The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis
Chapter 78: Let Your Demons Out

Chapter 78: Let Your Demons Out

I didn’t care about the army coming from behind. Shi Yaozu said that it was the Red Demons, and I trusted him.

What I couldn’t take my eyes away from was the army marching toward us from the east. While the pounding of the hooves caused my heart to beat in rhythm, it was the sea of red that made my breath catch in my throat.

An ocean of crimson and steel, flooding the horizon like the world itself had cracked open. The combined armies of Chixia and Yelan descended from the hills, moving as one, their banners of red and yellow catching the light like blood-slick wings. Rows upon rows of soldiers marched in lockstep—so many that I couldn’t see where they ended. They stretched from one end of the valley to the other, a wall of death so deep and wide it drowned the landscape.

They weren’t a force.

They were a flood.

"Fuck," Shi Yaozu grunted beside me. It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t amused. It was the sound of a man who saw the end rushing at him and realized there might not be a way to stop it. I felt it, too—the tightening in his shoulders, the subtle shift of weight in his stance. It was clear that he was concerned. No. That wasn’t the right word... he was scared.

"This isn’t them testing the waters," he said, voice low and tight as he looked up at the sky for a moment. "This is a full-frontal assault. Daiyu doesn’t know. Even with the Red Demons coming, we’re so vastly outnumbered we won’t even be able to withstand the first line of attack."

"Come again?" I asked, eyes fixed on the enemy pouring like liquid iron from the hills.

"We’re talking hundreds of thousands against maybe two thousand, if we’re lucky," Yaozu growled. He adjusted his grip on the sword in his right hand and, without hesitation, formed a second in his left. The earth rippled beneath his feet.

I didn’t look at him. I didn’t need to.

"You need to run. Now," he said, stepping in front of me. "Get on Shadow. Head north. I’ll try to hold them off long enough for you to reach the capital. You have to warn the Crown Prince. If Daiyu is going to survive, they need to prepare."

The sickening weight in my stomach twisted, low and sharp.

"You’re worried," I said flatly. It was almost as if my brain was short-circuiting over the idea that my ice guard was actually experiencing emotions... and not good ones at that.

He turned his head slightly, and I caught the briefest flicker of softness in his eyes as he looked at me. "I’m terrified," he admitted. Then the softness was gone as if it had never been there, only to be replaced by shadows.

"Now go," he barked. "Before it’s too late. The entire Daiyu Empire depends on you right now."

"Nope," I said, cracking my neck from side to side as something stirred in my chest. Not one voice, but three. Lust perked up like a child offered candy. Wrath rolled her shoulders, cracking phantom knuckles as she calculated just how much blood she could spill. Even Pride stirred with interest.

"We’re not going to be playing that game."

Yaozu frowned. "Xinying—"

"You leave," I cut in, voice calm, final. "I’ll take care of this."

A long breath left my chest as the mist began to curl at my ankles—slow, sentient, tasting the air like a dog catching the scent of blood. The ground itself seemed to hold its breath.

"I promise you," I whispered to him. "Nothing will happen to you. Or Deming."

Shadow growled low beside me. Not fear. Anticipation.

Far ahead, the combined army paused. The front lines shifted uneasily. One soldier raised a hand to shade his eyes, trying to see what stood at the center of the field.

I smiled.

They don’t recognize us, Lust murmured. And here was me thinking that we were something special.

"They will," I replied, out loud this time. My voice caused Yaozu to look over at me with concern.

The first wave surged forward—Chixia in the lead, Yelan flanking from the east. Dust rose in columns. Hooves thundered. Shields slammed together in rhythm, chanting war cries that echoed across the plain.

And still, I stood.

"Daiyu will fall," Yaozu muttered, more to himself than me. "This is a massacre."

"No," I said softly. "Not in the way you are worried about."

The mist thickened, spreading like ink in water. Not fast. Not aggressive.

Teasing.

Lust was even closer to the surface now—too close for my peace of mind.

They think they can touch what belongs to us, she snarled. They think they can take our men. Our power. Our name.

My fingers twitched.

"Xinying—" Yaozu stepped closer, trying to shield me from the attack, but I turned to him slowly.

"Trust me," I purred. "This is nothing. Okay? You will be completely safe."

His jaw flexed, but he nodded once, then stepped back.

A single tendril of mist slid across the field.

It reached the boots of the first Chixia man.

He laughed, waving his sword at it like it was smoke.

Then he screamed.

His armor split at the seams, not with fire or blade, but with rot. His skin boiled, peeling in strips like paper soaked in oil. His scream died as his throat collapsed inward, eaten from within.

Panic rippled through the front line.

"Poison!" someone shouted.

They pulled back. Tripped over one another.

Too late.

The mist stretched like a predator waking from a long nap.

And then, for a heartbeat, it paused—hovering just beyond the reach of the soldiers.

Waiting.

One, Lust whispered inside me.

The mist slithered forward, encircling the feet of another man.

Two...

He flailed, trying to escape.

Three.

A rush of black swallowed him whole.

"All eyes on me," Lust purred, using my mouth.

A chorus of screams followed. One man dropped to the ground, convulsing. Another turned to run—his foot caught, mist dragging him down, his armor buckling under unseen pressure.

I could feel their fear. Their confusion. Their desperation.

And it was intoxicating.

I blinked, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I was the one thinking... or if I was just watching.

Lust smiled through my lips.

"This is just the beginning," she whispered.

The armies hesitated. Chixia, Yelan, even the Red Demons—none of them moved.

They watched.

And that was the mistake.

Because watching meant waiting.

And waiting meant dying.

The mist didn’t surge. Not yet. It crept. Circled. Sliced.

It brushed armor, kissed skin, dragged nails across throats before vanishing again.

Soldiers dropped one by one.

Some tried to flee. They didn’t make it far.

Shadow darted forward, jaws clamping down on the leg of a retreating horse. The beast went down screaming, crushing the rider beneath it.

Blood sprayed.

And still, the field was silent—except for the dying.

Then the second army crested the ridge—Yelan, in full force.

Tens of thousands more.

Yaozu turned his head sharply. "They just keep coming."

"They’re not here for strategy," I said quietly. "They’re here to end it."

His fists clenched. "And what are we supposed to do?"

I glanced at him.

Then I smiled.

"I think I’ll show you just what it means to let your demons out."