The morning after the victory brought no joy.
The city reeked of smoke, blood, and sweat. Wounded men groaned in the streets, women searched desperately for their husbands, and children wept over the bodies of their fathers. The price of victory had been far too high.
Amanda walked among the wounded. She helped bandage injuries, carried water, and offered words of comfort in the Reaper’s cold, metallic voice. People looked at her with reverence—she had saved them. But beneath the gratitude, she saw fear in their eyes. Exhaustion. The grim understanding that tomorrow the khan might return with a new army.
In the lazaret, she stopped beside Kaelan’s bed.
He was deathly pale, missing one arm. The wound to his shoulder had been devastating—a spear had torn through the joint and major vessels. The healers had been forced to amputate to stop the bleeding and save his life. He would never hold a sword again, but his heart still beat with the fire of battle.
“You’re here,” he whispered, opening his eyes.
“I’m here,” Amanda replied, sitting down beside him. “How do you feel?”
“Lost an arm,” Kaelan said with a pained smirk. “But not my life. Thank you.”
“It was nothing.”
“You saved me. Again.” He looked up at her. The Reaper’s glowing red lenses stared back. “How many more times will you save me, sister?”
Amanda remained silent.
“You should rest,” she said finally. “I’ll take care of the city.”
“Do that,” Kaelan murmured, closing his eyes. “You’re better at it than I ever was.”
The beastfolk elders and squad commanders had gathered in what used to be a merchant’s mansion. Kaelan could not attend—he was still too weak.
Amanda stood at the head of the table. Black armor, black cloak, and the helmet with glowing red lenses.
“We won the battle,” she said, her voice cold and metallic through the helmet’s vox. “But the war is not over. The khan will bring a new army. We have no resources, no supplies, and no allies. We cannot win in open battle.”
“What do you suggest?” Bjorn asked.
“We retreat into the forests. Guerrilla warfare. Hit their supply caravans and small detachments. Lure them deep into the woods, where their numbers will mean nothing.”
The elders began to murmur among themselves.
“That could take years,” one of them said.
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“It will save lives,” Amanda replied.
“And what if they burn the forests?”
“The forests are too vast and too valuable to burn,” Amanda shook her head. “The khan doesn’t want the forests. He wants cities. He wants taxes. He wants victory. We will give him none of those things.”
The council dragged on for a long time. They argued, shouted, and tried to convince one another.
Then Bjorn, Mia’s father, rose to his feet.
“Reaper,” he said. “Kaelan is no longer a warrior. You saved us. You led us to victory. You should become our leader.”
Amanda froze.
“I am not a leader,” she said. “I am a warrior. I am a shadow. Kaelan is the one who leads.”
“Kaelan has lost his arm,” the wolfman said harshly. “He cannot lead us anymore. And without a leader, we will scatter. We need you.”
“I…”
“I support this,” Mia’s voice rang out from the corner of the room.
Amanda turned toward her. Mia stood with her arms crossed, gazing at the Reaper with firm determination.
“You are my husband,” Mia said. “I know you. I know you don’t seek power. But this is not the time for modesty. We need a leader. And that leader is you.”
Amanda looked at her through the red lenses and felt everything inside her twist.
If only you knew, she thought. If only you knew who I really am…
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
The meeting was interrupted by a messenger who burst into the hall, breathing heavily.
“My lord!” he gasped. “Our scouts in the steppe intercepted a falcon. A letter from the khan!”
Amanda took the scroll. The wax seal bore the image of a vulture — the khan’s personal emblem.
She unrolled the parchment.
"To the Reaper, victor over two armies, the shadow that broke the spine of my cavalry.
I have heard of your strength. I have heard of your cruelty. I have heard that you know no fear.
I could raise a new army. I could hurl it against your walls. I could burn your city and slaughter your people.
But I am not a fool. War is expensive, and I dislike spending more than I can recover.
Come. Let us talk. My camp is three days’ ride to the south. I give you my word of safety — the word of the khan.
If you do not come, I will take it as cowardice. And then I will gather not one army, but all the armies I possess.
I await your answer."
Amanda read the letter twice. Then a third time.
“It’s a trap,” Bjorn said. “He will lure you in and kill you.”
“If he wanted to kill me, he wouldn’t have written,” Amanda replied, tucking the scroll away. “He is offering negotiations.”
“You are not going,” Mia’s voice was firm.
Amanda looked at her.
“I am going.”
“Reaper!”
“If I don’t go, he will gather all his armies,” Amanda turned to the council. “We have no choice. I will ride to the negotiations. In the meantime, prepare for war — in case I do not return.”
She walked out of the hall without looking back.
For three days Amanda rode across the steppe. Alone — if one did not count the invisible shadows that were always nearby.
Leo and Torglin moved twenty paces behind her, their black armor blending perfectly into the tall grass and shadows of the steppe. Amanda could feel their presence. It was the only thing keeping her from losing her mind.
She thought about Randel. About how he had stood on the wall, watching as she kissed Mia. About how he had not walked away, even though she had done everything possible to make him doubt her.
He knew. Or maybe he didn’t. She couldn’t tell.
“He’s waiting,” she thought. “He will wait as long as it takes. He always has.”
On the third day, she finally saw the khan’s camp.
Hundreds of tents, dozens of campfires, and thousands of warriors. In the center stood a massive white felt tent embroidered with gold. The khan’s banner fluttered in the wind — a vulture soaring over the steppe.
Amanda rode into the camp without fear. She was allowed to pass without question — the khan had ordered that the Reaper be received as an honored guest.
Warriors watched her with wary eyes. Whispers rippled through the ranks:
“It’s him…” “The one who slaughtered two armies…” “The demon in iron…”
Amanda paid them no attention. She looked only forward.