《BannerLord VR》 1. From Memory to Reality It was a cold and foggy morning, that creeps into your bones and makes you feel like the world has slowed to a crawl. I had been holed up in my house for the last three days, completely engrossed in a VR game called Blast. Not only had I managed to finish it, but I also accomplished something no one else had¡ªcompleting every achievement the game had to offer. The first to do so. For most people, that might just be another trophy on their gaming profile, but for me, it was something more. Games have always been my escape, a way to find a sense of purpose in the chaos of life. After what happened to my family five years ago, gaming became my only refuge. It was in the spring of 2030, a day that started so beautifully. My father, mother, little brother, and I were heading out for a day together¡ªjust a simple family outing. But that day, I lost them all. A car accident that still haunts me, a tragedy that shattered everything. Since then, gaming has been the only thing that makes sense to me, the only thing I can control. As I sat in my dimly lit room, memories of that day began to resurface. My fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of my VR headset as I lost myself in the past. The pain was still there, buried under layers of distractions, but never gone. Just as the weight of the memories was starting to overwhelm me, the doorbell rang, jolting me back to the present. I wasn¡¯t expecting anyone. Hesitant, I stood up and made my way to the door. A delivery agent stood there, holding a sleek package in his hands. I signed for it without much thought, but when I saw the label, my heart skipped a beat. The package was from the developers of Bannerlord VR. It had been only a few days since I¡¯d registered for the early access beta, and here it was¡ªmy ticket to nostalgia. I felt an unexpected lump in my throat as I held the box in my hands. Bannerlord... My father and I used to play the original game together when I was younger. I could still remember the late nights, sitting side by side, commanding armies and conquering kingdoms. It was one of the few memories I had of us being truly happy. The realization hit me hard, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself tearing up. It wasn¡¯t just a game. It was a connection to the life I¡¯d lost. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I shook my head, trying to push the emotions down. Not now, I told myself. I was hungry¡ªstarving, actually¡ªbut the urge to dive into this game was stronger than my appetite. I carefully unwrapped the package, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation, and loaded the game onto my console. As soon as it booted up, the familiar logo appeared, accompanied by a haunting, orchestral soundtrack that sent shivers down my spine. The game began with a dramatic prologue, narrating the rise and fall of the once-mighty Calradian Empire. Its glory had been eroded by corruption and greed, and now the empire was splintered into warring factions. As the voiceover ended, I was transported to the character creation screen, where I could shape my avatar and choose a faction to align with. I moved my hands through the different factions, examining their unique buffs and debuffs, weighing my options. But something felt off. My vision began to blur, and strange blue lines flickered across the screen. At first, I thought it was just a minor bug¡ªsomething you¡¯d expect in a beta release¡ªbut the glitch persisted. It was strange, almost too soon to encounter an issue like this. Then, without warning, everything changed. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and suddenly I found myself standing in a bustling marketplace. My hands instinctively clenched, but there was no controller. No VR headset. No screen. Just me, standing in the middle of a chaotic market surrounded by merchants hawking their wares, animals braying, and people moving around as if I were just another person in their world. My first reaction was frustration. I was convinced the game had bugged out, transporting me from the character creation screen into some in-game environment without finishing the setup. "Really?" I muttered under my breath, already feeling the disappointment sink in. I¡¯d had high hopes for Bannerlord VR, but this kind of bug was ridiculous. I decided it was time to log off, grab some breakfast, and come back later when I was less irritated. But when I lifted my hands to access the menu... nothing. No options, no interface, no log-off button. Panic started to creep in as I looked around, trying to find something¡ªanything¡ªthat could explain what was happening. I reached for my headset, but it wasn¡¯t there. My heart raced. The merchants continued their business as if I wasn¡¯t even there, their voices blending into a blur of incomprehensible noise. Slowly, the realization hit me. I wasn¡¯t in my room anymore. I wasn¡¯t in front of my console. I was inside the game. 2. Factions of a Divided Land After several failed attempts to log off, I slowly came to terms with an unsettling realization¡ªI was trapped in the game. No matter how many times I swiped at the air, trying to summon the menu or find an exit, there was nothing. It was as if the world outside had ceased to exist. At first, I felt the familiar rush of panic, my heart pounding as I tried again and again, my fingers moving through the air in the vain hope of finding an escape. But eventually, the truth settled in like a heavyweight: I wasn¡¯t getting out. Surprisingly, though, I didn¡¯t feel regret. I wasn¡¯t consumed with fear or anger. If anything, there was a strange calm washing over me. The truth was, I had no attachments in the real world. No one would worry if I disappeared, and no one waiting for me on the other side of the screen. My parents, my little brother¡ªthey were all gone. The friends I once had had drifted away, and in recent years, I had become more of a ghost than a person. I wasn¡¯t living; I was existing. So being trapped in this game didn¡¯t feel like a prison. It felt like a new start. Whatever had brought me here, I accepted it. I didn¡¯t know why I¡¯d been chosen or how this had even happened, but I decided I wouldn''t dwell on the mystery of it. There was something else that mattered now: survival. The game world had its own rules, and if I was going to make it here, I needed to play by them. The first step was assessing what I had. I took stock of my belongings¡ªmeagre as they were. I had a couple of loaves of bread, still fresh enough to eat, and a small waterskin. There was also a sword at my hip, sheathed in a scabbard that looked worn but reliable. A quick check of my pouch revealed around 1,000 denars. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to get by for now. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have any sort of magical inventory system like you¡¯d expect in most VR games. There was no convenient way to store my items. I had to carry them physically, in my hands or on my person. It was a small but harsh reminder that this world operated differently from what I was used to. I tried opening various menus¡ªcharacter stats, inventory, encyclopedia, anything that might give me more control over my situation. But there was nothing. No pop-up windows, no floating icons. It seemed like all the tools I¡¯d expect a protagonist in one of these ¡°trapped-in-a-game¡± stories to have were unavailable to me. It was just me, my sword, some bread, and the world ahead. Feeling the gnawing hunger in my stomach, I tore off a chunk of bread and chewed thoughtfully, washing it down with a few gulps of water. I needed to figure out where I was and what my next move should be. The good news was that the world of Bannerlord was something I already knew¡ªat least to some extent. The layout of the land, the factions, the cities, and the history were all embedded in my memory from the countless hours I¡¯d spent playing the original game. If this world matched what I remembered, I could navigate it. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. Over the next few hours, I mingled with the traders, listening to their conversations. They spoke about the political state of Calradia, the factions vying for power, and the dangers that lay in every corner of the land. Piece by piece, the information came together, and to my surprise, it matched what I remembered from my time playing the game. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. To the south, across the vast desert, lay the Aserai. They were traders, masters of commerce and negotiation. Though their lands were harsh, their caravans controlled the flow of goods in and out of the southern reaches of Calradia. To the west were the Vlandians, a faction that had once been a band of pirates before they gained dominance over the fertile lands. Their strength lay in their knights and crossbowmen, formidable in both melee and ranged combat. Further east, in the grassy steppes, lived the Khuzaits. A coalition of nomadic tribes, they were unparalleled horse archers, capable of raining arrows down upon their enemies while moving at breakneck speed. North of them were the Sturgians, people who resembled the ancient Nords. They lived in the frozen northern mountains, where winter ruled year-round, and they were as tough and brutal as the lands they inhabited. Their warriors were renowned for their resilience and ferocity in battle. To the East of Valandia there was Battania, a faction deeply connected to the forests and nature, consisting of barbarian tribes that revered the old ways and the sacred trees of their land. In the heart of Calradia lay the fractured remnants of the once-mighty Empire. It had been the dominant force in the world, ruling over the other factions with an iron fist. But after the death of the last emperor, Arenicos, the empire had splintered into three warring factions. The Southern Empire was led by Rhagaea, the widow of Arenicos, who claimed to carry on her late husband¡¯s legacy. The Western Empire was ruled by Garios, Arenicos¡¯s former army chief, who saw himself as the true successor. And finally, the Northern Empire was a loose coalition of powerful nobles who had broken away from the central authority, rejecting both Rhagaea and Garios. Each faction was vying for control, and the once-great empire now stood on the brink of collapse. I was currently in the Western Empire, near a village just outside Zeonica, one of the key cities in the region. From what I overheard in the village, there was a tournament scheduled to be held in Zeonica soon¡ªa perfect opportunity for me to gather more information, and maybe even some resources, if I could make it there safely. But the road to Zeonica was dangerous. Bandits and raiders roamed the countryside, preying on travellers and caravans. I knew I couldn¡¯t make the journey alone. Fortunately, there was a small group of villagers preparing to travel to the city to sell surplus grain. They were looking for a few extra hands to help escort the goods, and I quickly volunteered. For my services, they offered me five denars¡ªnot much, but the safety in numbers was what I was after. That night, as I lay on the hard floor of the village barn where we¡¯d gathered to rest before our journey, I found my thoughts drifting. The sounds of the village around me were familiar, yet alien at the same time. It was one thing to play Bannerlord from behind a screen, but being here, surrounded by the very world I¡¯d spent years exploring, was something else entirely. I felt both out of place and strangely at home. Morning came quickly, and I woke to the sound of the village stirring to life. The other members of the escort group¡ªa ragtag collection of farmers and traders¡ªwere already preparing for the journey. I gathered my belongings and joined them. There were twelve of us in total, moving as a small caravan toward Zeonica. I took my place at the rear, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword, ready for anything. The sun had barely risen when we set out, the cool morning air clinging to the remnants of the night¡¯s chill. The path ahead was long and uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of purpose. I wasn¡¯t just surviving anymore. I was part of something¡ªhowever small¡ªand as we marched toward Zeonica, I realized that I was no longer the player. I was the one living this story now. 3. First Blood I was positioned at the rear of the caravan as we departed from the village, the sound of creaking wheels and the gentle murmurs of traders filling the air. The road stretched ahead, flanked by vast farmlands where farmers toiled under the warm sun, harvesting crops. The scenery was breathtaking¡ªendless fields of golden wheat swaying in the breeze, the occasional fruit tree laden with ripened produce, and a sky so brilliantly blue it seemed almost unreal. It was a beauty I had never seen in my real life. I found myself mesmerized by the sheer simplicity of it all. For a brief moment, I forgot about the dangers that lurked in this world, and even my hand, which had instinctively rested on the hilt of my sword, relaxed. The first leg of the journey passed without incident. My thoughts wandered, taking in the newness of everything around me. It felt strange to be here, in a world so vivid, so detailed, yet one I knew only from a screen in my past life. The contrast between the game I used to play and the reality I now face was unsettling. This was no longer just a game; it was a living, breathing world, and I was a part of it. I shook off the unease and kept pace with the group. A few hours in, the caravan leader, a man named Manes, called for a halt. We were near a river, and he instructed us to rest and have lunch. I was assigned to go with him to fetch water from the river. As we walked, I decided to make conversation. He seemed like a man of experience¡ªhis movements were calm, calculated, and precise. His presence commanded respect. ¡°So, Manes, how long have you been leading caravans?¡± I asked, trying to break the silence. ¡°I¡¯ve been doing this for a while now,¡± he replied without much enthusiasm. ¡°But before this, I served in the Imperial Army. I was a Menavliaton.¡± A Menavliaton? That was a prestigious rank, an officer who led soldiers into battle. I couldn¡¯t help but be curious. ¡°Why leave such an important position? The empire grants many benefits to officers. Surely, it wasn¡¯t easy to walk away.¡± At my question, Manes fell silent, his expression hardening. For a few moments, the only sound was the soft rustling of the grass beneath our feet and the distant chirping of birds. I realized I might have hit a sensitive topic and decided not to push further. We reached the riverbank, and I knelt to fill the water bucket. As I did, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the water¡ªdark hair, black eyes. It struck me that my appearance helped me blend in with the citizens of the Empire. For now, it was safer to assume the identity of an Imperial citizen. The Empire, though fractured, still held sway over nearly 40% of Calradia, and its culture and religion were dominant in many regions. Discrimination was rampant here, and being an outsider could easily land me in trouble. That''s why, after entering this world, I adopted the name Augustus¡ªafter the first emperor of Rome. The name, along with my looks, allowed me to avoid suspicion. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. We filled the buckets and returned to the group. Manes remained quiet, and I respected his silence. He was a man with his burdens, and in this world, survival often meant keeping those burdens to yourself. After we returned, we shared a simple meal¡ªbread, some dried meat, and water from the river. The sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows over the landscape as we prepared to resume our journey toward Zeonica. As the city came into view in the distance, I felt a sense of relief. The journey had been peaceful so far, but something gnawed at me¡ªa nagging feeling that the peace wouldn¡¯t last. My instincts proved correct. Just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, a group of looters appeared from the bushes, their ragged clothes and wild expressions betraying their desperate intent. There were about eight of them, armed with crude weapons¡ªclubs, axes, and stones. Panic surged through me. My heart raced as I instinctively reached for my sword. This was it¡ªthe first real test of my ability to survive in this world. I had faced countless enemies in the game before, but this was different. These men weren¡¯t just pixels on a screen. They were real, and the consequences of failure were real too. Manes barked out orders, his voice cutting through the chaos. ¡°Form a straight line! We outnumber them¡ªcharge them head-on!¡± The others, more seasoned than me, fell into formation. I followed suit, my mind racing with fear and adrenaline. As we moved forward, the looters hurled stones at us. One flew past my head, narrowly missing. Another hit the ground by my feet, kicking up dust. For a brief second, I froze, overwhelmed by the reality of the situation. But then Manes'' shout snapped me out of it. ¡°Focus! Keep moving!¡± he yelled, his sword raised as he led the charge. I swallowed hard, gripping the hilt of my sword tighter. We closed the distance quickly, and before I knew it, I was face-to-face with one of the looters. He was a burly man, wielding a crude wooden club. His eyes were wild, full of desperation. He swung at me, a wide, reckless arc aimed at my head. I raised my sword just in time to block the blow, the impact jarring my arms. Time seemed to slow as I blocked his strike and instinctively stepped forward, driving my sword toward his neck. The blade pierced his flesh with a sickening ease, and blood sprayed out, staining my tunic red. He gurgled, collapsing to the ground as I pulled my sword free. I stood there, frozen for a moment, staring at the body at my feet. The reality of what I had just done hit me like a hammer. I had killed a man. Not a bandit in a game, not a faceless NPC, but a living, breathing person. My hands trembled, and for a second, the world around me blurred. This was real. I wasn¡¯t in a game anymore. But there was no time to dwell on it. The battle raged on around me, and I could hear the clashing of weapons, the grunts of effort, and the cries of pain. Manes had already dispatched two of the looters, and the rest of the caravan guards were handling the others. The skirmish ended almost as quickly as it had begun. The looters, disorganized and ill-equipped, were no match for us. When it was over, we stood amidst the bodies, panting and bloodied, but alive. The adrenaline began to wear off, and exhaustion set in. Manes walked over to me, his face grim. ¡°You did well,¡± he said simply, clapping a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, though I didn¡¯t feel like I had done well. The weight of the kill still sat heavily on my conscience. But in this world, survival came at a cost, and I had just paid my first toll. 4. Hidden Mechanics Unveiled After the skirmish, our priority was to tend to the wounded. Thankfully, apart from one villager who lost his arm, the rest of the injuries were minor¡ªbruises and cuts, but no fatalities. Manes had led the counter-charge brilliantly, inspiring everyone with his calm and commanding presence. It was clear to me that his time in the Imperial Army wasn¡¯t just for show; he knew how to lead in battle. We gathered around the fallen looters, and with grim efficiency, we looted the bodies. Manes took his lion''s share, as was expected, and then handed me 24 denars for my part. Just as I pocketed the money, a strange sensation overcame me. Out of nowhere, a robotic, feminine voice whispered directly into my mind: ¡°One-handed experience gained 5/10. Renown gained 0.5/50. Influence gained none.