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The aftermath of the battle was, frankly, a bit awkward. I have no regrets—I did what I believed was best as a commander of the Demon Lord’s army. But that doesn’t mean I feel nothing about the number of lives lost.
Still, when they came charging in like that, in such numbers and with full armament, it was obvious there was no room for negotiation.
If talking could’ve solved it, life would be a lot easier.
That said, it still weighs on me.
Who the hell came up with such a reckless plan on their side?

Only three werewolves from my unit were seriously wounded—those who took direct hits from arrows.

“You three fought bravely. Don’t worry, you’ll heal up soon.”

I praised them while casting healing magic on their injuries.
A few others had minor scratches, but everyone else looked fine. That’s werewolves for you.

After leaving the cleanup to Jerich, I hurried back to the main gate. Something had been bothering me.

“Ah, Boss.”

Monsa greeted me with a troubled look. Just as I’d suspected.

“Look at these guys. They were sneaking around the area with knives.”

At her feet sat several men, forced into sitting positions. Scattered nearby were silver-handled knives.

Their faces were badly swollen and bruised, so I asked Monsa cautiously:

“Didn’t you go a bit overboard?”
“They tried to run, so just a little bit.”

She smiled sweetly. Despite her laid-back nature, Monsa always carries out her brutal work with the same casual ease.

I questioned the men.

“Who are you?”

They immediately snapped back.

“We just came to check out the noise!”
“There were werewolf howls—we were terrified!”
“Explain yourselves!”

They were awfully feisty for suspects.

“Alright, then why were you carrying knives?”

They fell silent.
Lüenheit law forbids ordinary citizens from carrying weapons, but kitchen knives or similar tools are allowed as part of daily life.
I picked up one of their knives and drew it from its silver-inlaid sheath.

“Hm…”

The blade was also made of silver. A beautiful floral pattern had been engraved—clearly the work of a skilled dogfolk craftsman.
Every knife I checked had a silver blade.
Silver is soft and heavy. It’s not suited for actual use.

Problem was, among humans, there’s a belief that “werewolves can only be harmed by silver weapons.”
Humans spread the lie that “dogfolk corrupt silver,” but this is the reverse.
It was actually werewolves who spread the silver myth.
If humans believe only silver works, they’ll attack us using flimsy, weak silver weapons.

I glared down at the men.

“You were planning something, weren’t you?”

No reply. I added a touch of menace to my voice.

“You don’t use silver knives for cooking or packing. What were you carrying them for? Speak.”

Still silent. I bared my fangs.

Their faces were blank, but their fear was obvious—the scent of fear-sweat was in the air.

Finally, one of them opened his mouth.

“F-For cutting paper… opening letters.”
“Letters?”

A letter opener, huh? I mean, sure—silver is soft, so that might actually work.
But seriously? That’s a bit extravagant.
Who’s buying this?

“So, when you heard chaos outside, you brought along your letter openers just in case?”

I gave a dry laugh.
They said nothing.
So I raised my voice, loud enough for the nearby residents to hear:

“Investigate these men thoroughly. Then hand them over to the city governor. Let her decide their fate.”

I made sure to frame it as leaving the final judgment to the governor.

Monsa’s squad restrained the men and took them away.

Watching them leave, Skudl asked me; “Are you sure with that, Veit? The governor’s human. She might go easy on them.”

The young werewolf clearly didn’t like this decision.

I gave a troubled look and replied: “It can’t be helped. If we start executing civilians, we’ll only stir resentment. These guys are suspicious, but they haven’t actually done anything yet.”

“I guess… but still…”

Skudl didn’t look convinced. Naturally.
Demons don’t usually care about appeasing the weak. Even the slightest hint of rebellion is reason enough for a massacre.

But doing that now would definitely backfire later.

“Humans are soft. They hold grudges easily. But if we show a bit of mercy, it makes them easier to control. Believe me, I want to kill them myself.”
“…Got it.”

He still didn’t look totally satisfied, but Skudl’s a werewolf. He might voice objections, but he’ll follow the boss’s decision.

“Just leave it to me. I’ll handle it in a way that benefits us the most.”
“Yes, sir!”

When I clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, he finally gave a small smile in return.

At that moment, the gates opened again and Jerich returned.
I’d sent him to inspect the battlefield, and it looked like he was finished.

“Something’s off, boss. Take a look at this—silver-tipped arrows.”

He held out one of the enemy’s arrows.
Looking closely, the arrowhead was indeed made of silver.
Jerich flicked it with a finger and scoffed.

“This is cast silver. They probably melted coins to make it. Sloppy work—wasn’t even forged properly.”

I thought for a moment.

“These were clearly made for fighting werewolves.”
“No doubt. Silver’s softer than iron—no one would use it for a real weapon unless they had a specific target.”
“Which means the Tübahn forces knew werewolves were here?”
“No idea how they knew. All I know is thanks to those fragile arrowheads, our injuries were light.”

Jerich shrugged.
He was a blacksmith through and through.

But I didn’t have that luxury. Arms crossed, I muttered:

“How did the Tübahn army know werewolves were in Lüenheit?”

Since taking the city, we’ve completely restricted human movement.
Only the dogfolk caravans are allowed out—and they only go to areas under the Demon Lord’s control.
So there should’ve been no way for intel to leak to Tübahn.

“…Something’s not right.”

As I looked out at Lüenheit, a creeping unease settled over me.
There must’ve been a leak somewhere.

Then the gates opened again, and Wott’s squad returned.

“We went to honor the dead. Never thought I’d be giving rites to humans.”
“Thanks, old man Wott.”

Though he’s a peaceful retiree now, Wott was once a mercenary.
He’s fought in many human wars, blending in among their ranks.

“Anyway, Veit—take a look at this.”

The battle-hardened white wolf held a bow he’d picked up from the battlefield.

“This? One of the enemy’s bows?”
“That’s right. But it’s a bit small, see.”

He chuckled as he explained:

“This is a shortbow meant for cavalry. But even for that, it’s unusually compact—not made for open-field combat.”
“…For urban fighting, then?”
“Looks that way.”

According to Wott, the Tübahn cavalry were using bows optimized for maneuverability in tight spaces.
They had reduced range and power, but were ideal for fighting in narrow city streets.

“You’re telling me they’re not suited for sieges?”
“Not at all. In fact, none of their gear seemed designed for siege warfare. It’s like they only planned for what happens after getting inside.”

That gave me a jolt.

Attacking with only 400 troops must’ve meant they had a way to breach the gates.
And then—those silver-knife men we just caught.
I’d left two squads under Monsa’s command to secure the gate, suspecting insider involvement.
Seems I was right.

Tübahn’s likely strategy was this:
They assumed the Demon Lord’s army wouldn’t be deployed outside the walls.
So they organized their force accordingly:
50 silver-arrow cavalry: to fight werewolves in the city.
350 infantry: a follow-up force to secure and occupy the city.
That explains why the cavalry charged in first.

They would storm the north gate, opened by collaborators.
Once inside, the cavalry would spread through the streets and plazas, using hit-and-run tactics to shoot silver arrows at the werewolves.
Lüenheit’s broad avenues and open plazas, built for trade, made for perfect cavalry terrain.
After softening us up, the infantry would enter and overwhelm the dogfolk with sheer numbers—recapturing the city.
That must be their plan.

However, many of their assumptions were incorrect, causing their plan and forces to fall apart.
If they launched this operation without proper reconnaissance, their commander must be incompetent—or maybe there were some other circumstances that forced them to take this approach.
In hindsight, I should’ve captured someone alive for interrogation.

I tend to go a little too wild when my werewolf blood gets excited …