The fast boat was... fast, to say the least. General Forge didn’t know how else to describe the speed at which they were going, but it was much faster than any form of water transportation the Demonfolk ever had.

No wonder the Humans had been able to organize so many surprise attacks on the coasts during the war.

Right now, he was watching Sollar standing at the bow of the ship. She had her arms outstretched, like a bird, with her shovel in one hand. She raised the arm holding her shovel up, then aimed it directly forward. As though she was directing the ship.

General Forge glanced up at the sails, which were very obviously being powered by magic. It seemed the masts of the vessel were made of some type of metal that they were channeling magic into, as evident by the light-blue glow coming from them. However, he wasn’t specialized much in how magic worked on a fundamental level, so he couldn’t really guess how the Humans even got boats that could go faster than the wind.

Now that General Forge had a moment where he wasn’t actively supervising Sollar or worrying over her, he had some time to think by himself. His thoughts were drifting to the other Demonfolk Generals.

“Maybe General Riall could explain to me how this fast boat worked,” he murmured.

Of all the Generals, he questioned the most recent appointee, the Fourth Demonfolk General known as General Riall. She was very intelligent, he could not deny that. And was also very mentally mature. However, intelligence and maturity didn’t necessarily correlate with leadership skills. In fact, she was likely the most meek of them all.

Before, he saw that as a liability. Now? He could only feel pity for her, since she was now effectively serving as the puppet leader of the Demonfolk territories. Heck, she was even appointed as such against her will!

Right... General Forge pressed a few fingers to the side of his head, to allow him to think. He didn’t like the idea of questioning Lord Luth. The Demon Lord did say that General Riall was very useful in innovating Demonfolk weapons to be used against the Humans.

Riall became the Fourth General late in the years of the war. Maybe if she had been noticed sooner, she could’ve had an effect. It was probably too late at the time she had been promoted. Whatever benefit might’ve been gleaned from her intelligence had been minimal, as the Humans were already encroaching on the inner Demonfolk territories.

He thought over to the Second Demonfolk General, Seis. She had supported the appointment of Riall. The First Demonfolk General, Brington, he had been indifferent.

And, of all four of the Demonfolk Generals, the Humans were only officially aware of the location of General Riall. Dang it, did Forge paint himself as a target by assisting Sollar? He hadn’t really considered it, since he didn’t even have to lie low when working as a laborer on the Frontier. But the chase at New Frontierland was definitely putting him on the radar.

And where were the others now? Brington and Seis simply disappeared. Had they melted away into the population to live out a regular life? Or were they plotting?

The second thought actually scared General Forge a bit. He still saw himself as a Demonfolk General, but was absolutely not looking forward to fighting again. His pride still hurt, even months after his weapon was slashed in half by the Hero, and the end of his horn broken off.

What was he even doing here?

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Sollar. She was looking at him from the bow of the ship.

“Why aren’t you jumping around?” Sollar asked. “Being on a boat is fun, isn’t it?”

Right... he was here to help his Lady. She might’ve not been all that bright, but she still was the Demon Lord’s younger sister.

“I don’t like riding on boats,” he admitted. “Prefer solid ground beneath me.”

General Forge wasn’t feeling queasy, per se. He simply disliked the rocking of the vessel beneath him.

On second thought, there was a rising uneasiness in his stomach. The General put a hand over his mouth as it seemed to want to bubble up his throat. He decided to stepped closer to the side of the ship as the General suddenly felt bile rise up in his throat.

“Oh goodness,” he muttered. “Maybe I am getting seasick...”

He rubbed his chest, in an attempt to prevent himself from vomiting. Sollar noticed.

“Don’t be a scared person!” Sollar exclaimed. “I was on the barge boat earlier and it was fine!”

“A barge is different,” the Demonfolk General muttered. “Those are on rivers. No waves on rivers. Oceans, on the other hand, have huge waves.”

A spray of water went over the side and splashed onto General Forge, drenching him in seawater.

“Case in point,” the Demonfolk General muttered.

Sollar didn’t seem to have such worries. She stepped up to the bow of the ship and raised her shovel up, as the win blew past her face.

“We’re going so fast!” she exclaimed. “A lot faster than the other boats!”

As he gazed at the Demonfolk girl, General Forge remembered that he still had some of the meat pies.

“Oh, Sollar,” he said. “I got some food, too. Are you hungry?”

The Demonfolk girl glanced at him, then smiled.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “I was running a lot. So I’m hungry!”

