The further the Demons got pushed back, the more of humanity's last fighting force would see the pole. Hoisted like a mocking flag or standard. Tied to the pole was a woman in rags. Every visible inch of her body was covered in scars and wounds in various stages of healing. Many of them looked fresh. Her arms were tied behind the pole. Both of her legs had been cut off at the knee and there were telltale burn marks of the wounds being cauterized so this poor wretched woman's life could be prolonged until this day.

To most of the footsoldiers, they may have thought this woman was meant to be some kind of provocative trophy. An ordinary citizen turned into a mindgame. There was not a trace of a noble lady in her messy blood-matted hair or the dull eyes that had long since given up feeling. But every Klaides on that battlefield would recognise their relative. This was Sherry Klaides. The Deserter. The Villainess who abandoned and fled the Capital. The wicked woman who's whole life had been built of the backs of other people she cruelly used and discarded. How far she had fallen, and her fate was so visibly sickening there wasn't even any satisfaction to be felt from it. Only pity.

Sherry didn't meet anybody's eye. Not even her father's. She had helt out some slim hope that the ships would manage to set sail and humanity would have some hope for revenge one day. But she'd overheard the plan. She already knew that the demons were aiming for the ships. For the comple extermination of this country, it's women and children. And she hated that everything was going to plan. She hated demons. She tried to fight back and they tossed her around like a doll. She tried to flee and they cut her legs off. All demons deserved to die for what they'd done to her, and to this country. And everything was going their way.

Sherry had close to a year to reflect in prison, about how it was her actions that had put her there. If her sentence had been carried out to full, she may have even eventually developed remorse and shame. But now all she regretted was that she hadn't trained harder. She could at least have stayed at the head of the army during the battle at the Capital. Back then, she feared death. Now, a chance to die with a sword in her hand, taking as many demons to hell with her as she could, was something she'd sell her soul for.