¡± I froze in place, confused. After entering this world, I thought I didn¡¯t have any of the usual "cheat" skills protagonists in these stories always seem to acquire. I assumed I was just here to survive on my wits and knowledge of the game. But this voice proved me wrong. I had some kind of game system that would help me track my progress, though I had no idea how to activate it or use it beyond these strange notifications. The realization filled me with both excitement and curiosity. I felt a new sense of motivation¡ªthis system could be a powerful tool, and I was determined to figure out how it worked. I wondered what other hidden features might reveal themselves over time. However, before I could dive too deeply into my thoughts, I realized Manes was watching me. ¡°Are you alright?¡± he asked, his voice steady but concerned. I shook myself out of my daze. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s nothing,¡± I replied, though it was far from the truth. Explaining what had just happened would have been impossible. Manes gave me a long look, clearly unconvinced, but he let it drop. Soon, we were at the gates of Zeonica. The city guards inspected us with sharp eyes, checking us over for weapons or anything suspicious. One of them caught sight of my sword and gave me a stern warning. ¡°Don¡¯t unsheath that sword in public unless you want to spend a night in the dungeons,¡± he said, glaring at me. I nodded, not wanting any trouble. The paperwork was mostly handled by a guard using some kind of parchment, which I was expected to sign. Apart from one merchant all of the others in the group used their thumbprints as a signature, but I instinctively signed my name. I wasn¡¯t prepared for the reaction. The others stared at me, their eyes wide. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°You can read and write?¡± one of the merchants asked, his tone filled with awe. ¡°Uh¡­ yeah,¡± I said, taken aback by how impressed they were. I¡¯d never been praised for writing my name before. But when I glanced at the parchment, I realized something strange¡ªI hadn¡¯t written my name in English. Instead, the letters were in Latin, a language I shouldn¡¯t have known. Somehow, I knew different languages in this world, knowledge that wasn¡¯t originally mine. It was unsettling, but also oddly reassuring. At least, in some ways, I wasn¡¯t entirely out of my depth here. Once we entered the city, I was immediately captivated. Zeonica was breathtaking, with its towering stone buildings and streets lined with bustling shops and merchants. The architecture reminded me of ancient Rome¡ªthe Empire¡¯s influence was everywhere. It was far grander than anything I¡¯d ever seen in real life, and for a moment, I stood in awe of the sight. Our caravan stopped at an inn, where the rest of the escort group went off to drink, while the merchants headed to the market to sell their goods. I joined Manes for a drink, still trying to process everything that had happened. The beer they served was rough, crude, and nothing like the smooth, refined drinks I was used to. I almost gagged after the first sip¡ªit tasted like something closer to horse piss than actual beer. Manes chuckled at my reaction. ¡°Takes some getting used to,¡± he said, slapping me on the back. ¡°You thinking about joining the tournament tomorrow?¡± My mind snapped back to the present. The tournament. I had almost forgotten about it. ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied instinctively, then paused. ¡°Wait, what format is it?¡± I only knew that a tournament was happening, but I hadn¡¯t learned anything beyond that. Manes raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my ignorance. ¡°There are four formats. One is reserved for the Imperial Army, but the other three are open to the public. The first is a team fight, where you¡¯ll fight alongside others. The second is a battle royale, every man for himself. The last is beast fights, though those aren¡¯t for the faint of heart.¡± The battle royale format caught my attention immediately. The reward was generous, and even though I was new to this world, I felt confident. In all the VR games I¡¯d played, I could pull off complex moves without breaking a sweat, and with this body¡ªthis real, physical body¡ªI felt like I could do even better. The tournament seemed like the perfect opportunity to test my skills and maybe even earn some renown. After we finished our drinks, we headed to our rented beds for the night. I lay on the rough mattress, my mind racing. The tournament loomed in my thoughts, a mixture of excitement and dread filling me. Could I win it? Did I even stand a chance against seasoned fighters in this world? I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the decision I had made. Tomorrow, I¡¯d either prove myself or fail miserably. There was no middle ground. As I drifted into an uneasy sleep, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this world¡ªthis game¡ªwas far more real than I ever imagined. The blood I had spilt, the fear I had felt, and the challenges I had faced were just the beginning. 5. The Path to Victory The morning was cool and refreshing as I stepped out of the inn, feeling the cobblestone streets of Zeonica beneath my feet. Manes was nowhere to be seen in his bed, which didn¡¯t surprise me. He was always up before dawn, handling his affairs. I had something else on my mind¡ªthe tournament. Today, I was going to test myself, and I had a lot riding on it. I headed straight for the tournament registration area, a large tent set up near the training grounds just outside the city. The closer I got, the more my stomach tightened. I had fought before, but this was different. This wasn¡¯t just a skirmish against some looters or a few virtual enemies¡ªthis was a fight for honour, glory, and survival. I approached the registration officer, a gruff man who looked like he¡¯d seen his share of battles. ¡°I¡¯m here to register for the tournament,¡± I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. He looked me up and down. ¡°Fifty denars,¡± he grunted. I handed over the coins without hesitation. This was an investment, not just in the tournament, but in my future here. The officer counted the coins and slid them into a leather pouch hanging from his belt. ¡°Blunt weapons only,¡± he said, ¡°provided at the start of each round. You¡¯ll have to wear your own armour, but a word of advice: don¡¯t dress up like a knight. You do that, and others will gang up on you, no question.¡± I nodded, absorbing the information. The officer continued, ¡°The battle royale starts in two hours. Make sure you¡¯re back before then.¡± With two hours to kill, I figured I might as well spend some time preparing. I had money to spare, so I decided to buy some armour¡ªsomething that would protect me but wouldn¡¯t make me look too conspicuous. As I wandered the city, I marvelled at the architecture of Zeonica. The towering stone buildings and the wide streets were a testament to the city¡¯s imperial history. It was named after Lady Zeona, the Regent of her son, one of the few women to have ever ruled the empire. Her legacy was everywhere, from the grand statues that stood in the city squares to the stories that the locals shared with pride. After some time, I found an Aserai armour merchant named Alsaric. His stall was filled with various pieces of armor¡ªsome ornate, others practical. I eyed a chainmail vest that caught my attention. It looked sturdy but could be hidden under a tunic, which would help me avoid standing out as a knight. Alsaric noticed the bloodstains on my tunic from the previous day¡¯s skirmish. ¡°That chainmail you¡¯re looking at will cost you around 800 denars,¡± he said, ¡°but there¡¯s a way to get it for 400.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°How?¡± He gestured toward the opposite side of the road, where a woman was sitting on a bench. ¡°Talk to the lady over there. Her name is Rita¡­ Rita the Butcher.¡± The name didn¡¯t sit well with me, but it was broad daylight, and the streets were busy. I figured no harm could come from asking a few questions. I approached her cautiously, trying to assess her as I got closer. She was dressed plainly but had a sharpness in her eyes that suggested she was no ordinary merchant. ¡°Rita?¡± I asked. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. She looked up at me with a small smirk. ¡°You¡¯re new around here, aren¡¯t you?¡± I nodded. ¡°I came to take part in the tournament.¡± She leaned back, eyeing me up and down. ¡°And you¡¯re here because Alsaric sent you for a discount on some chainmail, I assume?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I replied. ¡°He said you could help.¡± She laughed softly. ¡°Well, lad, I don¡¯t just hand out discounts to anyone. You pay me 400 denars, and I¡¯ll give you the armour. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not about to loot you. If I start robbing potential customers, I¡¯d run out of business.¡± Her words didn¡¯t exactly inspire confidence, but I played along. It was 400 denars, after all, half of what the chainmail would normally cost. I handed over the coins, watching closely as she called for someone. A man appeared, carrying a small bundle, which he dropped on the ground about ten feet away from me. Rita nodded toward it. ¡°Go ahead, check it.¡± I approached the bundle cautiously, unwrapped it, and found the chainmail, just as promised. It was in excellent condition, practically new. I tried not to think too hard about where it had come from. For all I knew, it had been stripped from a dead man, but I couldn¡¯t afford to care right now. I had a tournament to win. Satisfied with my purchase, I slipped on the chainmail under my tunic, keeping it hidden from view. It was surprisingly comfortable and allowed for a decent range of movement. With my new armour secured, I made my way back to the tournament grounds. By the time I arrived, about 24 or 25 participants had gathered for the battle royale. As I scanned the crowd, two people stood out to me. The first was Manes. I wasn¡¯t expecting to see him there, but I wasn¡¯t surprised either. He had the look of someone who had been through worse battles than this. The second was a man who towered over the rest of us, at least seven feet tall, built like a mountain. He was clad in heavy plate armour, which made him look even more imposing. Beating him would be no small feat. The tournament officer handed out weapons, and I chose a blunt sword. I had trained with these kinds of weapons before and felt comfortable wielding it. As the horn blew to signal the start of the battle, chaos erupted around me. Combatants clashed, shouting and grunting as weapons collided. I fought defensively, dodging blows and waiting for openings. The chainmail did its job, deflecting strikes that would¡¯ve otherwise ended my run early. I managed to defeat two opponents, both of them weaker fighters who didn¡¯t pose much of a threat. Still, I was cautious¡ªone wrong move and I could be out of the tournament. As I caught my breath, I noticed the mountain of a man fighting off what seemed like a dozen opponents. They had clearly teamed up to take him down, but he was holding his own. With each swing of his polearm, he sent two or three combatants flying. It was almost unreal, watching him mow down opponents like they were nothing. But exhaustion was starting to show. Two fighters managed to disarm him, leaving him weaponless. Even without his weapon, he fought on, using his massive hands to grab and choke his enemies. He knocked the last two men unconscious, but it was clear he was running on fumes. This was my chance. I couldn¡¯t let someone that powerful recover. I charged at him, swinging my blunt sword with all the strength I could muster. The blow landed squarely on his head. He staggered but didn¡¯t fall. I swung again, this time aiming for his legs, trying to bring him down. He struggled, his movements slow and labored, but he fought back. After what felt like an eternity, he finally collapsed, too tired to continue. Breathing heavily, I looked around. The only other combatant left was Manes. He was limping, clearly injured from the earlier fights. His arms were covered in cuts, and he was having trouble even standing upright. But despite his injuries, he wasn¡¯t about to back down. He raised his sword, signalling that he wanted to continue. I admired his spirit, but this fight was already over. He lunged at me, but his movements were slow and predictable. I easily deflected his attack, countered with a strike of my own, and knocked his weapon from his weakened grip. And just like that, it was over. I had won the tournament. I wasn¡¯t the strongest, nor the bravest, but sometimes, all you need is a little patience, a lot of luck, and the ability to seize an opportunity when it presents itself. As I stood there, bloodied and bruised, I realized something important: I was going to survive in this world. 6. The Nova The crowd roared in approval as my name echoed through the air, their cheers filling me with a sense of pride and accomplishment I hadn¡¯t felt in a long time. I stood there, basking in the moment, my chest swelling with each shout. The euphoria coursed through me, making me forget if only briefly, the exhaustion from the brutal fight I had just endured. For those few seconds, I felt invincible. But my moment in the spotlight was short-lived. The tournament staff quickly moved in, dragging off the unconscious bodies of the defeated, myself included. It seemed like they had a schedule to keep, and the next event was already in preparation. I have ushered off the sidelines as they cleared the field for the upcoming round, a special event for knights serving in the army¡ªcataphracts mounted warriors from the lower noble houses. I could barely focus as I watched the knights on horseback enter the arena. Having a horse here was like having a car back in my world, not just in cost but in the maintenance required. Horses weren¡¯t something a mere peasant or foot soldier could afford. Only the wealthy or those backed by noble families had the resources to maintain one. I found myself caring less and less about the spectacle, as fatigue from the battle royale hit me like a wave. I focused instead on tending to the wounds I¡¯d sustained in the fight. My body ached, but the adrenaline still pumping through my veins helped numb some of the pain. By the time the knightly event was over, the winners were called up on stage to receive their rewards. I was among them. As we stood there, waiting for the ceremony to begin, I noticed the figure walking toward us¡ªQueen Vendelia, wife of Garios, ruler of the Western Empire. She was supposed to be presenting us with our prizes, but her expression told me all I needed to know. Her cold, disinterested eyes glanced over us as if we were nothing more than dirt beneath her feet. There was no smile, no acknowledgement of our efforts, nothing but disdain. The queen didn¡¯t even hand out the rewards herself. She called over a slave, who brought forth a small chest of coins and a collection of items. It felt degrading as if we were beggars receiving scraps. I clenched my fists, trying to ignore the insult, and focused on what I had won. The slave handed me my reward¡ªa pouch containing 2000 denars and a bronze helmet. The money was a welcome addition, but I barely cared about the helmet. What mattered was what the reward signified. I had survived, and I had earned something for my efforts. As I stood there, holding my reward, I suddenly heard the familiar robotic voice in my head: One-handed skill levelled up to level 2 (35/100). Renown gained: 5 (total 5.5/50). Influence gained: none. I let out a sigh. Finally, some progress. It had taken me three days to level up a single skill, and even then, it was just my one-handed combat. Back in the games I used to play, three days would¡¯ve been enough time to fight a boss or unlock special abilities, but here, in this world, progress was slow¡ªpainfully slow. There were no shortcuts, no hacks to speed things up. I was going to have to fight for every inch of advancement. Still, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment. It was a step forward, however small. And in a world like this, every little bit counts. I collected my reward and left the tournament grounds, my body still aching from the fight. The sun was beginning to set, and I knew I needed rest. The inn was calling to me, a warm bed and the chance to sleep off the exhaustion from the day¡¯s events. As I made my way back, I ran into Manes. His face lit up when he saw me, a wide grin spreading across his face.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°So, I guess a celebration is in order, isn¡¯t it?¡± he said, clapping me on the back. I laughed, wincing slightly from the pain in my ribs. ¡°Yeah, I suppose it is. Drinks are on me.¡± We found a quiet tavern not far from the inn, and before long, we were deep into our cups. The ale flowed freely as we talked about everything¡ªour journey from the village, the looters we had fought, and the tournament. It felt good to relax for once, to let go of the constant tension that had been hanging over me since I arrived in this world. As the night wore on, Manes began to speak about his ambitions. His tone became more serious, and I could see the fire in his eyes. ¡°You know,¡± he began, ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about forming a mercenary group. Not like these other scum who pillage and murder. I¡¯m talking about a group that doesn¡¯t hurt innocents, that protects the weak instead of exploiting them.¡± I listened closely, intrigued by his vision. It wasn¡¯t just idle talk; there was passion behind his words. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the way these kingdoms operate,¡± he continued. ¡°They kill, they enslave, they take whatever they want without a second thought. Someone has to stand up to them, even if it¡¯s just a small group.¡± His conviction was clear, but there was a problem. ¡°The only issue,¡± he said, his voice lowering, ¡°is that I don¡¯t have the resources to make it happen. I¡¯ve been trying to win tournaments to fund the group, but I¡¯ve had no luck.