He held out the meat pie to her, which she snatched up and took a greedy bite out of. He picked out another second meat pie from the paper bag and took a bite.

Human-made foods were quite different from what the Demonfolk ate. But it was still rather nice, he thought, as he chewed on the savory filling.

“I see something!” the Demonfolk girl exclaimed. “A tall thing all the way in the distance.”

General Forge glanced at where she was looking, and sure enough if he squinted his eyes he could see the shimmering spire of a tall building.

“Wait... what’s that?” he asked. “We’re almost there already?”

It took a minute for the ship to have gotten close enough for the Demonfolk General to confirm what it was: It was the top of the Capital’s Palace Spire fortress, the tallest of the lookout towers on it.

“Holy smokes...” he muttered. “How are we almost there already?”

“We’re almost there?” Sollar asked. She stepped over to the bow and shouted out, “Luth-ar, I’m almost there!”

“Shush, milady!” the Demonfolk General exclaimed, running up behind her and pulling the girl back. “We can’t out ourselves like this, be careful!”

It was unlikely that anyone heard her over the sounds of splashing waves and magically-enhanced sails rustling, but General Forge wasn’t going to take any chances.

The Capital was approaching very fast. For just a second, the Demonfolk General feared that the ship was going to wreck itself directly on the island, but that did not happen. The ship performed a tight turn, in such a manner that all it needed to do was decelerate before riding up perfectly alongside the dock that they were going to unload from.

“Fast ship from New Frontierland to the Capital has stopped!” the captain aboard yelled to everyone on deck. “Departures back to New Frontierland will begin boarding in ten minutes! Everybody off!”

The crowd surged to the gangway, and it was only by mere chance that General Forge kept hold of Sollar’s arm, so the two wouldn’t be separated by the pushing crowds.

They had eventually stepped to the main streets, so the surging crowd of people exiting the boat wouldn’t push them any further. The pair now were looking up at the daunting Capital before them, with all its various smokestacks and warehouses.

General Forge could feel that something was off. It was like a magical itch, a familiar one he hadn’t felt ever since the War had ended.

“I sense one of the other Generals here,” General Forge muttered. “Maybe it’s General Brington or General Seis.”

“Gen-rall Say-say?” Sollar asked, glancing at General Forge. “Is she here?”

“I don’t know. Just know it’s probably one of those two. I can’t open up my magical communications to check, since that’d be broadcasting my exact location to the Hero and any other magical detection systems the Humans might have in place.”

“I hope it’s Say-say. She’s nice. What about Ria-ar?”

“General Riall?” Forge asked. “I don’t think she’d be here, she’s the one put into power as a puppet governor over the Demonfolk territories. Not sure how that girl even managed to become a General in the first place...”

He glanced over the Capital city from the dockyards. The Palace Spire, which was the primary landmark of the city, stood in the middle. Human naming conventions were lost on him; It looked a lot less like a palace and more like a fortress.

“If I had to narrow it down, it’d likely be General Seis. As much as it’d be in everyone’s interest to lie low, Brington isn’t the type to go out quietly. Or, that’s what I think.”

General Forge was trying to evaluate how to get into the Palace Spire. The imposing castle-like fortress was tall and likely heavily guarded.

Things would be really helpful right now if General Seis and her Strikester task force were here right now. But they’d be too conspicuous.

First things first, they needed to get to the Palace Spire itself.

General Forge pulled from his knapsack a durable bandage he had packed away in Grand Elm. The Demonfolk General used it to wrap the severed end of his halberd around his tail. It was the shoe of his halberd, consisting of the second half of the wooden pole and the metal piece at the end which allowed him to dig it into the ground.

“There... I’ll keep it like that,” he muttered. “So I don’t lose you.”

He then looked down the busy, industrious street, the Palace Spire laying at the end.

“Forr-ar?” Sollar asked. “Are we going?”

“Yes, let’s go. Your brother is waiting for you,” General Forge said.

Sollar decided to take the lead directly to the Palace Spire, as the two stepped through the busy streets. General Forge was rather surprised at how much industry was centralized in this city; the Demonfolk Capital was, in his opinion, much more beautifully built than what the Humans called a ‘Capital’.

The chimneys spewing smoke and the smell of coal in the air did not help with that.

Thankfully, not many people paid much attention to him or Sollar. A lot of the workers here had been Demonfolk indentured servants, which meant that the pair, with their rather shabby clothes, blended in well.

