Some news to pass on to General Fei. First things first, though. We need to finish what we started and defeat this Colonel Wu for good."

The Hoffmeister met them at the gates with a morose look. He cheered somewhat upon seeing Eva, and they embraced.

"What's the matter, Georg?" she asked.

"Hubert left. Went off into the woods with a new friend. I never got to say goodbye to him."

"But he's happy," Eva suggested.

"I was so busy with this sergeant role that I ignored him. Maybe that's why he left?"

"Nonsense," Lothar said. "He was well looked after by Wilson and the others. The truth is, he was a wild bear when he was recruited. The mercenary life wasn't natural for him. He's better off where he is."

"I suppose so."

"Now, get Eva settled, and let me know where I can find my scouts."

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"Clamor is the one who went out most recently. I'll take you to your new quarters and send him over."

The wooden units in the camp provided a very basic level of accommodation, especially compared with what they had in Benxi. Lothar didn't mind living the simple life for a while, though Rosalind looked less than impressed.

The two of them were soon joined by Clamor who provided his report. "At first, I assumed the enemy had come at Benxi direct from the south. Turns out they've been operating from the southeast. I presume that allowed them to infiltrate the Wildwood undetected. They've constructed a makeshift track that leads from this camp all the way to a lake. Probably the biggest damned lake I've ever seen. They have a settlement there."

"How far away?" Lothar asked.

"A two-day march."

"Between here and the lake?"

"Only a small waystation at the halfway point. It's not defensible."

"The settlement on the lake?"

"Not sure. Didn't get close enough to get detailed information. My general impression is that, after Benxi and the Wildwood, we have the upper hand in overall strength."

"Yes, at the moment. But the empire has the resources to send reinforcements. We're better off striking while we have the advantage. How organised do they seem?"

"Just as organised as ever, considering they've suffered such recent defeats."

"Their commander is still around, then."

"Almost certainly."

"Alright. Thanks, Clamor."

"You're going on the attack again?" Rosalind asked him once the scout had left.

"It's the best play. Strategically, as well as politically for me. I want to keep my independence. If Fei judges the Apples are contributing, he's more likely to leave us be."

"You really think he'd send you to the front line?"

"I've had a taste of war. In the end, everything is subsumed to breaking the enemy, no matter the cost. If I can press on and threaten the Kuthenian heartlands on a new front, it might end the slaughter months early."

"Alright. But be careful. No need to throw yourself into the heat of battle."

"But I do need to regain the Level 8 I held all too briefly."

"I mean it, Stiff," she told him. She sighed. "I've been gone from Avolo much longer than I planned for."

"You need to return. I understand. I haven't even asked you about what's going on there."

She screwed her face up. "Rake married Clara Foberoy. He, Wynter, and Anke have quite an influence over the Foberoys these days."

"Gods, I knew that was what Anke was up to. She'll have the whole of Gal'azu under her thumb soon."

"It's a concern, I'll admit. But things change. It's still the honeymoon period. I don't imagine Clara and Raimy will get on forever. There's always the chance of division between Anke, Wynter, and the Guild of Dungeoneers. If an opportunity presents itself, I'll be there to subtly drive them apart."

"Alright. But be careful yourself. One or all of them might decide it's better to get you out of the way."

"I'm always careful. I'll see you soon. A couple of days by a lake sounds nice."

She took the Staff of Hither-Thither and was soon gone.

***

Bletcher stumbled out of his house with little on his mind, save for the idea that there might be breakfast available. As he did, The Harvester was returning to his abode.

"Morning, Vytenis. Not seen you in a while."

"Bletcher. I've been busy. Any news?"

"I'm the last to know. But I did overhear that Stiff is planning to move out soon."

"Stiff? He's in camp?"

Stiff had been in camp for a couple of days. "Yes. You must have been busy not to know that."

"Oh, I have been." The Livanian smiled.

Bletcher nodded. There was a long silence, which made Bletcher wonder whether the conversation had gone wrong somewhere. Thinking back, The Harvester had been the last to speak. "Err—"

"You're a man who honours the gods. I can show you."

"Oh. Very well."

The Harvester led him out of camp, into the trees. There was no path here, and they were soon in a remote part of the Wildwood.

"The gods made me a harvester of souls," Vytenis said.

"Oh. They made me a sorcerer. Took my arm as payment."

"Yes. I know you understand. The gods are mysterious, and it is not for us to question, just to obey."

"Truly."

"What they do with the souls when they reach the afterlife is not for mortal men to dwell on."

"Which souls exactly—oh. These souls."

The Harvester had stopped before a freshly dug hole in which had been placed six heads. Heads of people only recently killed. Next to it was a large mound which, via logic and instinct, Bletcher took to contain the rest of the bodies. "And these people are?"

"When we are killing in missions, everything is simple," The Harvester explained. "In quiet times such as these, however, I must go to greater lengths to satisfy the gods' demands."

"I see."

"If we are leaving, it is time to fill this pit." The Harvester got to his knees and began to shovel dirt over the heads.

Bletcher joined him. His own efforts were poor. But since the gods left him with only one hand, surely that was how they intended it.

"I believe," The Harvester explained, "that the souls sink through to the bottom of our world, then come out the other side. That is where the gods reside. In Gehenna."

Bletcher had never heard it all explained so clearly.

Gloriously divine, it wasn't even for the exalted few like Bletcher to fully understand why the gods asked The Harvester to carry out these killings. He knew the rest of the Apples would have an even harder time understanding.

Best not to mention it.

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