Zade could not process the reality of the situation. He looked at her, and then he looked at the empty air.

Zade spoke, his voice completely breathless. "Am I dreaming?"

He needed to check if he was awake. But instead of him pinching himself, he reached out his hand. He pinched Austin’s arm incredibly hard.

"Ouch!" Austin yelled, jumping backward and rubbing his sore arm. "Hey, what was that for? Why didn’t you pinch yourself?"

Zade ignored Austin completely. A massive, incredibly excited smile broke out across Zade’s face. His shock instantly turned into hero worship.

Zade continued speaking, looking at Camilla with shining eyes.

"You are really awesome, sister," Zade praised her loudly, stepping closer to her. "You are practically my absolute hero! Did you see how you kicked his leg? It was amazing!"

Zade placed his right hand over his heart, making a completely serious, unbreakable vow of loyalty.

"From now on," Zade promised firmly, "I will always, always listen to you. If you tell me to go left, I will go completely left. If you tell me to go right, I will go completely right. I won’t ever disappoint you."

Austin, who was still rubbing his pinched arm, saw Zade praising the deadly assassin. Austin wanted to be protected by her too.

Austin quickly stepped forward. He too spoke, nodding his head rapidly.

"I want to be your brother too," Austin declared eagerly, looking at Camilla with hopeful eyes. "And I will do exactly what he said! I will go left and right too!"

Zade’s happy smile vanished instantly. He turned his head and glared absolute daggers at Austin.

"You want to snatch my sister right in front of me?" Zade demanded angrily, pushing Austin slightly backward. "I am my sister’s only brother! Go and find another one! You cannot have her!"

Camilla rubbed her forehead. A small headache was starting to form behind her eyes.

She was completely, utterly tired of their foolish bickering. It had been an incredibly long, exhausting day of fighting, lying, and planning. She just wanted to go home take her bath, eat and sleep in her massive, soft bed.

Furthermore, she noticed that the sun was almost completely gone. The sky was turning a very dark blue. It would soon get very, very dark.

Camilla dropped her hands from her face. She looked at the two young men with her coldest, most dangerous sister stare.

"Listen to me carefully," Camilla warned them softly, her voice dropping into a deadly, quiet tone.

She pointed a finger at the dirt road leading out of the camp.

"If I count to three," Camilla threatened smoothly, "and you two are still standing here bothering me... your legs are going home with me in a separate bag."

Zade and Austin completely stopped arguing. They gasped loudly in horror. They looked at her twin daggers hanging on her belt. They knew she was absolutely serious.

Camilla closed her eyes. She took a deep, slow breath.

"One," Camilla started counting quietly.

She heard the immediate sound of dirt scuffling.

"Two," Camilla continued.

She heard the sound of boots running frantically away as fast as possible.

"Three," Camilla finished.

She opened her eyes.

The dirt path was completely empty. A small cloud of dust was settling in the air where Zade and Austin had just been standing. They had run away so fast they looked like two frightened rabbits.

Camilla smiled a small, satisfied smile.

"Much better," she whispered to herself.

She turned around and walked quietly to get her horse. She found her quiet horse, untied the reins, and mounted smoothly into the leather saddle.

She rode out of the military camp, keeping to the dark shadows of the trees so the regular soldiers would not see her face.

She rode home. The journey took about an hour. The cool night wind felt wonderful against her tired face. She patted her chest occasionally, feeling the thick, comfortable stack of one hundred thousand gold in paper bank notes resting safely inside her uniform. It had been the most profitable day of her transmigrated life.

As she finally got home to the Benson estate, the night was completely dark.

She rode her horse quietly through the large, open iron gates. She walked the horse slowly toward the large stables located at the back of the property.

She noticed immediately that the mansion was glowing brightly. Mr. Murry had already lit up the whole house with bright warm light.

Dozens of oil lamps and candles burned in every single window, making the massive stone building look very welcoming.

Camilla led her horse into a quiet stall. She took off the leather saddle and gave the tired horse some fresh water and hay.

She planned her next move. She was still wearing her completely black, tight combat uniform.

"I need to sneak in through the back kitchen door," Camilla thought to herself, brushing dust off her black sleeves. "If Uncle Murry sees me dressed like a deadly shadow assassin, he will probably have a heart attack. I will go straight up the back stairs, wash my face, and change back into my evening dress before anyone notices."

She pulled the black cloth back up over her nose and mouth, just in case a maid was walking in the garden. She looked exactly like a suspicious, dangerous intruder.

As Camilla was just preparing to step out of the shadows of the stable and enter inside the house, she suddenly heard a loud, familiar sound.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

It was the steady sound of large horse hooves hitting the stone pavement of the courtyard.

Camilla froze completely inside the stable. She wanted to know who was that. She walked to the front of the courtyard,pressing her back tightly against the wall, hiding herself in the deepest shadows.

She peeked carefully around the edge of the wall.

She saw a black warhorse entering the bright courtyard. Riding tall in the leather saddle was the General.

Damon had just arrived home.

Camilla’s eyes widened in panic. Her heart started hammering wildly against her ribs.

"Why is he here?" Camilla thought to herself frantically, her mind racing with confusion.

"Is he not supposed to sleep in the camp tonight?" Camilla wondered, pressing herself harder against the wall. "Why did he ride all the way back to the city?"

She looked down at her black combat uniform. She touched the twin steel daggers hanging from her belt.

"This is terrible," Camilla panicked. "If he sees me right now, dressed exactly like the fighter from the death match... if he knows I was the one who defeated that giant mercenary and took his hundred thousand gold... it absolutely won’t be good. He will be furious that I sneaked out. He will know I am an assassin. He might arrest me!"

Out in the courtyard, Damon pulled his black warhorse to a smooth stop.

He was incredibly tired. The long day of strategy meetings, watching his best man train, and watching the death match had completely exhausted his mind. But after winning the land back, he had felt a strange, sudden desire to simply come back to the quiet mansion.

Damon swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted smoothly. His boots hit the stone.

He took the leather reins in his hand, intending to walk his tired horse into the stables to rest.

Damon took three steps toward the stables.

Suddenly, Damon stopped walking. His sharp, highly trained military eyes noticed a strange movement in the deep shadows.

Damon narrowed his eyes. He looked very closely into the dark area.

Because the bright light from the mansion windows spilled slightly across the courtyard, it illuminated a tiny section of the entrance.

Damon saw a slim figure moving in the shadows.

Damon’s hand immediately dropped to the hilt of his broadsword resting on his hip. He instantly assumed a dangerous assassin had broken into his home.

But then, Damon looked closer.

He looked at the height of the figure. He looked at the specific, delicate shape of the eyes shining in the shadows above the black cloth mask. He looked at the few strands of bright red curly hair that had escaped from the dark hood.

Damon completely froze. His hand slowly slipped off the hilt of his sword.

A wave of confusion washed over his face. He stared at the figure in the dark.

Damon thought to himself, his mind completely unable to process the ridiculous, impossible reality right in front of him.

"Why does that shadow..." Damon wondered internally, his dark eyes wide with complete shock. He stared at the red hair and the beautiful eyes. "...look exactly like Camilla?"

Damon moved forward.

"Is she supposed to be inside resting?" Damon asked himself, completely bewildered. "What is my wife doing hiding in the darkness dressed exactly like my champion fighter?"