General Forge had been contemplating how to get through the security of the Palace Spire, so much so that he didn’t notice Sollar getting a little too far ahead. He hadn’t been too worried; there were a lot of Demonfolk here, so it was reasonable for him to expect her to be safe.

He did not expect a familiar drunkard to stumble up to the Demonfolk girl. Said individual, evidently a Human, placed an arm around the Demonfolk girl’s shoulders, taking her by surprise. In the man’s other hand was a bottle of liquor.

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General Forge notice and hurried over.

“Milady!” he exclaimed.

The Demonfolk General got close enough to hear the conversation between the two.

“Name’s... Salkin. You heard of me. Right?” the man asked.

General Forge cursed. Sir Salkin? As in, member of the Hero Party? What was he doing around here?

“Huh?” Sollar asked. She placed both her hands on the arm he had thrown around her shoulder, lifting it off. The Demonfolk girl glanced at him in confusion.

General Forge was one step away from grabbing Mandrel and skewering that Arbalest through the chest.

“Yer a pretty one... but you look familiar...”

Salkin’s eyes were half-opened, as he glanced over Sollar’s face. There was a glimmer of familiarity in his eyes as he examined her features.

“Huh... orange-ish hair and those horns... Am I remembering someone? Nah, it’s probably... urgh...”

The Arbalest proceeded to vomit right on the street. Sollar hopped away from the splatter, and even General Forge took a step back.

“Urk... Sorry,” Salkin muttered. “Might’ve had too much to drink. Another swig or two might clear my head.”

General Forge looked on in disgust as the clearly intoxicated man took another swig from the glass bottle in his hand. Salkin then wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, before narrowing his eyes at Sollar.

“Man, that hair color a’ yours reminds me of pain for some reason,” the Arbalest mumbled.

“You’re sick, so you should stay away from me,” Sollar said. “So I don’t get sick, too!”

For some reason, Salkin seemed to take offense to that.

“What?” he asked. “I ain’t sick! I... hic... am perfectly healthy!”

“But you threw up!”

Salkin shook his head. “C’mon, you’re pretty! Just... give me a hug...”

He began stumbling forward. Despite the Demonfolk girl’s lack of life experience, she could feel that there was something off about the man in front of her.

Sollar stepped back. Her tail was between her legs, the hooked end of it in a position as though it was ready to strike. But she didn’t even need to strike with it, as Salkin proceeded to make the worst mistake of that day.

He grabbed Sollar’s tail.

The Demonfolk girl jolted up, as though a shock of electricity had just gone through her body. She remained still for a few seconds, before her instincts kicked in.

General Forge looked like he was about to do or say something. Whether it was to grab his halberd off his back or outright tackle Salkin will never be known, as Sollar acted first.

In one fluid motion, Sollar grabbed Shov-ar from her back, spun around on her heels, and slammed the flat side of her glowing shovel directly across the drunken Arbalest’s face.

A loud, metallic bang resonated across the entire street, catching the attention of every single individual within earshot.

Salkin reeled from the hit. He turned around, stumbling from the concussion that was granted to him courtesy of the Demonfolk girl he had just been harassing.

This was followed by him tripping and falling into a wagon filled with ralliens.

Silence permeated the surroundings, as the Demonfolk laborers even paused their work to look at the commotion.

A Demonfolk worker cautiously stepped over to peer into the wagon. He then looked at the others, who were expecting him to say something.

“He is out cold!” the Demonfolk laborer exclaimed. “The Hero Party’s Arbalest has been struck in the face!”

Sollar, in the meanwhile, realized that she did something big. The Demonfolk girl couldn’t figure out if what she did was right or wrong; nobody seemed angry or was chastising her, but she was drawing a lot of attention.

So, she slung her shovel onto her back and began to pace backwards away from the scene. General Forge, likewise, followed her in stepping backwards.

Then, came the sounds of an eruption of voices. General Forge glanced around in panic, as the Demonfolk indentured servants immediately began smashing their own equipment.

And also attacking any Humans that happened to be around, too.

“This is— this is bad!” he exclaimed. He grabbed Sollar by the arm and began to guide her away as all the Demonfolk went mad.

“Sollar! Forge!”

A vaguely familiar voice sounded out, immediately catching the attention of the two.

“Over here!”

It was an older Demonfolk lady, waving the two into a storefront and away from the chaos. Deciding that being in a building would be better than the streets, Sollar ran up to her and into the building, as General Forge followed.

