The logic was sound but the exhaustion was real.

Even demon physiology had limits, and two weeks of forty-mile daily marches was pushing those limits.

---

Day eleven brought them to abandoned Radiant fortress that was significantly more impressive than previous positions. This had been major installation—stone walls thirty feet high, towers that overlooked miles of terrain, fortifications that suggested it had been regional command center.

And sitting in the middle of its courtyard, deliberately obvious, was fresh intelligence cache.

"It's bait," Zara said immediately. "Documents left where we'll find them. Either false intelligence meant to mislead us, or accurate intelligence meant to lure us into position where we can be observed or attacked."

"Or," Liam countered, "it's intelligence they want us to have because knowing certain information serves their strategic purpose." He studied the cache from distance. "Fourth Order—can you retrieve that without triggering whatever trap might be present?"

"Already checking for magical triggers and physical traps." Kael'thra's voice carried professional caution. "The cache is warded but not aggressively. More like they wanted to slow us down than actually prevent access."

Twenty minutes later, Fourth Order operatives had retrieved the cache and delivered it to command tent where Liam, Lilith, and senior commanders could examine contents.

Detailed maps of Radiant Empire defensive positions. Troop deployment schedules. Supply chain documentation. Communication protocols.

Far too valuable to be accidentally left behind.

"They want us to have this," Lilith said with certainty. "Question is why. What advantage does giving us their defensive intelligence provide them?"

"Either the intelligence is false and they want us to plan based on incorrect assumptions," Zara analyzed, "or the intelligence is true and they're confident their defenses will hold regardless of our knowledge."

"Or," Torven added grimly, "the intelligence is true because they've already changed their defensive positions and this represents disposable information about deployments they've abandoned."

All three possibilities were concerning for different reasons.

Liam studied the documents carefully, his tactical mind processing what was presented versus what might be deliberately obscured.

The intelligence was detailed. Professional. Exactly the kind of comprehensive documentation that military command would maintain.

Which made it most likely to be genuine but outdated.

"Assume the intelligence is accurate but represents positions from two weeks ago," he decided. "Use it for general understanding of their defensive philosophy and strategic priorities. Don't rely on it for tactical assault planning because they've almost certainly repositioned since these documents were current."

"That's... cautious but reasonable," Lilith approved. "Treat enemy gift with appropriate suspicion while extracting useful information."

The documents were distributed to legion commanders with explicit warnings about reliability.

Information that might be useful for understanding how Radiant Empire military thought. Not reliable enough to base assault planning on.

---

Day twelve brought them past the midpoint of no-man's land and into territory that was becoming progressively more contested.

The abandoned Radiant outposts were more recent here. Some showed evidence of having been occupied within the last week.

"They're watching us," Kael'thra reported. "Fourth Order eliminated observation team yesterday that had been tracking our movement for three days. They'd set up hidden position and were using magical communication to report our progress."

"Did you intercept their communications before eliminating them?"

"Yes. They'd been reporting troop estimates, movement speed, command structure observations. The Radiant Empire knows we're coming. Knows approximately how many troops we have. Knows we're moving faster than traditional army would."

So operational security was partially compromised. Not unexpected—moving two hundred thousand demons wasn't exactly subtle. But having confirmation that enemies knew details was concerning.

"How accurate were their estimates?" Liam asked.

"They underestimated our strength by approximately fifteen percent. Reported one hundred seventy thousand troops instead of two hundred thousand." Kael'thra's voice carried satisfaction. "Either their observation was poor or we successfully obscured some legion formations."

"Or they're reporting lower numbers than they actually observed to make their command underestimate our strength." Lilith's paranoia was justified. "Could be intelligence game—report false information through channels they know we're monitoring."

The complications were exhausting.

Every piece of intelligence required evaluation for accuracy, motive, strategic purpose. Nothing could be taken at face value when both sides were actively trying to mislead each other.

"Maintain current pace," Liam decided. "We're past the point where operational security matters. They know we're coming. Might as well arrive before they finish whatever preparations our approach has prompted."

Evening of day twelve found Liam alone in his tent, reviewing reports that all said the same thing: everything was proceeding according to plan.

Casualties remained minimal. Morale was holding despite aggressive march pace. Supply situation was adequate.

Everything working. Everything functional.

Which continued to feel wrong. Like they were marching toward trap that hadn't sprung yet because timing wasn't right.

A knock at his tent entrance interrupted the circular thinking.

"Come in."

Lilith entered, looking tired in ways that even her composed bearing couldn't fully mask.

She was dressed simply—practical traveling clothes rather than formal attire, her snow-white hair loose around her shoulders instead of styled elaborately.

Liam noticed he was noticing that. Forced his attention back to tactical documents.

"You're overthinking," she observed, moving to study the maps spread across his field table. "That's concerning twelve days into march. Usually brooding waits until actual combat begins."

"I'm calculating. Running scenarios. Trying to determine if everything working smoothly is genuine success or elaborate setup for catastrophic failure."

"Can't it be both? Genuine tactical success that's marching us toward strategic catastrophe?" She pulled up chair, sat with familiar ease that came from spending weeks in close operational proximity. "The march is succeeding. We're moving fast through territory we control. Minimal casualties. Good morale. That's real success."

"That's prelude to real fighting. This is easy part."

"Then enjoy easy part while it lasts. Gods know difficulty comes soon enough." She reached for documents he'd been studying, her hand briefly brushing his in the transfer.

The contact was incidental. Meaningless. Lasted maybe half a second.

And Liam's awareness of it was completely disproportionate to its significance.

He'd been in close proximity to Lilith for months.

Had spent countless hours in strategy sessions. Had trained with her regularly where physical contact was constant and necessary.

But something about the casual intimacy of being alone together in his tent, both tired and stripped of formal roles, made that half-second of contact feel weighted.

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