The relentless call to action, "Press forward! They must not escape!" thundered from the lips of the human commander, a declaration that echoed through the quaint village, inhabited by a community of half-monsters. To the humans, these beings were not considered equals but mere pests, creatures to be eradicated.

"Our position by the church must remain unyielding; our mission hinges upon it."

Within the once serene village, now ensnared in a nightmarish web of violence, these half-monsters, who had lived on the outskirts of society, faced a fate that was nothing short of a grotesque tragedy. Whether they met their end by the cruel edge of swords and spears or were consumed by the voracious flames that devoured their ramshackle homes, the humans saw them as mere obstacles to be removed. The half-monsters, defenseless, stood no chance against the onslaught.

Those fortunate enough to evade the initial assault clung to a fleeting glimmer of hope, attempting to flee the horrors that descended upon them. Yet, relentless human scouts, mounted on swiftness, closed in on their escape routes, driven by the belief that they were dealing with vermin.

In the midst of this chaos, a figure, reminiscent of a fox yet adorned in fur as dark as the deepest midnight, donned ragged attire and raced towards a secluded wooden cottage nestled in a field adjacent to the village. Slamming the door open and gasping for breath, he urgently pleaded:

"Margaret, we must flee, and we must do it now!"

Startled and bewildered by the abrupt commotion, the fox woman, just stirred from slumber, asked, "What's happening? What do you mean?"

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"The humans have invaded us! They'll be here within moments from the village."

"I can't go; Alice is about to be born."

"No, not now!"

"I'm helpless; I'm too weak."

Without hesitation, Joe sprinted to the shed, retrieved a small tumbrel, and hastened back to his wife.

"What are you doing?" Margaret inquired.

"We're heading for the woods. With any luck, they won't discover us there." Joe gently placed his wife in the tumbrel and started pulling it toward the sanctuary of the forest.

By the time they reached the forest's edge, the pursuing soldiers had arrived at their cottage.

"There's nothing of value here, not a single coin," commented one of the soldiers while searching the house.

"Of course, they wouldn't have traded with us anyway. Hey, I've found something."

"I'm on my way; let me see."

"Hmm... The door was left ajar, the fire still burns, and there's a trail leading to the forest outside."

"You're as astute as ever, Fred..."

"Let's track them down."

The female soldier cast a brief glance at the village. "But it's so distant from our main forces."

"If they escape and the captain learns of it, we're finished. It won't take them long, and if they flee, it means they can't offer resistance."

"I have a foreboding about this for some reason."

"Come on!"

In the forest, a dire situation unfolded as Margaret went into labor.

"Did you hear that? Someone's crying."

"Yes, it must be them. We must hasten."

Upon their arrival, the two soldiers were rendered speechless when they encountered a lifeless woman and a bloody newborn, the infant cradled in her husband's trembling arms. Joe, seemingly unaffected by their presence, tears coursing down his cheeks, showed no fear, only profound grief. Tenderly, he placed the infant on his wife's chest and covered them both with a blanket.

As he turned to face the soldiers, Joe whispered, "There's nothing left for me. You may take me as well," and then knelt before them.

One of the soldiers, Fred, approached him and concluded his life with a swift, quiet stroke of his blade. The only sound that remained in the forest was the rustling of leaves in the wake of a successful assault, a testament to the somber aftermath of a devastating encounter.

Two of the soldiers, Fred and his comrade, felt a weight of unease hanging heavily upon them. Their inner voices whispered doubts, a sense that their actions were not as just as they once believed.

The female soldier broke the silence, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Fred, it doesn't feel right."

Her comrade, equally tormented by their deeds, responded in a hushed tone,

"Shhh...! Don't say such a thing. Even if I don't think it's right either."