¡± He explained the financial burden of running such a band. ¡°It costs 150 denars monthly just to recruit one man,¡± he said. ¡°If we want to recruit ten, that¡¯s 1500 denars right there. And that doesn¡¯t include the supplies. We¡¯ll need another 1000 denars just for provisions to last a month.¡± He sighed, taking a long drink of his ale. ¡°I¡¯ve managed to scrape together 1500 denars, but I¡¯m still short. I need another 1000.¡± I sat back, considering his proposal. On one hand, it was a risky investment. Starting a mercenary group in this world wasn¡¯t something to be taken lightly. But on the other hand, I needed someone I could trust. Manes had proven himself to be a good companion, and having him as an ally would be valuable, especially while I was still learning the ropes in this strange new world. After some thought, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll help you. I¡¯ll put up the 1000 denars, but I want to be more than just a sponsor. I want to be involved. Let me be your quartermaster, your co-leader. We¡¯ll run this group together.¡± Manes smiled, a look of relief washing over his face. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said. ¡°You won¡¯t regret this.¡± We continued drinking, the mood lightening again as we discussed the details of the group. At one point, Manes turned to me and asked, ¡°Do you have any ideas for a name? Every mercenary band needs a name.¡± I thought for a moment, reflecting on what he had said about the group¡¯s purpose. Then, a name came to me. ¡°Nova,¡± I said, testing the word aloud. ¡°It means something new, something fresh. For me, it¡¯s a symbol of starting over, of hope.¡± Mannes¡¯s eyes lit up as he considered it. ¡°Nova,¡± he repeated. ¡°It does feel fresh. Like a break from the past, a chance to build something better.¡± We spent the rest of the night drinking and celebrating both my victory in the tournament and the formation of our new mercenary group. By the time we stumbled back to the inn, the sky was dark, and we were both thoroughly drunk. I collapsed into bed, my mind swirling with thoughts of the future. The next morning came far too quickly. The pounding in my head was a harsh reminder of the previous night¡¯s indulgence, but there was work to be done. Manes and I split up, each with our own tasks. My job was to gather supplies and recruit men, while he would seek out potential contracts. The day passed in a blur as I moved from merchant to merchant, haggling over prices and assessing the available recruits. By the time evening rolled around, I had managed to gather enough supplies for the group to last at least a month, and I had recruited ten solid men to join us. They weren¡¯t much to look at, but they were eager and capable enough. When I met back up with Manes, he was equally successful. He had already secured a potential contract for us to take on the next day. Everything was falling into place. As we sat together, reviewing our progress, I felt a sense of accomplishment. We were on the verge of something big. The Nova had been born, and our first mission was just around the corner. Tomorrow, our journey will truly begin. 7. Blood and Shadows It was a beautiful morning, reminiscent of early spring back on Earth¡ªMarch or April, perhaps. The air was crisp, with a slight chill that signalled the change of seasons. However, the calendar here didn¡¯t match Earth¡¯s. Although they also had twelve months, the names varied depending on the kingdom. At some point, I would need to study the days and months in this world, but for now, I had more pressing matters. Today was the first meeting of The Nova. Manes had laid out our task: destroy a notorious forest bandit camp and capture their leader, Radagos, either dead or alive. There was a substantial bounty on his head. He¡¯d been involved in all kinds of horrible things¡ªmurder, slave trading, you name it. The authorities, as well as many merchants, wanted him brought to justice. If we succeeded in this mission, it would establish our newly formed mercenary group as a force to be reckoned with. Manes, always the strategist, had leads on Radagos¡¯s location. So, we set out from Zeonica, travelling northeast toward a small village called Zeocorys. The journey wasn¡¯t long, but it gave me time to reflect. I had only recently found myself in this strange world, and already, I was neck-deep in its struggles. Would this life suit me? Only time will tell. When we arrived at Zeocorys, the village looked much like others we had passed¡ªsmall, humble, and filled with hardworking people. Villagers were busy harvesting their crops, loading them onto wagons bound for the town market. But something was off. There was an undercurrent of unease, visible in the furrowed brows and tight-lipped expressions of the farmers. The usual cheer of rural life seemed absent here, replaced with a sense of dread. Manes instructed us to rest while he met with his contact in the village to gather information about the bandits'' camp. He gave strict orders: eat, sleep, and prepare, for we might see action tonight. After distributing the daily wages and food to the recruits, I finally had a moment to myself. The inn¡¯s bed, though simple, felt like a luxury after so many nights spent on the road. I managed to catch a short nap, but the weight of the upcoming battle lingered in my thoughts. That evening, Manes returned with the information we needed. The bandits¡¯ hideout was nearby, and we had to strike under the cover of darkness. The moon was dim, its light filtering weakly through scattered clouds, which suited our purposes. We departed from the village in silence, only taking four men with us. The remaining six stayed behind to guard our belongings, as moving with too large a group might alert the bandits. After walking for about an hour without torches¡ªrelying solely on the faint moonlight to guide our way¡ªwe arrived at the bandits¡¯ hideout. It was nestled at the foot of a mountain, a cave partially concealed by the natural rock formations. Two guards patrolled the entrance, their silhouettes barely visible in the darkness. There was no telling how many more bandits were inside, but we guessed most would be asleep by now. Aside from a small campfire within the cave, the guards carried no torches, which worked to our advantage.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Manes and I would have to eliminate the sentries quietly. We moved in sync, waiting for the clouds to obscure the moon completely. In the shadows, we crept forward, using the natural terrain to stay out of sight. I took up a position behind a bush, only ten feet away from one of the guards. There were no trees between us, just a few scattered shrubs. I held my breath and slowly inched forward. Suddenly, I heard a soft rustle. Manes had misstepped, his foot crunching on dry leaves. The guards turned their heads, sensing the disturbance. There was no time for subtlety now. Before they could unsheathe their swords, Manes and I lunged at them, taking them down swiftly. The encounter was over in seconds, and the forest was silent once again. I signalled for the others, who had been waiting in the tree line, to join us. The real challenge lay ahead¡ªthe bandits inside the cave. We had counted ten figures sleeping within, four of whom were chained, likely prisoners. That left six bandits for us to deal with, one for each of us. If we could take them out without waking the others, this would be an easy victory. I led the way into the cave, my heart pounding in my chest. We moved as quietly as possible, each of us creeping toward our assigned targets. The dim glow of the dying campfire cast long shadows across the cavern walls, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Everything seemed to be going according to plan until one of our men¡ªa newer recruit¡ªstumbled. The noise echoed through the cave, jarring the sleeping bandits awake. It was too late to maintain stealth. Four of us were already in position, so we struck before the bandits could fully comprehend what was happening. I drove my sword into the throat of the nearest bandit, silencing him before he could shout. Blood gushed from the wound, but I didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it. I pressed my foot against his chest to pull my blade free. The others acted with similar precision, though Manes wasn¡¯t as fortunate. As he moved to finish his target, the bandit managed to draw a knife from his waist and slashed at Manes¡¯s shoulder. The wound wasn¡¯t deep, but it was enough to slow him down. Still, we had taken out four bandits before they could mount a defence. That left two, including Radagos himself. The bandit leader, realizing he was outnumbered, grabbed one of the captives¡ªa young girl¡ªand held a knife to her throat. Her eyes, instead of showing fear, were filled with sorrow and regret. ¡°If you let me go, I¡¯ll leave the girl unharmed,¡± Radagos snarled, his voice dripping with malice. I had no interest in negotiating with him, but I needed to be cautious. One wrong move and the girl¡¯s life could be in jeopardy. I motioned for one of my men to take the wounded Manes and the freed captives outside for treatment. Without Manes, we were down on strength, but Radagos and his remaining lackey were only armed with knives. We still had the advantage. As my men left, I faced Radagos. ¡°Do you think I care about saving slaves?¡± I said coldly. ¡°I¡¯m here for the gold. After I kill you, I¡¯ll have enough to buy ten slaves. But I¡¯ll give you a choice. Surrender now, and I might let you live. Resist, and I¡¯ll tear you apart.¡± One of the remaining bandits, terrified by my words, dropped his knife and surrendered immediately. I instructed one of my men to tie him up. Radagos, seeing his ally give up, realized he had no choice but to do the same. He released the girl, dropped his knife, and got on his knees. As he knelt before me, I picked up the knife he had dropped and handed it to the girl. Her dull, sorrowful eyes flared with a new emotion¡ªrage. 7.5 Blood and Shadows - Continued Her dull, sorrowful eyes flared with a new emotion¡ªrage. She knew exactly what I meant as I handed her the blade. There was no need for words. The bandits started screaming, realizing what was about to happen. ¡°Where¡¯s your honour?¡± Radagos yelled, his voice breaking with panic. ¡°You said you¡¯d let me live!¡± ¡°Honor?¡± I laughed, the sound cold and harsh in the cavern. ¡°Why would I honour a bandit who treats people like property?¡± The girl¡¯s grip on the knife tightened. Without hesitation, she lunged at Radagos¡¯s associate, stabbing him repeatedly. The man screamed, thrashing as the blade pierced his chest, over and over. I watched in silence, my hand resting on my sword¡¯s hilt, prepared to intervene if things spiralled out of control. But I didn¡¯t need to. She knew what she was doing. Her anger was terrifying in its intensity. Each stab was precise, not the wild flailing of someone overcome by emotion, but the methodical strikes of a person bent on vengeance. When the bandit¡¯s body finally stilled, blood pooling around him, she turned toward Radagos. For the first time since we¡¯d entered the cave, I felt a chill. Radagos, for all his bravado, began to tremble. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this,¡± he pleaded, backing away on his knees. ¡°I¡¯ll leave. I¡¯ll never come back. Just let me go!¡± The girl stepped forward, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she plunged the knife into his chest, then again and again. Radagos¡¯s screams filled the cave, echoing off the stone walls. His hands clawed weakly at her, trying to fend off the attack, but he was already too weak. She stabbed him with cold, calculated precision, just as she had with the first man. When it was over, Radagos slumped to the ground, his body lifeless. Blood dripped from the girl¡¯s hands, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She stood over him for a long moment, the knife still clutched tightly in her hand. The rage that had fueled her was gone, leaving only exhaustion and sorrow in its wake. Finally, she let the knife fall from her hand, clattering onto the stone floor. She slumped into the corner of the cave, her shoulders shaking as silent tears began to fall. The others stood around awkwardly, unsure of what to do.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I approached her slowly, my eyes scanning the cave once more. The battle was over, and we had won. But the cost was not just the lives of the bandits. I could see the toll it had taken on her, the way her hands trembled and her eyes looked hollow. The adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins began to fade, leaving me feeling drained. There was nothing more to be done here. ¡°Let¡¯s wrap this up,¡± I said quietly to my men, my voice sounding distant in the aftermath of the violence. ¡°Loot what we can, and bury the bodies. We leave at first light.¡± Aside from Radagos¡¯s sword, there wasn¡¯t much worth taking. The bandits had been living a hard life, scavenging and stealing, but they hadn¡¯t accumulated much in the way of valuables. We gathered what little we could carry, then dug shallow graves for the dead. It wasn¡¯t a proper burial, but it would have to do. No one would mourn them. The girl, despite her exhaustion, insisted on helping us. Her movements were slow and mechanical, but she worked alongside us until the last bandit was buried. When the task was finally done, we began the walk back to Zeocorys, the village now a beacon of safety in the distance. As we walked, I fell in step beside the girl. I hadn¡¯t spoken to her much since the fight, and I wasn¡¯t sure what to say now. After everything she¡¯d been through, words seemed meaningless. But she deserved to be acknowledged, at the very least. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked after a long silence. She looked up at me, her eyes still filled with the weight of what had happened, but her voice, though trembling, was steady. ¡°My name is Silvana,¡± she said softly. ¡°I¡¯m the daughter of a hunter from Zeocorys. My father and brother were killed by those bandits, and they took me as a prisoner. Thank you for saving me.¡± I nodded, unsure how to respond. There was no need for thanks. What we had done wasn¡¯t noble or righteous. It was just survival¡ªhers, mine, and my men¡¯s. But I didn¡¯t correct her. Instead, I simply said, ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± When we arrived back at the village, the first thing I did was check on Manes. He was resting at the inn, his shoulder bandaged but otherwise in good spirits. The blade that had wounded him hadn¡¯t been poisoned, thankfully, and the cut wasn¡¯t deep. With proper rest, he¡¯d recover in a few days. Exhausted from the fight and the lack of sleep, I collapsed into bed myself, grateful for the comfort of a mattress and a roof over my head. As my body finally began to relax, the events of the day replayed in my mind. The fight, the girl¡¯s rage, the bandits¡¯ screams¡ªit was all a blur now, but one thing stood out clearly. As I drifted off, the familiar robotic voice echoed in my head once more, a reminder of the strange and distant world I had left behind. The voice that had brought me here, that had trapped me in this game, was still with me. 8. A New Recruit The voice echoed in my mind as I heard the robotic notification: "Roguery experience gained: 8/10. One-handed skill: level 1 (45/100) Renown (10.5/50)." Despite the exhaustion that weighed on me, I felt a small surge of satisfaction. But I was far too tired to ponder over the potential of this new skill. The victory over the bandits was still fresh in my mind, and my body craved rest more than anything else. The next morning, I spent my time organizing the loot we had taken from the cave. As the quartermaster, Manes had left that responsibility to me. There wasn¡¯t much gold to be found¡ªabout two hundred coins, which was barely enough to cover our lodging, food, and drink while we celebrated our first victory in the village. Still, there were knives, swords, and some pieces of worn armour, enough to distribute among our men. One item stood out among the rest: a sword with a beautifully crafted hilt. The blade was sharp, almost seeming to hum as I tested it in the air. The hilt bore the engraving of what looked like an eagle. It was a fine weapon, far better than the others we had found, and I decided to keep it for myself. I distributed the rest of the equipment to our men, ensuring they had what they needed before we set out on our next mission. Once the loot was divided and the men paid their daily wages, it was time to collect the bounty for the bandits we had killed. We had two choices: return to Zeonica or head north to a city closer to our current position. Jalmyrys, a smaller city to the north, was the obvious choice. So, we prepared to leave Zeocorys behind. As we were packing up to move out, someone approached me. It was Silvana, the girl we had rescued from the bandit camp. She looked different now, more resolute. Her eyes burned with a quiet determination that hadn¡¯t been there before. "I need to speak with you," she said, her voice steady and confident. "I want to join your band of mercenaries." I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her boldness. She continued, undeterred. "I know it may not seem like the most favourable decision for you, but I have skills, and I can be of use. I''m a hunter; I know how to use a bow. That bow one of your men is holding was my father''s. The bandits took it from our home. I¡¯m not asking for it back, but can your men use it better than I can?" She paused for a moment, then added, "I also have coins. I sold my property¡ªI have no intention of staying here, relying on the charity of others. I want power. The power to decide someone¡¯s fate, like you did with Radagos. So, will you take me into your group?"The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Her words hit harder than I expected. There was something in her tone that reminded me of my own thirst for control in this chaotic world. But the life of a mercenary was filled with danger. One wrong move and you were dead. I didn¡¯t care for much in this world other than Manes, but I still didn¡¯t want to see someone who had barely survived hell get thrown back into the fire. I crossed my arms and replied, "Listen, girl. First of all, it¡¯s not my decision whether you join or not. You¡¯ll have to ask our leader, Manes. And as for your skills, none of my men are archers, so you may have a point. How about this: if you can beat all of my men in an archery competition, I¡¯ll introduce you to Manes myself and advocate for you to join. If you lose, you¡¯ll head back to the village and not waste our leader¡¯s time." Without hesitation, she nodded. "Let''s begin." We set up the competition, and I was genuinely curious to see how she¡¯d fare. She wasn¡¯t bluffing¡ªher skill with the bow was impressive. Not only did she hit every target with precision, but she made it look effortless. My men didn¡¯t stand a chance. I couldn¡¯t help but be amazed by how naturally she handled the bow. She won, fair and square. True to my word, I introduced her to Manes. "She¡¯s beaten all the