It's pretty fucking tiny

Krystal stared. She'd worked as a camp counselor herself, and this encampment was smaller than the place where harried yuppies had shipped off their little girls for a few weeks in July and August. There couldn't be much more than 50 demonesses here.

"This is the Army of Infernal Renewal?" she asked in amazement. A small warning shock to her cooch reminded her to add "Ma'am."

"Of course not," General Adijah assured her. This is just a training camp." Krystal sighed in relief. "The main army is more than three times this size."

"So our army is 200 women strong," Krystal said. "If you don't mind my asking, General, how big is Garkon's army?"

"Not more than 10,000," Adijah said airily.

Krystal gulped. She'd figured there would be some sort of catch to this deal. She'd never have guessed that it would be this. "How can we fight when we're that outnumbered?" Krystal asked. "Ma'am."

Garkon has other enemies," began Adijah, "so it's not like we have to face all 10,000 at once. Also, we're recruiting all the time. He only adds more slaves to his household, the complacent ass. The odds will even." She smiled. "Besides, the minions he has are stupid -- you saw how easily I drew them away from you. Hit and run tactics will wear away at his forces until we are ready to strike the final blow." A look of hunger that would make a great white shark flinch filled Adijah's eyes. "In a century, perhaps two, I shall upholster my throne with Garkon's flayed skin."

"That's... an awfully long time, Ma'am," said Krystal. It seemed safer than "you're crazy."

"Not for us," Adijah replied. "You're still thinking like a human. We can take a longer view."

"Yes ma'am," said Krystal. The general had a point, after all, and she had rescued Krystal from a much larger **** hunting her down. Maybe she wasn't completely crazy after all. Krystal wasn't willing to bet on that though.

Then she remembered that she'd already pretty much bet her soul on the general being right.