Once the two were in, the Demonfolk woman closed the door behind her. She sighed, glancing out the window on the door, before looking over at the two.

“Sollar, are you alright?” the woman asked.

General Forge furrowed his eyebrows. Something about her appearance was familiar. The Demonfolk woman’s violet braided hair had streaks of gray through it. And those horns, they reminded him of someone.

“Who are you?” General Forge asked.

“I’m Sir Salkin’s secretary,” she replied. “My name is Seyya. I’m currently working under him. But you can probably figure out what I’m here for.”

“What?” Sollar asked.

“Nothing comes to mind, I don’t know who you even are,” General Forge replied. “But you at least waved us off the street.”

Seyya took a moment to realize that neither Sollar nor General Forge even recognized her. So, the Demonfolk woman pulled the glasses off her face with one hand, and with the other proceeded to undo her braided hair.

After letting her hair down, she opened her eyes and smiled at the Demonfolk girl.

“Do you recognize me now?” she asked.

“Wait—” General Forge said. “You’re—!”

A glint of familiarity appeared in Sollar’s eyes.

“Say-say?”

“Yep.

General Seis, the Second Demonfolk General and also known as Seyya, smiled.

“It’s been some time, sweety. How have you been doing?” she asked.

“I’ve been doing good!” Sollar exclaimed. “But there was a lot of things that happened! There was this train, and this water slide, and all these wagons filled with this metal, and—!”

“Hold up!” General Forge exclaimed, interrupting Sollar. “This is where you were, Seis? Working under Salkin, of all people?”

“My disguise was convincing, right?” she asked. “A pair of glasses and a different hairstyle, and nobody recognizes you. Not even the Hero himself.”

“You even met the Hero and he didn’t sniff you out?” General Forge asked.

General Seis nodded. “Yes. What of it?”

“Well... you’re a braver person than I am. But again, what are you doing here?”

“I should say the same to you,” the Demonfolk woman replied. “As for that question, I’m simply being discreet. Blending into the population isn’t all that difficult. I had difficulty recognizing you myself, Forge. Especially the clothes.”

“Oh, these?” General Forge asked. “These are my work clothes.”

General Seis nodded. “Working as labor now? Speaking of, what are you two doing here?”

“To meet Luth-ar!” came Sollar’s immediate reply.

Seis glanced in confusion at Sollar, then looked to General Forge for elaboration.

“Sollar... accidentally took Luth’s crown of succession,” General Forge muttered. “She needs to be in-person to return it. So I proposed to her the idea of meeting her brother... so she can give it back.”

“Ah, so that was the odd sensation I felt a few days back,” General Seis replied. “Indeed, that’s troublesome. I take it the Hero is after her?”

“How’d you figure that out?” Forge asked.

“Intuition.”

A chunk of coal smashed through the window of the room. General Forge and Sollar flinched, while General Seis simply watched the chunk of coal shatter on the ground.

“I witnessed the entire incident,” General Seis continued. “You did a fine job in slapping him, Lady Sollar.”

“Did... did I do something wrong again?” Sollar asked. “When I hit him...”

“No, you did nothing wrong,” General Seis reassured. “Sir Salkin deserved that, for reasons you likely won’t understand. But you did nothing wrong.”

“But people sound mad.”

“Well...”

General Seis didn’t know how to explain to Sollar that her action of hitting Salkin in broad daylight probably kicked off a Demonfolk race riot.

“It just happened at the same time, you had nothing to do with it,” the older Demonfolk woman lied. Her eyes flickered to General Forge, in an attempt to communicate to him that he should play along.

The Demonfolk man got the message.

“Yeah, it’s not your fault, Lady Sollar,” he said. “Uh... we should be getting to the Palace Spire now.”

“Now would be the perfect time, actually,” Seis said. “The local garrison is probably overwhelmed. But do it quickly, before they regain control of the situation.”

“Will do!” General Forge exclaimed. He opened up the door again and gestured to Sollar to follow him.

“Let’s go, Milady, to your brother!”

“Yes!” Sollar yelled, following after the Demonfolk General.

General Seis had a hand on her chin, trying to recall something. It felt like she needed to tell the two one last thing...

“Wait!” Seis exclaimed. She ran over to the door, but both Sollar and General Forge had already departed into the crowd outside. She couldn’t see either of them through the chaos.

“What a mess our little Sollar has made,” General Seis sighed. “But with it comes the perfect opportunity she’s also set up for me.”