others in archery," I told him. "If you have no objections, I think she would be an asset to the group." Manes looked her over, then shrugged. "As long as she follows orders, I have no problem with her joining." He then turned to Silvana. "Talk to him about your pay and equipment. Prepare yourself quickly¡ªwe¡¯re leaving for Jalmyrys soon." As we travelled to Jalmyrys, I spoke with Silvana about the terms of her joining. We agreed on her pay, and I provided her with a bow and a knife as her primary weapons. Unfortunately, we didn¡¯t have any spare armour to offer her, so I reserved that for the melee fighters. Silvana seemed content with the arrangement. During the journey, she asked me, "Have you ever met the governor of Jalmyrys?" The question caught me off guard. I hadn¡¯t thought much about meeting any of the local rulers. "No," I said flatly. "I¡¯ve no interest in meeting arrogant nobles." Thinking about Vendelia and how she looked at me like I was a pile of dust. Silvana looked surprised by my answer. "You¡¯ve never met her, then," she said with a knowing smile. "Nadea, the princess of the Western Empire. She¡¯s my idol. During the war with the Southern Empire, she surrounded Rhagea¡¯s forces and defeated them. But because of spies, Rhagaea fled the castle. I want to be like her¡ªbrave, powerful, able to stand up to anyone." Her words intrigued me. I hadn¡¯t heard much about Nadea, but the way Silvana described her, she sounded like a force to be reckoned with. It would be interesting to meet her, though I doubted I would be impressed by yet another ruler of this corrupt empire. After days of travel, we finally reached Jalmyrys. The city¡¯s walls weren¡¯t as tall or imposing as those in Zeonica, but the garrison looked competent enough. We passed through the gates after some paperwork and entered the town. A new city, a new adventure. Who knew what awaited us here? 9. The Governors Game Upon reaching the city, I ensured that my men were settled into an affordable inn. It wasn¡¯t much, just a modest establishment with creaky wooden floors and dimly lit rooms, but it was comfortable enough for us to rest. Manes told me he would go to the governor¡¯s castle to claim the bounty money for Radagos while I could take the time to rest and prepare for our next quest. However, Silvana¡¯s words from earlier echoed in my mind, specifically her admiration for Nadea, who she claimed was a great person, completely different from the nobles I had in mind. That curiosity tugged at me. I decided to ask Manes if I could accompany him to the governor¡¯s castle. He glanced at me but agreed without hesitation. As we walked toward the inner castle, the tall stone walls loomed above us, casting long shadows in the late afternoon sun. The air was cool, and the narrow streets were busy with townsfolk rushing about their business. After a stretch of silence, Manes spoke, his tone serious. ¡°I¡¯ve heard what you did with Radagos in the cave,¡± he said. ¡°I can¡¯t say I approve of your methods. If you act like that often, it could hurt our reputation.¡± I raised an eyebrow and replied, ¡°So you want to build a good reputation among *bandits* now?¡± My words were sharp, and I could see Manes¡¯ jaw tighten as he shot me a look of disdain. He didn¡¯t respond, and we continued walking in silence, the tension thick between us. When we arrived at the castle, it was everything I expected from the seat of a governor in a city as large as this. The architecture was Roman-inspired, with tall pillars of white marble supporting an arched roof. The courtyard was paved with smooth stone, and guards in gleaming armour stood at attention near the entrance. Their expressions were stern as we approached. Manes handed over our papers, which had been issued by the city administration in Zeonica, along with the belongings we had taken from Radagos as proof of our claim. The guard examined the documents, asking us a few routine questions, likely to verify our identities in case anyone challenged our legitimacy later. Satisfied, he allowed us to enter the governor¡¯s chamber. The chamber was grand. Marble floors gleamed beneath our feet, and rich tapestries hung from the walls, depicting scenes of battle and the prosperity of the Western Empire. At the far end of the room was a large, ornate chair carved from dark wood, the governor¡¯s seat. But something was off. I had expected to see Nadea, the woman Silvana had spoken so highly of. Instead, a man around my age, perhaps 23, sat in the chair. He had a sharp, angular face with neatly trimmed black hair and a thin, twisted smile that seemed permanently etched onto his lips. His eyes were cold, calculating, and held a hint of malice. I glanced at Manes, hoping for some explanation, but his face had gone pale. He looked like he had just seen something terrifying.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Before I could ask, the man in the chair spoke, his voice dripping with mockery. ¡°Look who we have here, a deserter who ran away from peasants.¡± I frowned, confused, as the man stared directly at Manes with that same twisted smile. Then he turned his gaze to me, his expression hardening. ¡°You! Don¡¯t you know to lower your head in the presence of a noble? Or are you some idiot who¡¯s never learned proper manners?¡± The sharpness in his voice caught me off guard. I quickly lowered my head and muttered an apology. He ignored me, focusing entirely on Manes, who stood rigid in front of him. ¡°So, what brings a deserter here?¡± the man sneered. ¡°I let you go once, but now you dare to come before me again?¡± Manes hesitated, his voice quieter than usual as he answered. ¡°My lord, I¡¯ve completed an assignment. We killed the bandit Radagos, and I¡¯m here to claim the bounty.¡± The man¡¯s eyes gleamed with amusement. ¡°Ah, so you¡¯ve turned into a bounty hunter now. Quite the fall from grace, don¡¯t you think?¡± He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. ¡°And how many bandits did you manage to kill aside from Radagos?¡± ¡°Seven, my lord,¡± Manes replied. ¡°Seven, you say?¡± the man chuckled. ¡°Well then, you¡¯ll receive 4,500 denars for your efforts. No need to verify it; I know you well enough.¡± Manes and I were about to leave when the man suddenly called out, his voice laced with malicious delight. ¡°Wait. I have an interesting task for you.¡± We stopped and turned to face him. The man¡¯s smile widened as he continued, ¡°I know how much you love saving villagers, Manes. So I have the perfect opportunity for you. I need you to save some villagers¡­ from me.¡± He laughed darkly, clearly enjoying our discomfort. ¡°I¡¯ve recently been assigned as governor to deal with some illegal poaching in nearby villages. The locals protect these poachers in exchange for meat and hides, all while the crown receives no taxes. I¡¯m too busy here to deal with such a trivial matter myself, so I¡¯d like you to handle it for me. Confiscate their goods, capture the poachers, or I¡¯ll send my garrison instead. And trust me, my men are¡­ difficult to control. If I send them, I can¡¯t guarantee what will happen to the villagers. Best you get it done quickly. I¡¯d rather not dirty my blade with peasant blood.¡± His words were delivered with such casual cruelty that it sent a chill down my spine. Manes nodded stiffly, clearly unwilling to argue. ¡°We¡¯ll complete the assignment, my lord,¡± he said, giving me a subtle signal to bow and leave. I did as instructed, feeling a strange mixture of anger and unease. Once outside, I turned to Manes. ¡°Who was that man?¡± I asked. Manes¡¯ face was grim. ¡°His name is Tadeos. He¡¯s the nephew of the king. I served in his army once¡­ before I deserted. As you heard, he hasn¡¯t forgotten.¡± I was stunned. ¡°And Nadea?¡± ¡°She was the governor here, but it seems she¡¯s gone. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happened, but whatever it is, we don¡¯t have time to dwell on it. We need to stop this poaching before Tadeos decides to slaughter those villagers himself. I trust you can prepare the squad by this evening. I¡¯ll gather more information and meet you back at the inn.¡± Manes left, and I stood there, contemplating the situation. Tadeos had played us well, using his power to intimidate Manes while assigning us a dangerous task without even mentioning the pay. His manipulation was obvious, but we had no choice. I returned to the inn and informed Silvana and the others of our new mission. The weight of the assignment settled heavily on my shoulders, but I knew we had to succeed. Lives were at stake, and failure wasn¡¯t an option. 10. Camp of Poachers Under the cover of night, our group made its way toward the poachers'' camp. Mannes had gathered reliable information suggesting that these poachers worked mostly at night, using the quiet hours to tan hides and prepare their illegal goods. With that in mind, we planned our approach, aiming to catch them when they were active, but not expecting an outright fight¡ªat least, not right away. I glanced at Mannes as we moved through the dense underbrush, the moonlight casting faint shadows on the ground. He looked calm, as he usually did, but I could tell by the way his eyes occasionally flickered toward me that something was on his mind. Finally, he spoke in a low voice. "You''re the one who''ll talk to them. I think you''re better suited for this than I am." "Why do you think that?" I asked, a little surprised. He sighed softly, looking at me with a thoughtful expression. "You dealt with those bandits back in the cave with a calm head and firm resolve. You didn''t just use brute force; you used your words, your wits, to get the upper hand. That kind of approach might be exactly what¡¯s needed here. These poachers are desperate, maybe even scared. If I go, they might think I¡¯m here to drag them to the gallows, but you¡­ you¡¯ve shown that you''re capable of more than just fighting. I believe you''re more suited for this delicate situation¡ªsomeone who can speak their language without making them feel cornered." I couldn¡¯t argue with that logic, though it felt like more responsibility than I wanted at the moment. Still, Mannes was right¡ªif I didn''t at least try to convince them, there could be a bloodbath before the night was over. The poachers were protecting their livelihoods, and with Tadeos breathing down our necks, failure wasn¡¯t an option. We reached the edge of the camp just as the smell hit us¡ªa thick, choking stench of rotting hides, blood, and wet earth. It was worse than I had expected. They were doing all their work in this makeshift camp, and the stench was a testament to how long they had been operating here. Silvana, who had scouted the area earlier, whispered, ¡°It¡¯s worse up close. Let me know if you need backup.¡± I nodded, steeling myself as I stepped into the camp. In the dim light of their campfire, I could make out a few figures bent over their work¡ªtanning hides and sharpening tools, unaware of our presence. I approached slowly, deliberately making noise as I walked. Startling them wouldn¡¯t help anyone, and I didn¡¯t want to give the impression that we were sneaking up on them. One of the poachers looked up, at a rough-looking man with scars across his face. He squinted at me, clearly confused but not immediately alarmed. ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked, his voice rough from years of shouting or drinking¡ªor both. ¡°I¡¯m not here to fight,¡± I said, raising my hands in a gesture of peace. ¡°I¡¯ve come to talk.¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°Talk? About what?¡± another poacher chimed in, this one younger but no less hardened by the life they led. ¡°About avoiding unnecessary bloodshed,¡± I replied. ¡°I know why you¡¯re here. I know what you¡¯re doing. And I understand why you¡¯re doing it. But there¡¯s a problem¡ªyou¡¯re caught between a rock and a hard place, and if you don¡¯t act soon, it won¡¯t just be you who suffers. Others will too.¡± The poachers exchanged glances, suspicion clear on their faces. The older man narrowed his eyes. ¡°We¡¯ve heard that kind of talk before. People come in, say they understand, and then they take what¡¯s ours. What makes you any different?¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m not here to take anything from you,¡± I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. ¡°But you need to know that the governor is aware of your operation. He¡¯s already sent us here to deal with the situation, and if we fail, he¡¯ll send his garrison. And you know what that means¡ªinnocent people will get hurt. Maybe even killed.¡± The younger poacher, who had been sharpening his knife, paused and looked at me more intently. ¡°You¡¯re saying he¡¯ll come after the village too?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°He¡¯ll use them as an example. You¡¯ve been supplying the villagers with meat and hides, and they¡¯ve been protecting you in return. But when the soldiers come, they won¡¯t care who¡¯s involved. They¡¯ll burn everything to the ground.¡± The camp grew quiet for a moment, the tension in the air palpable. The poachers were torn, and I could see that they hadn¡¯t fully considered the consequences of their actions. The older poacher spat on the ground, his voice filled with bitterness. ¡°So what? We surrender, and then what? We get hanged for poaching?¡± ¡°Not if we can make a deal,¡± I said. ¡°I can speak with the governor on your behalf. You¡¯ll have to give up the illegal trade, but if you cooperate, there¡¯s a chance to avoid the gallows. You can start over, maybe even find a way to work legally.¡± They were silent for a long moment, weighing their options. Finally, the older poacher spoke again, his voice gruff but less hostile. ¡°And you think you can convince the governor to go easy on us?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t promise anything,¡± I admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s your best shot. Otherwise, you¡¯ll be up against trained soldiers, and we both know how that¡¯ll end.¡± The younger poacher seemed to be considering my words carefully, glancing between the older man and the others in the camp. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± he said quietly. ¡°We¡¯ve already pushed our luck for too long. If the soldiers come, we¡¯re finished. And we can''t abandon our village in these times, I don''t want the people I know to suffer because of us.¡± The older poacher cursed under his breath but eventually nodded. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll cooperate. But you better keep your word. If we end up swinging from a noose, I¡¯ll haunt you.¡± I suppressed a sigh of relief. ¡°We¡¯ll leave in the morning. I¡¯ll make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.¡± As I turned to leave, I glanced back at the camp, feeling a mixture of triumph and uncertainty. Convincing them was only the first step. Now, I had to hope the governor would be reasonable enough to keep his end of the bargain. Even if not I will at least be saving the villagers. I should hurry back to Manes and tell him I had succeeded. The negotiations had gone better than expected, and I could already imagine the look on his face when he heard that the poachers had agreed to surrender. But before I could take more than a few steps, a sound stopped me in my tracks. At first, it was faint¡ªjust the distant rumble of hooves on the earth. But as the moments passed, the sound grew louder, more distinct. The neighing of horses and the steady beat of hooves approaching rapidly could only mean one thing: an army was heading straight for us. My heart raced as I turned my gaze toward the direction of the noise, straining to see through the darkness. The poachers were still unaware, but I knew we didn''t have much time. 11. Nadea The night was unsettling, with shadows dancing under the faint light of the moon. We had won the negotiations with the poachers, but the triumph quickly dissolved as the sound of hooves and distant shouts filled the air. The ground trembled under the weight of an approaching army, and we stood frozen, surrounded by the night and uncertainty. As the noise grew louder, the gleam of steel caught the moonlight. Soldiers encircled us, their weapons drawn and ready. The weight of the situation sank in¡ªwe had no chance if they decided to attack. Mannes glanced at me, his face pale but composed. Without speaking, we both understood. There was no way we could fight this. Even our victory with the poachers now felt insignificant. A commanding voice broke through the night. "Drop your weapons!" Mannes was the first to comply, releasing his sword. The rest of us followed suit including my men and the poachers, weapons clattering to the dirt. We raised our hands in surrender, praying that the leaders of this force wouldn¡¯t simply cut us down. From the ranks of the soldiers, a figure began to approach. A woman, sitting tall and proud atop a dark horse, dressed in elaborate, polished armour that gleamed under the moonlight. Her dark cloak trailed behind her, and her hood obscured most of her features, but her piercing eyes were visible, scanning each of us with calculated authority. Every move she made on her horse spoke of power and control. Her eyes settled on us, narrowing slightly. "Which one of you decided to start this little enterprise of illegal poaching?" she asked, her voice sharp and cold. I quickly stepped forward, knowing I had to explain before things got worse. "We¡¯re not poachers, my lady. We¡¯re mercenaries. We were sent by Tadeos, the governor, to deal with this issue. I convinced the poachers to surrender peacefully." At the mention of Tadeos, her eyes flared with anger. She shifted slightly on her horse, her gaze burning into me with fury. "Governor, you say?" Her voice was low but laced with venom. "Tadeos is no governor here. How dare you call him that in my presence!"This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. I swallowed hard, realizing I had struck a nerve. Her reaction was far stronger than I anticipated, and I could feel her displeasure ripple through the soldiers around us. "Forgive me, my lady," I said quickly, lowering my head. "I misspoke. We were only following orders." Her gaze stayed fixed on me for a few more agonizing moments before she spoke again. "Tadeos," she muttered under her breath as if the name itself disgusted her. "He may have sent you, but you answer to me now." Her voice rang with authority, and she turned her attention to the poachers. "So, these are the ones who agreed to surrender?" I nodded. "Yes, my lady. They¡¯ve agreed to cease their illegal activities and face justice." There was a brief pause as she scanned the poachers with disdain. "Justice, you say? so are they prepared to die ?" She had a concerned look. "They¡¯ll face justice, but not in the way Tadeos intended." With a sharp gesture, she signalled for her soldiers to move. They grabbed the poachers and began lining them up. One of her men brought out a heavy whip, its leather strands thick and menacing. The poachers¡¯ faces drained of colour as the woman dismounted her horse, now standing tall before them. "You will each receive ten lashes," she declared, her voice cold and final. "Consider it a gift of mercy, for I could do far worse." The poachers began to plead, but their words were cut off by the sound of the whip cracking through the air. Each strike echoed louder than the last, and the screams that followed seemed to linger in the night. I stood by, my stomach twisting, though I tried to hide it. Mannes kept his eyes forward, his expression as hard as stone. He had seen things like this before, but it never became easier to witness. When the punishment was finished, the poachers were released, battered and broken. They limped away into the shadows, their bodies marked by the lashes they¡¯d received. The woman turned her gaze back to Mannes and me, her expression unreadable. "As for you," she said, her voice now addressing us directly. "You will come with me to Jalmyrys. We have unfinished business, and I will not have you running back to Tadeos before I decide what¡¯s to be done." Mannes and I exchanged a glance. There was no point in arguing. This woman held all the power, and it was clear that we were now in her hands. She mounted her horse again with a swift, practised movement, and her soldiers began to form up around us. We were led out of the camp, and I felt the weight of everything that had transpired sitting heavily on my shoulders. We had managed to win over the poachers, but now we found ourselves under the control of someone far more dangerous. 