The village transformed from a bustling construction site into a hive of strategic movement the moment the tent flap hit the canvas.

The ’Task Force’ had split, leaving a vacuum of leadership that I stepped into immediately.

​"Everyone! Listen to me!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the panic of the bleating sheep and the sharp, nervous chatter of the rabbits. "Mothers, children, and elders—move to the palace hall now! Bears, help the rabbits with the heavy doors. Hyenas and Beavers, secure the lower vents!"

​The hall was massive, a stone-and-timber beast of a room that was meant for celebrations, but today it was a bunker.

I watched as the rabbit tribe scurried toward safety with their kits tucked under their arms. The sheep mothers followed, their woolly hair messy as they hurried their lambs along.

The males were all at the back

​"Thalor!" I called, seeing him linger near me with no specific task. "I need you at the water-gates. If the snakes try to bypass the ridge and come through the irrigation trenches, you’re the only one who can stop them without a sword."

​Thalor’s violet eyes locked onto mine. He looked like he wanted to argue, but the sight of the first cloud of black smoke over the treeline silenced him. He nodded once and sprinted toward the palace’s rear plumbing hub.

​I turned to the few warriors remaining at the foundation.

"Oryn! Get your badgers to the North-East trench. Cover the openings with the loose limestone. If they try to scale the knee-high walls, trip them up!"

"Yes, Queen,"

​As the last of the non-combatants disappeared into the palace, a heavy silence settled over the valley—the kind of silence that usually preceded a landslide.

​I looked toward the ridge. The sounds of a brutal engagement were already drifting down. I could hear Noah’s terrifying war-howl and the unmistakable crack of Damar’s tail striking bone.

They were holding the main path, but I knew those red scales weren’t that simple. They were sneaky and cunning. They’ll surely try to attack from somewhere other than the main path.

Now, if I were them, where would I approach from next?

I thought about it for about a minute, and my nose twitched in the air. My ears flared, and I looked around. Has anyone else not noticed, or are my senses just too sharp?

Ah, it seems I’m the only one who noticed.

There was one place they could come through.

​"Talia, Solin, come with me!" I called out.

​Talia stepped forward, her dark hair windblown and a wicked, wolfish grin on her face. Beside her, Solin stood like a statue of ice, her claws already out and shimmering.

​"The ridge is a distraction," I said, pointing toward the tall grass near the livestock pens. "I can smell them. They’re going to attack from behind us."

"Behind us?" Talia asked. "But aren’t they up front?"

"Yeah, and that’s a distraction. They’ll have the males fight in front and from the back, they’ll attack, aiming for the sheep and rabbits."

"Then what do we do?" Solin asked calmly, and I snapped my fingers.

"We’re going to intercept them at the mud-traps."

The mud trap was a good idea. And with the beavers helping, it’ll be a smooth activity. We just need someone to land the finishing blow when the snakes are caught.

And that someone... is us three females.

I don’t know about the rest, but I am confident that Solin and Talia can hold their ground in a fight, and that is why I chose to have them with me. But in case I mistook the situation, there have to be others who will protect the vulnerable folks. That is why I am leaving the bears, Oryn and his building party, excluding the beavers who will come with us, to stay back and protect them.

​"Let’s go," I hissed. "I’ve got a kingdom to protect, and I’m not in a very patient mood."

I turned my head toward the hurdled beavers.

"Is the vent secure?" I asked, and they nodded. "Alright. Now, beavers! With me!" I barked, and the stout, powerful builders scurried from the palace foundations, their tails slapping the mud in a ready rhythm.

We moved toward the livestock pens, where the grass grew thick, and the ground was naturally soft from a nearby spring. "Let’s start digging!" I commanded. "The irrigation line runs three feet below. Break the seal and flood the trench. We’re turning this sector into a swamp."

As the beavers tore into the earth with terrifying efficiency, I turned to Talia and Solin.

"The mud will slow their movement," I said, watching the water crest over the lip of the trench. "Serpent beastmen need traction for their tails. Once they hit that slurry, they’ll lose their balance. They won’t be able to stay upright to strike."

"And that’s when we rip them open," Talia chirped, her eyes flashing gold.

Maybe she’s a little too excited, but it’s not bad. We need this much excitement in order to go against the snake beastmen. Especially ones that are as cruel as the red snakes.

Suddenly, the grass didn’t just sway; it parted.

Fifteen red-scales surged out of the brush. They were in their half-beast forms—powerful, bronze-skinned human torsos held high and proud, tapering into thick, crimson serpent tails that churned the earth behind them. They looked like a nightmare from an ancient myth, their hooded eyes fixed on the livestock pens as they lunged.

Splash.

The first wave hit the flooded trench. The mud, churned into a thick, clay-like trap, acted like quicksand.

The red scales hissed in frustration, their human arms flailing to maintain their balance as their heavy tails lost all purchase in the slurry. They couldn’t stay upright; their torsos tipped and swayed as they struggled to keep from sinking into the grey muck.

"Now!" I screamed.

Solin moved like a white blur. I have never seen her in action, but I assumed she was stronger than the average female, and she was. She didn’t growl; she simply appeared above the first trapped beastman and brought her claws down with the weight of a mountain, severing the point where his human spine met his serpent tail.

That... was brutal.

Talia, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of teeth and fury, leaping into the fray with a wild laugh, her wolf form emerging in flashes of dark fur as she tore into the exposed chests of the red-scales who were floundering in the mud.

I stood my ground at the edge of the pit. One particularly large red-scale managed to bridge the mud by coiling his tail over the bodies of his fallen comrades.

He surged upward, his human torso looming over me, his fangs bared and dripping with a paralyzing venom.

I stepped into his strike, the adrenaline turning the world into slow motion. I let out my claws and aimed for where he least expected. His neck.

I slashed across his bronze throat with a jagged, horizontal stroke. He recoiled, his human head snapping back as he clutched at the spray of blood, but before he could even register the shock, I lunged again. I brought my hand down with everything I had, clawing deep and savage until I felt the bone give way.

The head of the scarred red-scale slumped, and I realized with a grim satisfaction that I had beheaded him before he could even land a blow.

Ah, these guys were easier to deal with than I thought, I realized, my chest heaving. Maybe because they were stuck, or maybe because I’m just getting used to the taste of blood.

I turned, ready to face the next one, but then a roar that shook the very foundation of the palace echoed through the valley. It wasn’t a wolf’s howl or a tiger’s snarl. It was the sound of the earth itself cracking open.

Then, Damar, in his full beast form—a silver serpent of titanic proportions—speared forward from the treeline. He moved with a speed that defied his size, his scales shimmering like polished armor. He didn’t even slow down as he reached the livestock pens.

He lunged, his massive fangs sinking deep into the neck of the scarred red-scale that had dared to threaten me. There was a sickening snap as my husband’s powerful jaws closed, and he shook the smaller snake like a rag doll before tossing the limp half-body into the mud.

He coiled himself around the perimeter of the pit, a living wall of silver, his emerald eyes burning with a protectiveness so fierce it felt hot. Behind him, Noah and Fenric emerged, bloodied but triumphant, looking in awe at the ’mud trap’ we had engineered.

"The back-door ambush," Noah panted, wiping blood from his brow. "You actually called it, Little Tiger."

Damar shifted back, his human form emerging from the coils of the silver beast. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, his eyes searching me for injuries. He didn’t say a word; he just stepped over the mud and pulled me into a crushing embrace, his heart thundering against mine.

"I told you," I whispered into his shoulder, my hands shaking just a little now that the heat of battle was fading. "I’ve got a kingdom to protect."