Figuring that she wouldn’t be able to catch the two, the Second General decided to take the initiative with her part of the plan that she forgot to notify General Forge of. She pulled from her belt an ornate wooden swagger stick that had the thickness of a fountain pen, and then pulled on the metal end to extend it to an arm’s length.

“I’ll need to organize everyone — now, I hope my skills haven’t gotten rusty. Tut-tut.”

The Demonfolk woman tapped her swagger stick on the nearby wall and then flicked her wrist to twirl it around. The metal end of the item in question began to glow slightly red. She held it up to her eyes, nodded in approval, then swished it down.

Four small balls of condensed violet light formed around General Seis, unmoving yet gathering in strength. They slowly grew in strength, as the glow from the magical singularities grew brighter and brighter. Shadows were cast from where the General stood as they grew in power.

She held that position for a few heartbeats, and without even looking up, swished her swagger stick at the sky.

All four spheres of light blasted off, sending back a gust of wind as they did so. Leaves and scraps of paper were kicked up around General Seis as her dress was battered by the liftoff of her spell.

“Now, that should do for a signal,” she said. Stowing her swagger stick away, the General placed her hands on her hips and turned to look at the mess on the streets. “I best get the rest of the men and women under control before they burn the city down.”

Meanwhile, General Forge and Sollar were running through the now chaos-filled streets. The knights that might’ve been patrolling the streets had been overwhelmed, and there were now clashes between the local Humans and the numerically superior Demonfolk indentured servants.

Some wagons and crates had been set on fire, too. The smell of burning and smoke was far more overwhelming compared to earlier. The pair bypassed an entire storefront that had gone up in flames.

“We might be able to slip in during the chaos...” General Forge said. “What a mess, so much for being discreet.”

No doubt this was going to get the attention of all the Humans. Indentured servant Demonfolk rioting against their Human oppressors? Even if the treaties drawn up after the war weren’t somehow jeopardized, General Riall probably had a lot of work ahead of her.

Finally, the two reached the gates of the Palace Spire. And, despite the chaos, two guards still stood watch at the front gate, a man and a woman.

“Halt! Nobody is allowed to enter!” one of them yelled. They had their swords out, but based on the way their arms shook, it seemed the two were rookies.

General Forge frowned. He didn’t really want to fight at this point, so he stepped forward with his halberd ready.

“Will you two step aside?” General Forge asked.

Both of the knights remained standing, their weapons pointed at the Demonfolk General.

He was undeterred.

“You are two palace guards,” General Forge said, pointing at them. He then pointed at himself. “I am the Third Demonfolk General. I believe we both know who will win, if it comes down to that.”

Both guards faltered, lowering their weapons. They didn’t seem to fully get the memo, so General Forge took a loud stomp forward and immediately channeled plenty of magic into his weapon. The blade of it began to glow red.

“Scram! Go... quell the riots in the city, or something else productive,” he said.

Seeing his feared Mandrel light up, both guards decided that General Forge’s idea suddenly sounded good, and immediately set off into the mess that was the rioting city.

The glow on his halberd faded out, as he watched the two guards scurry away.

“Well, looks like I now gotta break this door down,” he muttered. “Sollar, stand back.”

The blade of General Forge’s halberd glowed again. He gathered his magical energy into the weapon, all while taking a few steps up to the heavy double doors.

It only took one thrust right at the lock at the center of the double doors. The lock shattered into pieces, and what remained clattered to the ground, allowing General Forge to push the doors open.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ve got it. Lady Sollar, go! Go, I’m right behind you.”

The General pushed Sollar through the doors, but she stopped.

“Wait!” she said. “Forr-ar, you should go with me.”

“Milady, I’ll stay behind,” General Forge said.

She cocked her head.

“Why?” she asked. “Don’t you want to meet Luth-ar?”

“No, I do want to meet him,” the General said. “But you’re still being pursued right now. The Hero is no doubt on his way here. Go, meet your brother. I’ll hold off the Hero, to buy you time.”

The Demonfolk girl paused, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“Buy time?” Sollar asked. “We still have money, right?”

“Forget about that, just go! Hurry!”

General Forge, with his newly found sense of urgency, pushed the Demonfolk girl through the gates of the Palace Spire.

Once she was safely through, he turned around, Mandrel in hand. That was the moment that he saw Ronn stepping through the streets, directly towards the gates of the Palace Spire.

“The Hero stole my horn,” he said. “But I won’t let him take Lady Sollar.”

The grip on his poleaxe tightened.