Athena's General Reincarnated in Another World

Margaery Evenhart:

I had spent the entire day locked in meetings.

The kingdom had summoned its dukes, each accompanied by their three marquises. At my side sat Caelan, Eldric, and... Laurence. The purpose of the summit was clear: how we would deal with the portal crisis next year — and, more importantly, how to present it to the public without triggering mass panic.

The goal wasn't to lie, but to manage perception — to act with composure, to maintain the illusion of full control even as the world beneath us began to crack.

"Throwing prisoners through the portals seems viable," Eldric muttered beside me. "They're going to be executed anyway. At least this gives them a more useful death."

I caught fragments of the conversation while a military strategist at the front explained containment protocols.

"That only buys us time," I cut in. "If the tactic works now, we solve a short-term problem. But what happens when the prisoners run out?"

No one had an answer. The reality was clear: the number of active rifts was increasing exponentially, and we had no precedent for what would happen once they began erupting deeper into the continent.

One of the marquises from a distant duchy shifted in his chair and asked, "What happened to Duke Saul? It's obvious to everyone here something serious occurred… with him, and his son."

At that, a tall man stepped forward. I recognized him immediately — Grand Duke John Asalon, one of the highest-ranking military officials in the realm.

"Duke Saul understands the responsibilities that come with holding a military duchy," he said, voice sharp and heavy. "He will comply with everything discussed here. That said… his absence is due to personal family matters."

A scoff came from another duke. "We're dealing with a continental crisis, John. We all left our comforts behind and submitted to lockdown in this city. Surely no one's personal affairs outrank what's happening now."

John's expression darkened, his brow furrowed. But instead of rising to the bait, he exhaled slowly — then nodded.

"There's another reason you were all summoned," he continued. "Beyond the public narrative and preparations. We need to speak… about the House of Saul."

A murmur passed through the room. Then, with a flick of his hand, a magical panel appeared. It showed first a sketched blueprint, then a blurred photograph.

"During the tower attack, every soldier, mage, and knight stationed in Apsalon was redirected to secure the noble students," John said. "But while we were focused on that… a theft occurred."

He paused to let the words settle.

"One of our hidden installations — disguised as a civilian factory — was breached."

He pointed toward the projection.

"This device... it's not an anti-mana collar. It's not a suppression belt or inhibitor shackles. It's something far more dangerous."

The image showed a massive machine of polished steel, engraved with layered runes and embedded with glowing mana crystals. The structure radiated power, but not the kind that comforted — the kind that repelled, silenced, erased.

"This is a joint project developed in secret by all three kingdoms," he revealed. "Decades in the making. Deemed too unstable to finish. But this — this was the prototype."

He turned to face us fully, voice ironclad.

"A barrier generator… that nullifies all mana."

The room went silent.

And then, as expected—murmurs.

A mana-nullifying barrier?

That… should be impossible.

There were several military technologies designed to suppress mages. The most well-known was the anti-mana shackle — a device that, once locked onto a mage, completely cut off the flow of mana through their channels. It was powered by mana crystals and operated under a closed system.

Only the royal families and their military dukes had access to such equipment. These technologies were exclusive and never shared with outsiders.

"Don't tell me… that's what was stolen," someone muttered from across the room.

"The device was dismantled into large crates," Grand Duke John replied, his tone sharp and unyielding. "Only a handful of people knew about its existence — the three royal families and their highest-ranking military leaders."

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

"You mean people like Duke Saul… and the Halldam family?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm.

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All eyes turned toward me.

John's jaw tightened. "Exactly," he said with thinly veiled anger.

One of the dukes stood up abruptly. "T-this is a disaster! If that thing is ever activated, it could render everyone inside the field completely defenseless!"

"Calm yourself," John snapped. "No one outside of a royal family has the resources to activate that device. Even if they somehow managed to power it on, it wouldn't last more than ten seconds. The mana crystal requirement is... astronomical."

He took a breath and stepped closer to the center.

"Let me explain. The original project aimed to create five anti-mana field generators. But during testing — which was done in a secured location in the demi-human kingdom — three of them exploded. Only two ever functioned properly."

He motioned to the magical display hovering beside him. Several wrecked prototypes appeared in sequence — their twisted metal frames charred, the crystals shattered.

"Of those two working units, one broke down after limited use. The last remaining device was sealed away. We deemed the project nonviable. Why?" He raised an eyebrow and continued before anyone could respond. "Because the production of those five machines drained centuries' worth of resources from all three royal treasuries. And that's just in construction — not activation."

He pointed to the walls. "To keep one of them active for just ten minutes would require enough mana crystals to cover the entire grounds of this estate. For the same investment, we could've produced thousands of anti-mana shackles."

The weight of that statement settled over the room like a shroud.

He snapped his fingers, and the image vanished into darkness. "Now you understand the scope of what's been compromised."

