White Rock City, the study in the general's residence.
The air was still stuffy and stale, but General Hoffman's mood had changed completely.
With his back to the door, he gazed out at the night that had fully descended. A rare, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, and the deep red wine in his glass swayed gently, as though celebrating in silence.
The adjutant stood behind him, his expression grave, his voice carrying a hint of urgency and worry.
"General, we've just received an urgent message from the Patrol Unit outside the city... The Third Light Cavalry Squad was ambushed on its way back, at the edge of the Black Pine Forest, less than five kilometers from here.
"The losses... were devastating. Almost the entire squad was wiped out. Only two riderless horses returned."
A brief silence settled over the study. Footsteps sounded outside as servants passed, and the adjutant waited tensely for the outburst of fury he expected.
General Hoffman's response, however, took him by surprise.
"Oh?"
The general slowly turned. In the dim light, his pale gray eyes gleamed strangely-not with anger, but with the excitement of a hunter finally seeing his prey step within reach of a snare.
Far from growing angry, his smile deepened. He even raised his wineglass in a distant toast to the night beyond the window.
"Good. Very good."
His voice was low and pleased, filled with the satisfaction of a man who understood everything.
"So they finally couldn't hold back? Those women moved faster than I expected, and more ruthlessly, too."
The adjutant froze.
"General? You mean..."
"This ambush."
General Hoffman walked over to the massive oak desk and lightly tapped the Black Pine Forest on the map.
"Perfect timing, ruthless execution, clean and decisive. This was no work of ordinary bandits