12. Shifting Power The ride to Jalmyrys was long, the only sound filling the silence being the clatter of hooves against the packed earth. The weight of what had just occurred pressed down on me like the heat from the midday sun. I had barely escaped one fight by convincing the poachers to surrender, but now, we were walking into another¡ªa battle of politics and power, one I feared I was ill-prepared for. Beside me, Mannes rode in silence, the lines on his face tense. We had been apprehended by this armoured woman¡ªNadea, I had learned¡ªand though she had taken control of the situation, her anger toward Tadeos was unmistakable. I had inadvertently worsened things when I mentioned his name. She had nearly lost her temper when I called him "Governor." As we dismounted and were led inside the town, the true nature of the situation became clear. The people on the streets had spoken of Tadeos'' failure in hushed whispers, their eyes darting nervously toward the patrolling guards. The town had fallen into disrepair under his watch¡ªroads cracked, markets half-empty, and the stench of neglect hung in the air. He had bitten off more than he could chew by assuming the role of governor. Nadea guided me and Mannes into the main hall meanwhile our troops and Silvana waited outside, There was a large council that was already present in the hall. The tension in the room was palpable. The man himself, Tadeos, sat on a smaller throne at the far end, his face pale and his eyes avoiding the stern gaze of Nadea as she entered the hall. Her presence seemed to suffocate the room, the authority of the true governor bearing down on everyone present. As we approached, Tadeos rose unsteadily from his seat. He looked like a man cornered by his failures. "I see you''ve returned, Nadea," he said, attempting a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "I was just about to head out to... handle the situation." Nadea¡¯s lip curled in disdain as she approached him. "You mean the situation you¡¯ve neglected for months?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "The complaints have reached the council. After failing miserably at the war front You were sent to govern, not to hide from your responsibilities. Instead, you''ve left this town vulnerable, mismanaged, and on the brink of chaos." Tadeos stammered. "I¡ªI¡¯ve done what I could. The villages¡­ the villagers were the problem. They disobeyed! There were so many external threats, bandits, the poachers¡­" "They were minor threats," Nadea cut him off coldly. "Yet you, the ''governor,'' couldn¡¯t handle them. And now you dare to stand here and offer excuses?" Her eyes were hard, her voice brokering no argument. She turned to the council. "This man is no leader. He¡¯s a coward who sought refuge in this role to avoid the frontlines." Tadeos flinched at the accusation. He was visibly shaking now, clearly understanding what was coming next. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.Nadea didn''t stop. "You were sent here to protect these people, but your incompetence has only left them defenceless. Father has decided: you will no longer govern this town or its surrounding villages." There was a murmur in the room, and I could see Tadeos'' face crumble as the weight of her words settled in. He had no real power here. No allies. No escape. He wasn¡¯t being given a choice¡ªhe was being exiled from the position he had clung to. "You will be sent to Valandia," Nadea continued, "as an emissary. You will ask them for funds to support our war effort against the Battanians. Perhaps there, far from the responsibilities of governance, you might prove useful." Tadeos opened his mouth as if to protest, but nothing came out. His face was a mask of fear and frustration, a man trapped by his ineptitude. Nadea motioned for one of the guards, who approached Tadeos and escorted him out of the hall. His footsteps echoed through the chamber, a hollow reminder of his fall from grace. As soon as he left, Nadea turned back to us, her gaze settling on me and Mannes. "The poaching problem should have been resolved months ago," she said firmly. "Yet here we are, cleaning up after Tadeos'' failures. You mercenaries have done well, but this is only the beginning. This region needs real leadership and real action." Mannes stepped forward, a little hesitant. "What do you plan to do now, my lady?" Her gaze flicked to me, sharp and calculating. "First, we secure the towns and villages. Ensure their safety. The poachers need to be dealt with swiftly, but without the heavy hand Tadeos would have used. These people deserve justice, not cruelty." Mannes with his steady asked. "And what of Tadeos, my lady? Do you think the Valandians will even listen to him?" Nadea smiled with a cold, calculated expression. "Tadeos will be out of his depth there as he was here. But that is no longer our concern. The war against the Battanians is escalating, and if the Valandians refuse, then we must prepare to fight without them. I suggest you prepare yourselves. I have a task for you. I remember you, Mannes, and the reason why you left Tadeos''s army. I feel that you are the only mercenary that I can rely on for this specific task. Meet me in 2 days and gather around 25 men or women in your squad. Meanwhile, I will cover the expenses for you and your party''s accommodation and meals and you will get 10000 denars if you succeed." The meeting dispersed, and I followed Mannes out into the city streets, my mind swirling with thoughts. Tadeos, the man we had reluctantly served, had finally been ousted from his position, his punishment not as immediate as a blade but just as damning. Nadea, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with¡ªstrong, decisive, and nothing like her predecessor. The city, under her command, would soon rise again. But as Mannes and I prepared for what lay ahead, I couldn''t shake the uneasy feeling that the worst was yet to come. The Valandians, the Battanians, the political games of nobles¡ªit was all leading to something bigger, something darker. And we were caught right in the middle of it. 13. Admirer After stepping out of the chambers, I felt the cold air hit my face, a stark contrast to the tense heat inside the palace. It was hard to believe that in just a few moments, we had witnessed Tadeos being stripped of his power and exiled. His downfall was swift, and Nadea''s authority was absolute. But even though Tadeos was gone, the weight of the upcoming mission pressed heavily on me. I still had to inform the squad about the deal in two days. As I walked towards the courtyard, I saw Silvana standing there, waiting. She leaned against one of the stone columns, her eyes scanning the entrance as if expecting someone. The moment she saw me, her expression softened, and her eyes lit up as though she hadn¡¯t seen me in years. There was a brief warmth there, almost a look that someone might reserve for a long-lost friend or... something more. But it wasn¡¯t me she was focused on, not really. Before I could say a word, she stepped closer, her voice soft but eager. "So, you were with her, weren''t you? Nadea?" she asked, almost breathless. I chuckled at her eagerness. ¡°Yeah, I was.¡± Silvana looked at me like she was waiting for a revelation, her usual composed self now replaced with a raw curiosity that took me by surprise. "Tell me everything. What¡¯s she like? Is she as fierce as they say?" Her excitement caught me off guard, and I couldn¡¯t help but smile. It suddenly made sense why she was looking at me like that. The awe in her eyes wasn¡¯t for me¡ªit was for Nadea. She had been too stunned to say anything earlier when we passed by her on our way to Jalmyrys, but now, her fascination was evident. "I¡¯d love to chat about Nadea, but I¡¯ve got a lot on my plate right now," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. ¡°Tasks are piling up for the mercenaries: we need to recruit 15 more men, gather supplies, and I¡¯ve got to check on troop payments also we have a meeting with Nadea in 2 days.¡± Silvana crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "How about a deal then? You tell me more about her, and I¡¯ll take care of some of those tasks for you." I blinked, surprised. "You¡¯d do that?" She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes still gleamed with determination. "I¡¯m serious. I can help with recruiting. Besides, it''ll free you up to do the rest. And... maybe you could also try to bring me to one of her meetings" I laughed. It was an offer too tempting to pass up¡ªespecially with the recruitment deadline looming. "Alright, deal. But you better be good at picking people. We need reliable fighters, not just any drunks off the streets." Silvana gave a mock salute, her smile broadening. ¡°You¡¯ll see, I¡¯ve got an eye for talent.¡± As we walked through the bustling streets of Jalmyrys, I began to tell her more about Nadea¡ªthe real Nadea, not just the stories circulating among soldiers and villagers. "She¡¯s... intense. The kind of person who doesn''t waste words or tolerate failure. She called out Tadeos for all his incompetence and took charge without breaking a sweat. Honestly, I''ve never seen anything like it."Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Silvana¡¯s eyes widened as I spoke, hanging onto every word. "That sounds exactly like her. I knew she¡¯d be strong... but hearing it from you makes it real. She''s everything I imagined." "I suppose so," I said with a shrug. "But she¡¯s also not someone to cross. You could feel the tension in the air when she entered the room like everyone knew they were in the presence of real power. Tadeos didn¡¯t stand a chance against her." "Of course, he didn¡¯t," Silvana replied, almost scoffing at the thought. "He was a coward, hiding behind his title while the city suffered. Nadea is a real leader, someone who¡¯s willing to get her hands dirty if needed." I nodded in agreement. ¡°Yeah, and speaking of getting things done, I¡¯ll need to head to the supply market and check on the funds. Make sure we¡¯ve got enough for the next few weeks. You think you can handle recruiting while I do that?¡± She flashed me a confident smile. ¡°You¡¯ll have your men by the time you''re done. Just make sure you keep your end of the deal and tell me more about Nadea.¡± As I left Silvana to handle the recruitment, I made my way through the crowded streets of Jalmyrys. The city was bustling with activity, merchants haggling with customers, children running through the alleyways, and the distinct smell of spices and roasted meat hanging in the air. It was moments like this that reminded me how different this world was from the one I came from. The marketplace was as busy as ever, filled with vendors selling everything from weapons to food supplies. I checked in with a few suppliers, confirming our orders for rations, arrows, and basic medical supplies. As the quartermaster, it was my job to ensure that our mercenary band had what they needed to function¡ªwithout it, we¡¯d be finished before our next mission even began. As I haggled over prices and inspected goods, my thoughts drifted back to Nadea. The way she had taken control of the palace was impressive, yes, but also dangerous. She was sharp, calculating, and knew how to wield her power effectively. But there was also something unsettling about how easily she dismissed Tadeos, sending him away like he was nothing more than a nuisance. That kind of cold efficiency... made me wonder if she would treat us the same way if we ever failed her. Once I had secured the necessary supplies and confirmed payments, I headed back to meet up with Silvana. True to her word, she had managed to recruit a few potential mercenaries. They were rough around the edges, but they looked capable enough. ¡°Well?¡± she asked, arms crossed, a proud look on her face. ¡°What do you think? Did I deliver or what?¡± I gave her a nod of approval. ¡°Not bad. We¡¯ll see how they handle themselves in the field, but for now, they¡¯ll do also I only see 4 men didn''t I tell you to get 15 men anyways leave it we have one more day we will be able to do it.¡± We made our way back to the inn, the sun setting behind us. As we walked, I could see the excitement still bubbling beneath Silvana¡¯s calm exterior. She was eager to learn more about Nadea and the idea of meeting her in person thrilled her. I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. "Alright, alright, I¡¯ll tell you more. And I¡¯ll try to get you into that meeting. But just remember, She¡¯s powerful, yes, but she¡¯s also ruthless. You don¡¯t want to be on her bad side.¡± Silvana grinned, unfazed. ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances. Power like hers... it''s worth understanding." With the recruitment handled and the supplies secured, we returned to the inn, ready to rest and prepare for the next steps. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear¡ªNadea¡¯s influence over this city was only just the beginning, and we were now a part of whatever came next. 14. Nightmare The battlefield stretched endlessly before me. The sky was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh assaulting my senses. My grip tightened around the hilt of my sword, the metal slick with blood, some of it mine, but mostly theirs. My heart pounded in my chest, every beat echoing the rhythm of war¡ªviolent, relentless, unyielding. I could hear the screams. I could always hear the screams. Men crying for mercy, their voices hoarse and broken. I was supposed to care, wasn¡¯t I? The enemy was on their knees, hands raised in surrender. One of them¡ªa boy, barely a man¡ªlooked up at me with eyes wide, pleading. His sword had long since fallen to the ground, and his hands trembled in the air, his lips quivering. "Please¡­ mercy," he begged. My sword hovered above him, but I didn¡¯t hesitate. The weight of Tadeos'' orders, the expectations of the army, and the fear of being branded a traitor pressed down on me. There was no mercy. Not for them, not for us. I brought the blade down, silencing the boy¡¯s cries forever. And then, silence. The battlefield was suddenly devoid of sound, save for my ragged breathing. The faces of the dead stared up at me from the blood-soaked earth. I tried to turn away, but they were everywhere. I stumbled back, my vision blurring, and my chest tightening. "Mercy¡­ mercy¡­" The word echoed in my ears, but it wasn¡¯t the boy''s voice anymore. It was my own. The battlefield dissolved into a dark void, and I fell into it, my hands still stained with blood. I jolted awake, my heart racing, drenched in sweat. It took me a moment to realize I was no longer on the battlefield. The nightmare clung to me, its weight heavy on my chest. I sat up in bed, running a hand through my damp hair, trying to shake the images from my mind. The knock came again, louder this time, snapping me fully into the present. I threw the covers off and crossed the room, my hand instinctively brushing against the hilt of my sword resting by the door. I opened it, expecting one of our men with news, but the sight before me made me freeze. Standing there, after all these years, was Cassius. For a moment, I could hardly believe it. He looked older, and rougher around the edges, but it was him. The same Cassius I had fought beside, both in Garios¡¯ army and later under Tadeos. We had been through so much together and shared victories and losses, but our paths had diverged when I chose to stand up to Tadeos. "Mannes," Cassius greeted with a smirk, his voice carrying that familiar gruffness I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d missed. "You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost." I shook my head, a smile creeping onto my face despite the lingering heaviness of the nightmare. "I might as well have. Cassius, what the hell are you doing here?" Cassius stepped into the room without an invitation, typical of him, and clasped my hand with a firm grip. "I heard you were in town, and I thought it¡¯d be a shame if I didn¡¯t visit you. You¡¯ve been causing quite a stir around here, old friend." Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.I chuckled dryly. "I wouldn¡¯t say that. Just doing what needs to be done." Cassius looked around the room, nodding approvingly. "I¡¯ve heard. I¡¯ve also heard about what happened with Tadeos." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "You stood up to him. In front of the whole army, no less." I exhaled slowly, the memories of that day rushing back. "Someone had to. He gave orders that went against everything we fought for." Cassius nodded, his gaze dropping for a moment. "I wasn¡¯t as brave. I followed his orders. I pillaged that village when they refused to give up their harvest. Burned their homes, watched the families suffer." His voice grew quieter, laced with regret. "You were right, Mannes. I wasn¡¯t... And I¡¯ve had to live with that." I glanced away, the weight of his words sinking in. Cassius had always been a good man, but even good men could be caught in the tides of bad decisions. "We¡¯ve all made choices we regret," I said, my voice softer than before. "But you¡¯re here now. What¡¯s done is done." Cassius looked up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You know, it¡¯s good to see you again. After everything we¡¯ve been through... It almost feels like the old days, back when we fought for something real. Under Garios, we were soldiers with a purpose. Under Tadeos, we were just¡­" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. "Lost," I offered, and he nodded. There was a brief silence, the kind that only two veterans could share, filled with memories that didn¡¯t need to be spoken. Cassius cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Anyway, I hear you¡¯re putting together a mercenary group. Tadeos¡¯ army¡¯s disbanded now, and I¡¯m a free man. How about recruiting an old friend for a while? I could use some purpose again. And I¡¯d much rather fight alongside you than wander." I studied him for a moment, taking in the worn lines on his face, the scars that marred his skin, and the quiet desperation in his eyes. We had been through hell together, and while we had taken different paths, the bond we shared had never really been broken. "Of course, Cassius," I said with a grin. "I could use someone like you. It¡¯d be good to have you by my side again, like old times." Cassius¡¯ face lit up, and for a moment, it was like we were back in Garios¡¯ army, two soldiers fighting for a cause that mattered. He clapped me on the shoulder, his grip firm, but filled with an unspoken gratitude. "Good," he said. "It¡¯ll be just like the old days. We¡¯ll make sure this time we¡¯re fighting for something worth fighting for." As we sat down to share a drink and reminisce about the battles we¡¯d fought, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a weight lift off my shoulders. The nightmares would never truly go away, but having someone like Cassius by my side again¡ªsomeone who understood¡ªmade it all feel a little more bearable. For the first time in a while, I felt like I wasn¡¯t alone in this fight. Encyclopedia - 1 - Iron Hand of the Empire The Western side of the Empire, once a jewel in the grand tapestry of Calradia, was now on the brink of unravelling. Its cities, towering fortresses that lined the western edge of the empire, had always been the frontline for imperial defence. Arenicos, the last emperor, had struggled to keep these territories intact under the endless assaults from Valandia, Battania, and the ever-raiding Sturgians. However, it was not Arenicos¡¯ name that echoed in the halls of Zeonica, Jalmyrys, or Lageta. Instead, it was Garios who was whispered about¡ªGarios, the war hero of the Empire, who had once held the nation together with nothing more than his sword and an iron will. The people loved him, at least at first. His rise to power was the kind of legend that inspired generations, and in the heart of the Empire, many still clung to the hope that his leadership would bring the Empire back to its former glory. Garios was born in a small rural village near Zeonica. His father was a simple farmer, his mother a midwife, but neither could have predicted the destiny awaiting their son. At the age of twelve, Garios was already taller than most of his peers, and his spirit was as unyielding as the mountains. It was during a Valandian raid on Zeonica that Garios¡¯ story truly began. The city had been under siege for days. Supplies were running low, and the militia¡ªcomposed of farmers, blacksmiths, and merchants¡ªwas losing morale. Garios, despite his youth, refused to hide when the fighting began. Armed with nothing more than a spear he had fashioned from an old rake, he joined the defence. When the Valandians breached the gates and flooded the streets, Garios fought like a warrior. His bravery earned him a place in the governor¡¯s hall that night, where the city leaders marvelled at the boy who fought with the ferocity of a seasoned warrior. His bravery did not go unnoticed. By the time he was thirteen, Garios was offered a position in the imperial army. At first, the other recruits mocked him, calling him a "child with a sword," but Garios quickly proved them wrong. Within months, he outmatched every soldier in his cohort. His natural ability in battle, coupled with his sharp tactical mind, propelled him through the ranks at a speed unheard of in the empire¡¯s military history. By the time Garios turned eighteen, he had become the youngest commander in the empire, commanding legions of soldiers in battle. His career skyrocketed as he led countless campaigns, pushing back Valandian and Battanian forces time and time again. His exploits were celebrated across the Empire. In Zeonica, Garios was practically worshipped, his name evoking pride and admiration. In the Zeonica, his face became synonymous with the empire¡¯s resilience. However, it was during the 4th Great Calradian War that Garios cemented his legend. The Valandians, backed by the Aserai, launched a massive invasion into the western territories. They sought to break the empire¡¯s hold on the region and claim the rich lands for themselves. The empire was on the verge of collapse, and many believed that Arenicos would soon be forced to capitulate. But Garios wouldn¡¯t allow it. With only a fraction of the forces available to him, Garios led a daring counterattack against the Valandians and Aserai, striking deep into their territory and forcing their armies to retreat. His campaign was brutal and swift, earning him both admiration and fear. He became known as the Iron Hand of the Empire, a man who wielded his army like a weapon and bent the will of his enemies with sheer force. At the war''s end, Garios stood before Emperor Arenicos, victorious but worn from battle. The emperor, ever cautious, had promised Garios and his men land as a reward for their service¡ªfertile lands in the southern reaches of the empire, a prize worthy of the sacrifices they had made. But when the time came to fulfil this promise, Arenicos reneged. The lands were instead granted to nobles who had never seen the frontlines and who had no idea of the bloodshed endured by the soldiers who had fought for them.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Garios was outraged. He pleaded with the emperor and the Senate, demanding justice for his men, but his words fell on deaf ears. This betrayal planted the seed of rebellion in Garios¡¯ heart. He had sacrificed everything for the empire, only to be cast aside. His loyalty to Arenicos was shattered. When Emperor Arenicos died, Garios saw his opportunity. The empire was in chaos, and its leadership was fractured. Garios seized control of the Western territories, declaring himself ruler of the newly-formed Western Empire. The soldiers, who had followed him loyally through years of war, now stood behind him as he claimed the lands Arenicos had denied them. But while Garios was a brilliant tactician and an unparalleled commander on the battlefield, governance was an entirely different beast. He ruled with an iron fist, believing that strength was the answer to all problems. He imposed heavy war taxes, draining the wealth of the Western Empire to fuel his endless campaigns against the Southern Empire and the Battanians. He established a close relationship with the Valandians but it also deteriorated as they began to view him as little more than a warmonger. For Garios, war was all he knew. It was in war that he had earned his fame, his power, his empire. He believed that as long as the Western Empire remained strong militarily, nothing else mattered. But the strain of his policies soon began to show. The war taxes he imposed crushed the local economy. The citizens of the Western Empire, who had once celebrated his victories, now cursed his name. Nobles who had once stood by his side began to plot against him in secret, disillusioned by his refusal to focus on the internal needs of the empire. Worse still was the policy of strict enlistment. Every able-bodied man and woman in the Western Empire was required to serve in the military. For Garios, this was a necessity. His empire was constantly at war, and he needed soldiers. But this policy came at a cost. Farmers were pulled from their fields, and merchants were pulled from their shops. The economy, already weakened by war, began to collapse. And when Garios began seizing land from farmers to give to his retired soldiers¡ªmen who did not know how to cultivate crops¡ªthe situation spiralled into disaster. Famine struck the Western Empire, and the people suffered. For all his strength, Garios had no idea how to govern. He ruled as though he were still on the battlefield, believing that brute force could solve any problem. But the problems of governance were not so easily solved. His daughter, Nadea, did her best to manage the day-to-day affairs of the empire, both in terms of governance and on the frontlines, but it was a losing battle. As capable as she was, Nadea could not fix everything. Garios¡¯ obsession with war blinded him to the needs of his people. He continued to pour resources into his military, believing that as long as his armies were strong, the empire would survive. But the cracks in the foundation of his rule were growing larger by the day. Even in the heart of Zeonica, where Garios was still respected, whispers of dissent grew louder. Merchants lamented the heavy taxes, farmers cursed the loss of their lands, and the common folk feared the constant threat of enlistment. His soldiers, once loyal and proud, were beginning to question his leadership. Despite all of this, Garios remained steadfast in his belief that war was the answer. He had built his empire with blood and steel, and he would defend it with the same. But as the Valandians distanced themselves from the Western Empire, and the Southern Empire rallied its forces for another strike, it became clear that the Western Empire¡¯s greatest threat was not external¡ªit was Garios himself. Nadea, ever loyal to her father, did what she could. She managed the empire¡¯s dwindling resources, negotiated with the few remaining friendly nobles, and tried to stem the tide of unrest. But there was only so much she could do. If Garios did not change his ways, the empire would crumble, not from an invasion, but from within. As Garios continued to lead his armies into battle, oblivious to the suffering of his people, the question on everyone¡¯s mind was simple: How long could the Iron Hand of Garios hold the empire together before it shattered completely? 15. Departure After gathering 23 men, our company stood at 26 strong, including Mannes, Silvana, Cassius, and me. Originally, I had planned to recruit only enough to round out our numbers to 25, but the evening before, Mannes approached me with an unexpected addition¡ªhis old friend from his time in Tadeos¡¯ army. Cassius. Cassius was a sight to behold, a hulking man with a bulky frame and a face marked by scars, one of which ran across his left eye. Despite his intimidating appearance, there was something soft about him. During our conversations, I couldn¡¯t help but notice how he always seemed to avoid looking me directly in the eyes. It was almost comical, this huge man with the face of a battle-hardened warrior, acting timid around a stranger. But I could tell, through his rough exterior, that he was loyal to Mannes, and that was enough for me. A man like that doesn¡¯t follow just anyone into battle, and if Mannes trusted him, so would I. The preparations for the mission went smoothly enough. The men were equipped, the supplies checked, and everyone seemed ready for what lay ahead. Once everything was in order, the four of us¡ªMannes, Silvana, Cassius, and I¡ªmade our way to the governor¡¯s palace. Nadea had given us an appointment for this morning, and we waited inside the grand halls, anticipating the briefing. I couldn¡¯t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. Escort missions weren¡¯t usually this formal, and I had a gut feeling there was more to this one. The governor¡¯s palace was an imposing structure, filled with marble columns, intricate tapestries, and the subtle scent of incense. It was a far cry from the mud-caked roads and dusty barracks we were used to. The waiting room itself was enough to remind us of the gulf between mercenaries like us and nobles like Nadea. Silvana leaned casually against one of the walls, clearly less fazed by the opulence than I was, while Cassius stood by, silent as ever, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting an ambush. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of Nadea¡¯s servants beckoned us inside. The governor¡¯s chambers were grand, and Nadea herself stood at the centre, a map of the western regions of the Empire laid out on a large oak table. Her eyes flicked toward us as we entered, and I could tell she was assessing each of us. ¡°You brought the whole party,¡± she said, a slight edge to her tone, her eyes narrowing at Mannes. ¡°I typically expect only the leaders of groups to attend important meetings like this, Mannes. But I see you brought them all.¡± There was a pause as she let the words hang in the air. Mannes shifted slightly, though he didn¡¯t say anything. I could feel the tension building in the room. ¡°I know you trust them, but you¡¯re naive, Mannes,¡± Nadea continued, her voice sharp. ¡°You spent a long time in Tadeos¡¯ service. Surely you understand by now that the world is cruel. Trusting too many people can get you killed.¡± Her words cut through the air, and for a brief moment, I felt as though we were being chastised like children. But then, just as quickly, her expression softened. ¡°But,¡± she added, her voice gentler now, ¡°if you were like any other man, I would never have trusted this assignment to you. You¡¯ve earned your place. If you trust them, then I trust them as well.¡± Her words hung in the air for a moment, and I found myself standing a little taller. Nadea wasn¡¯t one to give compliments lightly, and it was clear that her respect for Mannes ran deep. ¡°Now,¡± she said, gesturing to the map spread out before her, ¡°let¡¯s talk about the assignment.¡± We all moved closer to the table, our eyes scanning the routes marked out in red ink. Nadea began explaining the details, her tone becoming more formal and precise.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°This is an escort mission, but it has two parts,¡± she explained, her finger tracing a line from the city of Rhotae to Lageta. ¡°The first part is straightforward: escort Tadeos to the Valandian city of Charas. He¡¯s been assigned as an emissary to negotiate funding for our war effort against the Battanians.¡± I felt a slight shift in the air at the mention of Tadeos. The name still carried a certain weight, though not in a good way. He may have been stripped of power, but his presence still loomed large over us. Nadea continued, ¡°Once you reach Charas, you¡¯ll be tasked with receiving a package from the local lord there. That package must be delivered to the lords in Lageta, without fail. These two parts are interconnected, and failure in either will be unacceptable.¡± The room was silent as she spoke, her words carrying an undeniable gravity. This wasn¡¯t a simple escort mission¡ªit was critical to the empire¡¯s strategy. ¡°There¡¯s more,¡± Nadea said, leaning over the map and pointing to the marked route. ¡°You¡¯ll follow a path from Rhotae to Lageta, then to Charas. This route is designed to avoid camping overnight in open areas, which would leave you vulnerable to attacks. We¡¯ve received reports of increased bandit activity in the region, as well as potential movements from the Battanians. You are to avoid unnecessary risks. Stick to the path, and do not deviate.¡± I nodded, already considering the logistics in my mind. The path was straightforward, but it left little room for error. ¡°And before you ask,¡± Nadea added, as if reading my thoughts, ¡°you won¡¯t be alone on this mission. I¡¯m sending twenty equites with you. These cavalrymen are part of my bodyguard unit, and they will assist in ensuring Tadeos¡¯ safety, as well as protecting the package.¡± A murmur went through our group. Twenty equites? That was no small force. Cavalrymen were some of the best-trained soldiers in the empire. Their presence gave us some sense of security, but it also raised a troubling question: why was such a large force necessary? I glanced at Mannes, who seemed deep in thought, and then back at Nadea. Gathering my courage, I spoke up, my voice steady. ¡°So, what exactly are we expecting on our way to Charas?¡± Nadea¡¯s eyes flicked toward me, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like hesitation. But it passed quickly, and her expression remained composed. ¡°There are multiple factors at play,¡± she said. ¡°As I mentioned, bandit activity has increased in the area, likely due to the chaos caused by the ongoing wars. You¡¯ll need to be vigilant. But the real threat may come from the Battanians. They¡¯ve been pushing southward, and while I don¡¯t expect a full-scale invasion, they may have sent scouts or raiding parties.¡± She paused, her gaze settling on each of us in turn. ¡°This mission is important to the stability of the empire, and there are those who would want to see it fail. You need to be prepared for anything.¡± Her words sent a chill down my spine. This wasn¡¯t just a simple escort job. We were walking into a potential war zone, and if the Battanians had any interest in disrupting our efforts, they wouldn¡¯t hesitate to strike. Nadea straightened, her eyes hardening once again. ¡°You¡¯ve been given all the information you need. I trust you will not disappoint.¡± With that, the meeting was concluded. We exchanged a few more formalities, and then the four of us left the governor¡¯s palace, our minds heavy with the weight of the mission ahead. As we stepped outside, the midday sun hit us, and I felt the tension ease slightly. Mannes glanced at me, his brow furrowed. ¡°What do you think?¡± I shrugged. ¡°I think we¡¯re walking into something bigger than we realize. But we¡¯ve got the men, we¡¯ve got the supplies, and now we¡¯ve got twenty cavalrymen at our backs. We¡¯ll make it through.¡± Mannes nodded, though I could see the concern still etched on his face. This mission was a test, not just of our abilities, but of our loyalty to the empire¡ªand to Nadea. I caught a glance at Silvana. Her usual sharp, confident demeanour vanished, replaced by an almost distant look in her eyes. She walked beside us, but it was as if she was somewhere else entirely. I had seen her like this before, back when we first rode into Jalmyrys and she laid eyes on Nadea for the first time. But now, after being in the same room as the woman she so clearly admired, she was completely lost in thought. Silvana had always been tough, fierce, and unshakable, but something about Nadea seemed to have shaken her in a way I didn¡¯t fully understand. It wasn¡¯t fear¡ªmore like awe, or maybe something deeper. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but I knew better. She would talk when she was ready, and until then, I¡¯d let her process whatever it was that had her so entranced by Nadea. With twenty equites riding alongside us, we would soon find out just how deep that trust ran. 16. Road to Rhotae After our conversation with Nadea, we didn¡¯t waste any time. Soon, we were on our way to Rhotae, the sun hanging directly overhead. Despite the sun¡¯s intensity, a gentle breeze helped take the edge off, making the journey more bearable. We only stopped a few times to rest, but we kept a good pace overall. It wasn¡¯t easy keeping everyone in line, especially when trying to match the speed of those on horseback with those of us on foot. The equites rode behind us with Tadeos in their ranks and some of them were scouting ahead, keeping a close eye on the terrain. I wasn¡¯t too worried about being ambushed this deep in Western Empire territory, but the possibility of a Battanian raiding party always loomed. They were unpredictable, and we couldn¡¯t afford to take any chances. The equites, as expected, followed Mannes'' every word. Mannes had once been a menavlion in the Imperial Army, a senior infantry officer. Even though the equites were cavalrymen, his rank commanded their respect, and they obeyed his instructions without question. The real challenge wasn¡¯t the equites¡ªit was managing the recruits. As much as they were eager to prove themselves, many of them lacked discipline. Cassius, however, seemed to have that under control. His sharp, insulting tongue worked wonders when it came to keeping the newer recruits in line. Whenever someone lagged behind or ignored an order, Cassius was there to throw a cutting remark their way, and it wasn¡¯t long before everyone started falling into formation. With Mannes and Cassius handling most of the work, I found myself with some unexpected free time. I took the opportunity to turn to Silvana, who was walking alongside me, her eyes scanning the road ahead. ¡°Tell me about Rhotae,¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a bit, but if we¡¯re going to meet their lord, I should probably know more.¡± Silvana looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. ¡°Rhotae is a fortress city, built on top of the mountains. Its position gives it natural protection, making it nearly impossible to besiege. Even during the worst of the wars, it was one of the few cities that never fell. The surrounding villages have fertile land and harvests are usually abundant, so starving the city out was never an option either.¡± ¡°Sounds like it¡¯s been through a lot,¡± I said. ¡°It has,¡± Silvana continued. ¡°Only a few times in history has it ever been conquered, and each time, it came at great cost and through sheer luck or clever strategy. No ordinary commander could take it.¡± ¡°That explains why it¡¯s still standing,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°And what about the lord?¡± ¡°Desporion,¡± she said, ¡°head of the Lonalion Clan. The Lonalions are fierce warriors, and Desporion himself is no different. He¡¯s ruled Rhotae for a long time. From what I¡¯ve heard, he¡¯s earned a reputation for being both wise and relentless.¡± Her words lingered in my mind as we continued walking. After nearly nine hours of travel, we finally arrived at the city. It was nearly midnight, the darkness of the night surrounding us as we approached the towering gates of Rhotae. Despite the lateness of the hour, the city guards were on high alert. We were lucky that we hadn¡¯t been ambushed during the journey, but being deep in the Western Empire¡¯s territory, it wasn¡¯t surprising that things were relatively calm.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. When we reached the gates, Mannes handed over the documents Nadea had entrusted us with. The guards took a moment to read through them before allowing us to pass. One of the officers stepped forward, his face tired but polite. ¡°You¡¯ve arrived late,¡± the officer said. ¡°The Lord will see you in the morning. For now, you¡¯ll be provided with accommodation and food. Rest up.¡± I gave a nod of thanks, feeling the weariness of the long journey settling into my bones. We were escorted to an inn within the city, where we were shown to our rooms and given a simple meal. It wasn¡¯t much, but after a long day of travel, it felt like a feast. The next morning, Mannes, Cassius, and I rose early, leaving the others behind to rest. The recruits, equites, and Silvana were still fast asleep, but we didn¡¯t want to keep Desporion waiting. As we approached the lord¡¯s estate, I felt a sense of anticipation building within me. I¡¯d heard so much about this man, and now we were about to meet him face to face. Desporion was waiting for us in his grand hall. He was an older man, probably around sixty years old, with deep-set eyes and the kind of weathered face that told you he had seen his fair share of the world. His posture was straight, his gaze sharp, and though age had begun to take its toll on him, there was still an undeniable strength in the way he carried himself. Our meeting with him was brief but cordial. After exchanging pleasantries, Desporion welcomed us to Rhotae, letting us know that we could stay as long as we needed. He seemed to understand that our mission was of great importance, though he didn¡¯t pry for details. ¡°I hope your stay here is restful,¡± Desporion said. ¡°Rhotae is a city that welcomes those in service to the Empire. You are safe here. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask.¡± We thanked him for his hospitality, but just as we were about to take our leave, Desporion added something that caught our attention. ¡°There¡¯s a tournament being held this morning,¡± he said, glancing between the three of us. ¡°It¡¯s nothing grand¡ªjust a regular tournament for entertainment purposes. The rewards are meagre, but if your men need a way to test their mettle, they are welcome to participate. Or if you prefer, you can watch from the stands.¡± Mannes exchanged a glance with Cassius and me, his brow furrowed in thought. Then, he turned to Desporion. ¡°A tournament could be just what we need,¡± he said. ¡°Our recruits are fresh, and some of them could use the experience of fighting in a controlled environment. What are the rules of the team fight?¡± Desporion smiled faintly as if pleased by Mannes¡¯ interest. ¡°The rules are simple,¡± he explained. ¡°Teams are formed, and each team must fight until one side is either knocked out or surrenders. All weapons are blunted, of course¡ªthis is a tournament for sport, not death. The goal is to test skill and endurance, not to take lives.¡± I listened carefully, excitement bubbling up inside me. A tournament wasn¡¯t something I¡¯d expected, but it sounded like the perfect opportunity to see what our recruits were made of. It would give them a chance to bond, fight as a unit, and face a challenge without the risk of losing their lives in a real battle. As Desporion continued explaining the rules, I could see the gears turning in Mannes¡¯ mind. He wasn¡¯t just thinking about the recruits¡ªhe was thinking about the bigger picture. This tournament wasn¡¯t just an opportunity for training. It was a chance for our group to prove itself, and gain recognition in a city that valued strength and martial prowess above all else. By the time Desporion had finished, Mannes was nodding in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ll participate,¡± he said, his voice firm. ¡°It¡¯ll be a good opportunity for all of us.¡± I felt a surge of excitement. The recruits had no idea what they were about to be thrown into, but I was genuinely looking forward to what came next for the first time since we¡¯d set out on this mission. This tournament was going to be more than just a test of skill¡ªit was going to be a test of our strength as a group. And I had a feeling it would be the first of many. 17. Tournament The sun had barely begun its ascent over the mountains when the preparations for the tournament were underway. The early morning air was cool, but there was an undeniable buzz of excitement in the city of Rhotae. Merchants were setting up their stalls, children were running through the streets, and locals gathered near the arena to secure a good spot for the upcoming event. The city was alive, and despite the seriousness of our mission, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a rush of anticipation. Mannes, Cassius, and I spent some time discussing strategy. We were participating in a 20 vs 20 format. Me and Cassius would be leading a small group of five of our men while Mannes will lead the rest of them into the tournament, while the equites, as expected, would sit this one out. They were bodyguards, after all¡ªcavalrymen trained for protection, not for the spectacle of combat in an arena. Besides, this tournament was about testing our recruits and seeing how they handled themselves in a controlled environment. It wasn¡¯t just for sport. For us, it was a way to mold these men into a cohesive unit. The arena was simple, a large circular pit dug into the earth with wooden barricades forming the perimeter. Spectators gathered around the top, eager to see the teams clash. I could feel the weight of their eyes on us as we stepped into the sandy pit. Mannes stood tall to my right, his ever-commanding presence making him seem like a figure from legend. Cassius, on my left, was a wall of muscle and scars, his expression unreadable as always. The five men we were leading were a mix of recruits and seasoned veterans, though none of them had fought together before. ¡°This¡¯ll be interesting,¡± Cassius muttered, glancing at me. ¡°Not the usual battlefield, is it?¡± I grinned. ¡°No, but it¡¯s not the usual fight either.¡± Mannes gave a nod, his eyes scanning the arena. ¡°Stick to the plan,¡± he said, his voice low but firm. ¡°We work together, we win. Simple as that.¡± Our opponents were already in the ring, another team of mercenaries led by an experienced fighter from Rhotae. They looked well-trained, each of them equipped with blunted swords, maces, and shields. I could tell they had been through their share of battles, but I wasn¡¯t worried. I had a strategy in mind, and I knew exactly how to play it. The rules were clear. Teams would fight until one side was knocked out or forced to surrender. All weapons were blunted, but the blows would still hurt. It was about endurance, teamwork, and, above all, strategy. And if there was one thing I¡¯d learned from my time as a mercenary, it was that brute strength wasn¡¯t everything. The signal to start was given, and the arena erupted in noise. Mannes was the first to move, leading our group forward with a powerful stride. His men followed closely, forming a tight formation. Cassius stayed back with me, watching as Mannes¡¯ group made the initial push. It was clear from the outset that the Rhotae mercenaries weren¡¯t going to make this easy. They met Mannes¡¯ group head-on, shields raised, weapons swinging.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Mannes was in his element. He moved with a precision that only years of experience could bring, his blunted sword crashing against the opposing team¡¯s shields. His men followed his lead, and for a while, it seemed like we had the upper hand. But that¡¯s when the other team started using their numbers to overwhelm us. Mannes was holding his own, but the recruits weren¡¯t used to fighting in such close quarters. I could see cracks forming in their defense. ¡°Now,¡± I whispered to Cassius. Cassius grunted acknowledgment, and we moved. While Mannes and his group were engaged in the main fight, Cassius and I flanked around the side, using the chaos to our advantage. The Rhotae mercenaries were so focused on Mannes and the recruits that they didn¡¯t see us coming. Mannes had the raw strength and experience, but I knew we needed more than that to win. Cassius and I were the key to outmaneuvering them. As the fight raged on in the center of the arena, we slipped around, targeting the mercenaries who had broken off from the main group. Cassius was a force of nature. His large frame barreled into one of the mercenaries, knocking him to the ground with a single blow. I followed, my blunted sword striking the back of another opponent¡¯s leg, sending him stumbling forward. In the chaos, we managed to isolate two of their fighters, taking them out of the fight before they even realized what was happening. With their numbers thinned, it became easier to push them back. Mannes, seeing the opening, rallied his men and pressed forward. The recruits, though still struggling, were finding their rhythm. They worked together to take down one of the remaining mercenaries, their strikes more coordinated now. But it wasn¡¯t over yet. The leader of the Rhotae mercenaries¡ªa tall, grizzled man with a face full of scars¡ªcharged at me. His blunted mace swung toward my head, and I barely managed to dodge in time. He was fast, faster than I expected, but I had something he didn¡¯t¡ªstrategy. Instead of engaging him directly, I used the momentum of his attacks against him. Every time he swung, I sidestepped, forcing him to overextend. It was a risky move, but I knew I couldn¡¯t match him in raw strength. So, I relied on speed and patience, waiting for the right moment. When it came, it was almost too easy. The man swung his mace wide, leaving his side completely open. I lunged forward, driving the hilt of my sword into his ribs. He let out a grunt of pain and stumbled backward, clutching his side. I didn¡¯t give him a chance to recover. A quick strike to his legs sent him sprawling to the ground. I stepped back, breathing heavily but victorious. The rest of the fight was already winding down. Mannes and Cassius had taken care of the remaining mercenaries, and our recruits had done better than expected, holding their own in the chaos. The signal to stop was given, and the arena fell silent. We had won. I turned to look at Mannes and Cassius, both of them catching their breath. Cassius, despite his usual gruff demeanor, gave me a rare smile. ¡°Not bad,¡± he muttered. ¡°I thought you were done for there.¡± I shrugged, still catching my breath. ¡°I told you I had a plan.¡± Mannes clapped me on the shoulder, his eyes gleaming with approval. ¡°Good work. We played to our strengths.¡± I looked around the arena, taking in the aftermath. The recruits, though battered and bruised, were grinning from ear to ear. This wasn¡¯t just a victory for us¡ªit was a victory for them too. They had proven themselves, and in doing so, they had become part of something bigger. As we left the arena, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a surge of pride. We had done more than just win a tournament. We had forged a bond, and at that moment, I knew we were ready for whatever came next. And the road ahead was long. 18. Lie The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains, casting a golden hue over the streets of Rhotae as our group made its way back to the inn. The tournament had left us bruised and battered, but the victory had given everyone a sense of accomplishment. The recruits, especially, seemed to walk a little taller, their confidence bolstered by their performance in the arena. I could see the pride on their faces as they exchanged stories of their fights, each one embellishing their achievements just a little more. I lagged, my thoughts drifting back to the fight. I had played my part, flanking the enemy when it counted, but there was a part of me that couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I had gotten too comfortable at the moment. The strategy had worked, and I knew it would. After all, I had played similar scenarios a thousand times in VR games back in my world. But here, in this world, it felt different¡ªmore real, more dangerous. As we approached the inn, Mannes slowed his pace to walk beside me. His face was thoughtful, and I could tell there was something on his mind. We hadn¡¯t spoken much after the tournament, but now that the excitement had died down, I figured he had questions. ¡°You did well today,¡± Mannes said after a moment, his voice low but sincere. ¡°You¡¯ve done well since the beginning. You¡¯ve solved more problems than most would even know how to handle.¡± I glanced at him, unsure where this was going. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just me. Cassius and the others¡ª¡± Mannes waved me off. ¡°Cassius did his part, and so did the recruits, but I¡¯m talking about you.¡± He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to figure me out. ¡°You¡¯ve handled everything we¡¯ve come across with a level of skill I didn¡¯t expect. From the bandits in that cave to the negotiations with the poachers, and even today with that flanking maneuver in the tournament. It¡¯s clear you¡¯ve got experience.¡± I felt a slight tightening in my chest. Experience. That word weighed on me in a way that Mannes couldn¡¯t possibly understand. Sure, I had experience¡ªyears of it. But none of it came from the world we were in now. All of my training, my tactics, my knowledge had come from VR games, simulations that felt real but were just lines of code at the end of the day. How was I supposed to explain that to him? He must have noticed my hesitation because he gave me a sideways glance, his brow furrowed. ¡°Look, Augustus, I¡¯ve been in the army a long time. I¡¯ve served under Tadeos and Garios. I¡¯ve fought in more battles than I can count, and I¡¯ve seen men come and go. But you¡¯re different. You fight and lead like someone who¡¯s been in the army for years. And yet¡­¡± He trailed off, his gaze fixed on the horizon. ¡°Yet you said you have no previous experience with the army. How is that possible?¡± I knew the question was coming, but it still caught me off guard. I quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the cobblestone street beneath my feet as I thought about how to respond. What was I supposed to say? That I¡¯d spent years mastering strategy and combat in a virtual world? That the skills he was praising were the product of countless hours spent in front of a VR console, not on a battlefield? Of course, I couldn¡¯t tell him that. Not only would it raise too many questions, but it would also reveal too much about where I came from. No one here would understand. This world had its own rules, its history. I had to play by those rules if I was going to survive.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. So, I did what anyone in my position would do: I lied. ¡°I¡¯ve been part of a few mercenary groups before,¡± I said, trying to keep my tone casual. ¡°I may not have served in the imperial army, but I¡¯ve had my fair share of battles. Mercenary work can be just as brutal as the frontlines, and you learn quickly or you don¡¯t survive.¡± Mannes raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. ¡°Mercenary groups, huh? I didn¡¯t take you for the type. You seem¡­ different from the usual cutthroats and sellswords I¡¯ve come across.¡± I shrugged, forcing a grin. ¡°I suppose I¡¯m not your typical mercenary.¡± He chuckled at that, but I could see the curiosity still simmering in his eyes. Mannes wasn¡¯t one to let things go easily, and I knew he would keep digging if I didn¡¯t give him more. I needed to sell this story and make it convincing. ¡°I was young when I joined my first group,¡± I continued, weaving the lie as naturally as I could. ¡°Didn¡¯t know what I was getting myself into at first. But it paid, and I needed the money. The work was rough, and I saw some things I¡¯d rather forget, but it taught me how to fight, and how to think on my feet. I guess that¡¯s why I¡¯m able to handle things the way I do.¡± Mannes nodded slowly, taking in my words. ¡°Makes sense,¡± he said. ¡°Mercenary life is tough, no doubt about that. But still¡­ most mercenaries don¡¯t think strategically. They fight for the coin, not for honor or duty. You¡­ you think like a soldier. You¡¯ve got discipline, tactics. That¡¯s rare.