The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis Chapter 6: Dead Men Make the Best Warnings

The next morning, when the sun rose through the trees, shedding light on my new ho, Shadow and I went out to explore.

My world had been confined to the small section that I had determined to be my ho, but if I were going to claim the entire mountain as my territory, then I would have to learn more about it.

It was essential that I knew every ridge, every curve, every tree, plant, bush, and animal. You never knew when that type of knowledge would be the difference between life and death. My goal was to be able to make my way through the woods in the pitch-blackness of night without falling off a cliff and dying.

Dying was definitely not on my list of things to do.

We crossed a narrow pass between two stone ridges and climbed until the trees thinned and even the fog seed hesitant to follow.

When we crested the final ridge, I saw it.

A valley below. Barren and wide. Brown earth that cracked beneath the weight of too many footprints, too much greed, and not nearly enough water. I humd, nodding to myself as I filed that bit of information away. If this side of the mountain was dry, then that ant my side would get all the rain, and that could lead to landslides.

My eyes continued to categorize everything that I saw... including the small walled town that was too loud and too busy for my peace of mind.

The structure of the town itself was one that I had only seen in history books. It was completely walled in on all sides, with a grid-like pattern of streets and buildings. I could only see a single, massive gate in front of , but I knew there had to be another four.

This town was created as a safe haven for the people around, and it was clearly created before the 1200s on earth. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were even older than that.

Standing tall, knowing that no one would be able to see , I narrowed my eyes. From this height, I could make out the gates opening. The sound reached us a few seconds later: cheers, chants, steel boots on packed dirt.

A war party.

n, dozens of them, erged from the wooden gates, marching in neat rows as banners whipped over their heads.

Proud. Confident. Drunk on whatever lies their commanders had fed them to go out and start a war they had no chance of winning.

And they were heading toward my mountain.

Shadow stiffened beside , his nose twitching with unease. But I didn’t move. I watched as they approached the base of the mountain, their laughter and jeers echoing upward like flies buzzing around a corpse.

I hadn’t trapped this side of the mountain yet. My focus had been on my ho, on the garden, and on the building itself. But the mountain? This part... I’d left it open.

That was a mistake I wouldn’t make twice.

I listened as the first of them shouted crude jokes about what they’d do to any civilians they found. They were heading toward a place called Daiyu, they said. The country on the other side of the mountains, one that was completely landlocked and in the center of four other countries. A place that was easy pickings.

Realizing that the country they were talking about was the one I found myself in, I continued to listen to their words, filtering through the filth and to the nuggets of knowledge that I needed.

What I didn’t need to know was the won they wanted to break, and the hos they planned to burn.

They only had four goals. Raping, pillaging, conquering, destroying.

They spoke of it like it was a sport.

War had never bothered . I’d studied enough history to know the cost of power. Even back ho, I thought of soldiers as people who fought for sothing bigger than themselves. They were people you could look up to, those who followed the rules, those who stood for sothing bigger than themselves.

But these n... and I use that word very loosely... they weren’t soldiers.

They were butchers with marching orders.

I rolled my neck, side to side, let the stiffness ease out with each crack and pop.

Wrath stirred inside , that old familiar heat rising in my veins like black smoke. Grandpa was so proud (ha!) when he discovered that a part of his demon lived inside of . It was sothing more than just a set of powers, like it was for so many others, but a separate being that I could call upon when I needed it.

And when I saw the n entering into the place I considered to be my territory, I let a bit of my demon out. It didn’t blind with rage like it did with so others. Instead, it focused .

How generous of them, really, bringing a full war party up the wrong side of the mountain. Helping test this side’s defenses. Letting refine my thods on live subjects.

It was practically a training drill, and I prided myself on excelling at any test and drill that was sent my way.

A part of , probably the part that sounded most like my lust demon mother, whispered that I should let one live in order to send a ssage. She would have advocated for him to run back and tell the others that the mountain belongs to sothing far worse than wolves or storms.

Then again, Mama was too sweet for a demon. She was lucky that she t my Papa before sothing bad had happened to her. Not even my human father would be willing to show rcy for those who didn’t deserve it.

Besides... I’ve never been a "send one ho" kind of girl.

I fell more in line with the rest of my family, and I couldn’t hold back the smile on my face as I watched the unsuspecting army continue to make their way up the mountain that would be their graveyard.

That’s right. I was more of a "make an example out of all of them" type.

After all... dead n make the best warnings.