The battlefield had fallen silent, at least for the moment. The dust and smoke from the explosions hung heavy in the air, thick and choking, but the last of the insurgents had been pushed back. Camilla stood amidst the wreckage, her heart pounding in her chest, her body weary and bruised from the hours of constant motion. The weight of everything—the blood, the lives lost, the lives saved—settled heavily on her shoulders, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.
Her eyes scanned the chaos. Wounded soldiers were being dragged to the rear, medics working furiously to stabilize them. The smell of blood was thick in the air, mixing with the acrid scent of smoke. There was no time to reflect, no time to mourn. The battle wasn't over yet.
A sudden jolt of pain shot through her chest as she moved tow