"This is one of the deepest military secrets of the three kingdoms. Our alliance isn't just symbolic. It's built on joint research and development — healing potions, anti-mana suppression tech, and devices like this one."

He crossed his arms, his gaze scanning each of us. "So if you think this theft is a political embarrassment… think again. This is a security breach that could shatter the balance of power."

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances.

"Be advised," Grand Duke John said coldly, "if any of you attempt to transport large crates when you leave the city, our soldiers will inspect them. Every last one."

His gaze swept the room like a blade.

"That device may have other uses to those who stole it. Which is why I'm here to request something else — we want you to leave part of your private forces with us. Once your entourages have departed with the royal caravans, Apsalon will be sealed again. We will begin a forced sweep of every home and business in the city."

His tone was stone.

"No more politeness. No more courtesy. We didn't want this crackdown tied to the image of the crowns, which is why we waited until the monarchs left. Citizens will be invited to step out of their homes. If they refuse… arrests will follow. Force will be used. This theft is an act of war against the Three Realms."

A marquis raised his hand, skepticism lacing his voice. "How can you be sure the device hasn't already left the city? It could've been smuggled out long ago."

"It hasn't," John replied. "Nothing of that size escapes inspection. The city was put under martial law the moment the tower incident happened. We've been watching every gate since."

Murmurs spread again. I could feel the tension growing — not just around me, but inside me.

One of the dukes let out a dry chuckle. "So that's what this is really about… You're preparing us to witness the first public execution of a Duke. Treason of that magnitude will be historic."

John shook his head. "No. Quite the opposite. I'm telling you this so that you understand why Duke Saul will not be executed — and why we won't tolerate judgment from any of you for that decision."

I frowned, surprised.

"William Halldam was the son of a ducal guard under Duke Saul — part of a lineage that has served that house for generations," he said. "To be safe, we removed Duke Saul from command and placed him under surveillance. His men were escorted to what we call… voluntary confinement."

The grand duke's voice was like steel. "But make no mistake — Saul himself is innocent. He and his son are currently in protective custody. Every one of his retainers is being treated as a potential traitor. Not a single soldier under his banner is allowed to move freely in this city — or that duchy."

One of the dukes scoffed. "Absurd. First the academy falls to a demonic attack, now a theft of this scale? And you expect us to believe a Duke wasn't involved? What proof do we have that Duke Saul hasn't sided with the demons?"

John's expression hardened.

"His nephew is an Inquisitor — one of our most trusted forces. And more importantly, both Saul and his son have a personal vendetta against that enemy."

He paused, letting his next words hit like a hammer.

"Ten years ago, Duke Saul's wife — the former High Inquisitor — was left in a vegetative state. She cannot walk, speak, eat, or even relieve herself without assistance. The one responsible for her condition… is the demon known as Lady Sindra."

The room fell silent.

Even I felt the weight of that revelation.

But I couldn't let it pass.

I stood up, unable to contain my outrage.

"You're telling us you knew about this creature ten years ago… and you did nothing?" My voice rose. "You allowed her to roam freely through the kingdoms? To hurt others? What's to stop her from doing the same again — or worse?"

"It's not that simple," Grand Duke John said. His voice had shifted — no longer defensive, but burdened.

"Ten years ago, she was stationed at the border. One of the eight fortresses along the wall. A remote one, near the sea."

He stepped forward, slowly. His gaze swept over us again.

"That was the height of the Fimbulwinter. Visibility was near zero. The roads were frozen death traps, and even flying mounts couldn't pass through the storm."

He folded his hands behind his back.

"That's why we sent an Inquisitor there. It was the harshest point on the wall, and only someone like her could endure it. She brought her son, Viktor Saul, with her — a child born during wartime, raised in frost and silence. That fortress, despite the cold, was considered safe. It had never once been attacked."

He paused.

"Until that night."

A ripple of discomfort passed through the room.

"Everyone in the fortress was slaughtered. The first assault in generations. Only two survived — the Inquisitor… and her son."

John let that sink in.

"The boy was five. He saw it all." His voice dropped.

"He watched as his mother was tortured through the night. Fingers severed. Teeth shattered. Tongue torn out. Her body injected with a venom we still haven't identified."

A murmur of horror spread through the nobles.

"The boy couldn't speak for years. He babbled nonsense, half-mad with fear. But eventually, one word became clear."

He turned, and his eyes sharpened.

"Sindra."

Silence.

"We didn't know who or what that was… until recently. Until we confirmed it. A demon. One strong enough to bring an Inquisitor to her knees."

He stepped back to his place.

"So yes, now you know. The Duke of Saul has spent the last decade caring for a wife who breathes but does not speak, eat, or move without help."

John's tone was final. Cold.

"The Saul family is currently under protection. They relinquished their authority willingly. The capital now oversees their territory."

His eyes scanned the room once more.

"Any further questions?"