¡± I swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn¡¯t push further. ¡°I¡¯ve always preferred to think things through. Fighting without a plan is a good way to get yourself killed.¡± Mannes grunted in agreement. ¡°You¡¯re right about that. And you¡¯ve proven it more than once.¡± He glanced at me again, his expression softening. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re with us, Augustus. Men like you are hard to come by. You¡¯ve got a good head on your shoulders, and I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t impressed.¡± There it was again¡ªthe praise that made me feel both proud and uncomfortable. Part of me wanted to accept it, to revel in the fact that I had done well. But another part of me¡ªthe part that knew the truth¡ªfelt like a fraud. I wasn¡¯t some battle-hardened mercenary. I was just a guy who had played too many games and found himself stuck in a world where those skills somehow translated into survival. But I couldn¡¯t let that show. Mannes trusted me, and that trust was valuable. I needed him to believe in me, to keep relying on me. So, I forced a smile and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m just doing my part. We all are.¡± We walked in silence for a while after that, the weight of the conversation hanging between us. Mannes seemed content with my explanation, but I could tell there was still a part of him that wasn¡¯t entirely convinced. He was too seasoned not to notice when something didn¡¯t add up. But for now, he let it go. As we reached the inn, the sounds of laughter and conversation from the recruits filled the air. They were celebrating the victory, unaware of the deeper questions that had just been raised. I looked at them, at their smiling faces, and felt a strange sense of responsibility. They didn¡¯t know me, not really. None of them did. But they followed me, and trusted me, and I had to live up to that trust, no matter what. Mannes clapped me on the shoulder before heading inside. ¡°Get some rest. We¡¯ve got a long road ahead of us.¡± I nodded, watching as he disappeared into the inn. I stood there for a moment, staring up at the sky, my mind racing. The lie I had just told felt heavier than I expected, but it was necessary. I had no choice. Because in this world, the truth could get me killed. 19. Rendezvous After the tournament in Rhotae, we decided to rest for the remainder of the day. The fighting had left us sore and bruised, but our spirits were high after the victory. I spent the evening in quiet reflection, thinking over the events of the past few days¡ªhow far we had come and how much farther we still had to go. By the next morning, we were ready to depart for Lageta, a city I had only heard about in passing. Silvana, always eager to share her knowledge of the Empire, spoke of Lageta¡¯s rich culture as we traveled. ¡°It¡¯s one of the jewels of the Western Empire,¡± she explained as we walked side by side. ¡°Known for its architecture, its art, and its wealth. The Dionicos Clan has ruled over it for generations. The current leader, Crotor, is a renowned warrior fighting on the front lines for Garios. His son and daughter are with him, fighting both the Battanians and the Southern Empire. They¡¯re all respected as fierce defenders of the Empire.¡± She paused for a moment, her eyes scanning the horizon. ¡°But with all of them away at war, the city is left in the hands of Lysica, Crotor¡¯s wife. She¡¯s been governing in their absence, though I¡¯ve heard rumors that she¡¯s fallen ill recently.¡± I nodded, taking it all in. "So who¡¯s running the city right now?" ¡°A local noble, from what I¡¯ve heard,¡± Silvana replied. ¡°Someone close to the Dionicos family, though I don¡¯t know much about him. He¡¯s probably handling things until Crotor or his children return.¡± By the time we arrived in Lageta that evening, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the city¡¯s walls. From a distance, it was easy to see why Lageta had earned such a reputation. Its towers and buildings were built with intricate designs, the stonework a testament to the skill of the craftsmen who had built it. The city had a unique charm, with its blend of imperial architecture and local artistry. As we approached the gates, I couldn¡¯t help but admire the view. The streets were lively with merchants and townsfolk, even at this late hour. It was clear that, despite the ongoing war, Lageta remained a thriving hub of activity. But there was a sense of tension in the air as well, a subtle reminder that the war was never far from anyone¡¯s mind. After talking with the city guards and presenting our papers, we were informed of some troubling news. Lysica, Crotor¡¯s wife, was indeed sick, and in her place, a local noble had taken over the day-to-day governance of the city. Normally, this wouldn¡¯t be an issue, but the noble refused to meet with us. Despite our official business on behalf of Nadea, we were denied entry into the palace. The guards had relayed the message, but the noble, for reasons unknown to us, had turned us away. I could feel the frustration simmering beneath my calm exterior as we made our way back from the palace gates. Mannes was equally displeased, his jaw clenched in silent anger. It wasn¡¯t just the inconvenience of being denied a meeting¡ªit was the blatant disrespect. We were here on official orders, and to be turned away as common mercenaries rubbed us the wrong way. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to waste here,¡± Mannes muttered, his voice low. Cassius, ever the practical one, simply shrugged. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t want to meet, then we¡¯ll make do. There¡¯s no point in forcing it.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. With no other choice, we booked an inn in the city, paying for food and lodging out of our own pockets. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but at least the inn was comfortable enough, and the food, though simple, was hearty. Once we had settled in, most of the group went off to their rooms, exhausted from the journey. But I couldn¡¯t rest just yet. After everything was settled, I decided to spend some time exploring the city. The frustration from earlier was still gnawing at me, and I figured that checking out the markets and wares of Lageta might offer a distraction. I had heard much about the craftsmanship of this place, and I was curious to see what the city had to offer. I wandered through the streets, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling market district. The stalls were filled with a variety of goods, from finely woven fabrics to beautifully crafted weapons and armor. The air was filled with roasted meats and freshly baked bread. It was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere we had felt outside the palace. As I passed by a stall overflowing with books, paintings, jewelry, and even weapons, one merchant in particular caught my eye. His stand was more like an ¡°all-you-can-get¡± store, cluttered with a wide assortment of goods. The merchant himself was a thin, wiry man with a sharp smile and quick eyes, constantly darting around as if he was mentally calculating every passerby¡¯s potential. ¡°Ah, a traveler!¡± he called out, his voice smooth and enticing. ¡°Come, take a look at my wares. I¡¯ve gathered treasures from all over Calradia. You won¡¯t find better deals anywhere else!¡± At the counter stood a girl, her short hair framing a face marked by an expression of sadness and confusion. She wore an expensive but soiled dress, her fingers delicately picking through the jewelry. Despite the wealth her attire suggested, her eyes betrayed a sense of uncertainty. Among the many items, my gaze fell on a book titled *An Army Marches on its Stomach*. Curious, I picked it up and began leafing through its pages. The girl, who had moments before been focused on the jewelry, turned her attention to me. ¡°So, you¡¯re a reader?¡± she asked, her voice soft yet intrigued. ¡°With a physique like yours, I would¡¯ve expected you to be holding a sword, not a book.¡± I chuckled and replied, ¡°You can¡¯t judge a book by its cover.¡± She laughed lightly, nodding in agreement. ¡°Indeed.¡± Her attention shifted back to the jewelry, and I noticed her fingers hovering indecisively over a variety of trinkets. ¡°What are you looking for?¡± I asked, motioning to the collection before us. ¡°If I may suggest, that emerald bracelet would suit you well. It would bring out your natural beauty.¡± She sighed, glancing down at the bracelet I had pointed out. Without hesitation, or even bothering to haggle, she purchased it¡ªpaying a hefty sum of 400 gold coins. The amount startled me; it was not a small fortune by my standards. Afterward, she turned her gaze to me once more. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked. ¡°And what do you do?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Augustus,¡± I replied. ¡°A mercenary by trade.¡± She offered no name in return, just a subtle nod. Without another word, she walked toward a neighboring stall, disappearing into the crowd. I stood there for a moment, contemplating the brief exchange, before I, too, moved on to continue exploring the city. Lageta was indeed rich in culture, and despite its current troubles, I could see why it had earned its reputation as one of the Empire¡¯s finest cities. As I made my way back to the inn, the streets were starting to empty, the lively market slowly winding down. The weight of the journey ahead still lingered in my mind, but for now, I allowed myself a brief moment of peace, knowing that tomorrow would bring new challenges. Encyclopedia-2- Sora-The Scholar Sora is a figure of quiet resilience, hailing from the noble Argoros clan that rules over the city of Epicrotea¡ªa city renowned for housing the largest library in all of Calradia. Her story is one of struggle, solitude, and eventual success, an inspiring tale that has captured the attention of many, particularly in the noble circles where she now thrives as an expert on fief management. Early Life in the Shadow of the Argoros Clan Sora''s life began with tragedy. Her mother died during childbirth, leaving her under the care of a family that would never truly embrace her. Her father, though a nobleman of great stature, was distant, and her stepmother saw Sora as an afterthought, favoring her children. Growing up in the Argoros household was not easy for Sora, who from an early age suffered from chronic illness. Her weak health kept her confined to her room for much of her childhood, depriving her of the rigorous education and socialization her family¡¯s status would have normally afforded her. With no real parental affection to count on, Sora¡¯s closest relationship was with her maid, who cared for her as though she were her daughter. This maid was a constant source of love and warmth, filling the emotional void left by Sora''s family. Yet, the maid¡¯s compassion could only soften the harsh reality so much. Sora¡¯s stepmother, who ruled the household with cold authority, saw her as a burden rather than a daughter. This lack of affection extended to Sora¡¯s siblings. Her brother, Maurentious, was a devoted warrior in training, following in his father''s footsteps and dedicating his time to martial pursuits. He barely noticed her, too absorbed in his duties and ambitions. Sora¡¯s step-sisters, on the other hand, were far less indifferent. They saw her as weak, unworthy, and, above all, unattractive. They often bullied her, mocking her for her frailty and for not possessing the beauty or grace expected of a noblewoman. Their cruel words left lasting scars on Sora, who began to internalize their criticisms. Her confidence shattered before it had the chance to take root. She grew up clumsy, unsure of herself and convinced that she could never meet the standards imposed by her family and society. Escape and Self-Discovery When Sora came of age, the Argoros household began to view her as a potential political tool, a piece to be played on the marriage board for alliances and power. The idea of being used as a pawn in an arranged marriage, or worse, terrified her. She was unwilling to sacrifice her autonomy for the sake of her family¡¯s ambitions, so she made the bold decision to leave. Shattering any remaining connection with her family, Sora struck out on her own. She sought freedom, not just from the physical confines of her home but from the emotional shackles that had bound her since childhood. Her heart yearned for the world beyond the stone walls of Epicrotea, a world she had only ever read about. With little more than her wits and a longing for independence, Sora began to travel across Calradia. During her travels, she visited numerous cities, marveling at the diversity of culture, politics, and landscapes that made up the Calradian Empire. She spent much of her time in libraries, absorbing knowledge wherever she could find it, driven by a deep curiosity that had been stifled for so long. Her love for reading had always been her refuge, and now it became her path to self-reliance.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Rise to Fame Sora¡¯s keen mind and growing expertise in various subjects, especially those related to governance, soon gained attention. Her first book, written during her travels, focused on effective fief management¡ªa subject she had studied relentlessly while exploring the holdings of nobles across the land. This work, Principles of Fiefdoms: The Scholar''s Perspective, detailed strategies for maximizing agricultural output, managing vassals, and ensuring economic stability in a region. What set Sora apart from other scholars was her ability to make complex topics accessible, practical, and immediately useful. Nobles from all over Calradia began to seek her counsel. Sora¡¯s reputation as an astute scholar spread, and she soon found herself teaching the very lords and ladies who might have once looked down on her. She rose to prominence in elite circles, not through family connections or marriage, but through the strength of her intellect and the depth of her knowledge. She began to accumulate wealth, not just from her books but from private consultations with noble families seeking her advice on how to govern their fiefs more efficiently. The Turning Point Despite her successes, Sora''s old insecurities still haunted her. The scars left by her childhood lingered, and there were moments when she doubted whether she truly belonged in the world of nobles she now frequented¡ªone such moment occurred while browsing a jewelry stall in a busy marketplace. She found herself staring at a beautiful emerald bracelet, admiring its craftsmanship but feeling unworthy of such finery. Her stepmother''s words echoed in her mind¡ªwords that had once told her she was plain, unlovable, and clumsy. Even with her newfound success, Sora could not shake the belief that jewelry, or anything beautiful for that matter, was not meant for someone like her. It was during this moment of doubt that Augustus, a mercenary passing through the same market, spoke to her. He had noticed her hesitation and approached her, suggesting with a genuine smile that the emerald bracelet would suit her well, highlighting her natural beauty. Sora, taken aback by the compliment, felt a flicker of something she had not experienced in years¡ªself-appreciation. For so long, she had been told she was unworthy of admiration, yet Augustus'' simple words caused her to see herself in a new light. His compliment, delivered without any hint of ulterior motive, was like a spark that ignited a long-dormant sense of self-worth. Without bargaining or second-guessing, Sora purchased the bracelet. The 400 gold coins it cost her seemed trivial compared to her newfound confidence. Legacy and Impact Though Sora remains somewhat reclusive, preferring the solitude of her books and studies, she continues to influence the noble houses of Calradia. Her books have become essential reading for any aspiring lord or lady wishing to manage their estates effectively. She has built a reputation as one of the most insightful and respected scholars of her time. Despite her achievements, she remains humble, perhaps due to the hardships she faced in her youth. Her relationship with her family remains distant. She has no desire to return to the life she left behind, knowing full well that she would have been little more than a pawn in their political games. Now, Sora lives on her terms, traveling when she pleases and continuing to write and teach. Her story serves as a reminder that even those who begin their lives in the shadows of self-doubt and neglect can rise to prominence through determination, intellect, and, most importantly, self-belief. In the end, it was not the validation of her family that Sora needed to thrive, but her realization of her worth. The girl who once doubted her every step had transformed into a woman whose every word carried weight in the halls of power. And while she may never forget the pain of her past, she no longer allows it to define her future. 20. Big Game ? The next morning, we began preparing for our departure from Lageta. It was a bittersweet moment; while I had enjoyed the city¡¯s rich culture and architecture, our mission awaited us. Our next stop was finally the place where we were tasked with escorting Tadeos. Until now, we hadn¡¯t seen much of him. Despite our unit¡¯s role, his protection was primarily the responsibility of the equites, the elite cavalry force personally trusted by Nadea for this assignment. Mannes was technically in charge of our unit, but Tadeos was kept close to the equites, as per Nadea¡¯s direct orders. If anything went wrong along the journey, it was clear that the equites would prioritize saving Tadeos, not us. Though we traveled together, Tadeos remained isolated within their ranks, shielded from us by a wall of armor and caution. He rode with them during the day and, when we reached towns or villages, he was swiftly handed over to the garrison for further protection. The equites even handled his food and lodging, keeping him under constant surveillance. The man might as well have been a prisoner rather than someone we were supposed to escort. It was hard not to feel uneasy about the whole arrangement. As far as I could tell, no one from our group had spoken a single word to Tadeos since we¡¯d begun this journey. It was like traveling alongside a ghost¡ªsomeone who existed in our periphery but who remained entirely inaccessible. His food was different, and his accommodation was separate. And though we were technically on the same side, it felt as if an invisible line had been drawn between us and him, enforced by the equites with an unspoken but palpable tension. That sense of unease lingered in my mind throughout the journey. One night, as we sat around a campfire, I couldn¡¯t hold back any longer. I shared my theory with Mannes and Cassius, the two men whose judgment I trusted most. ¡°What if Nadea is planning to kill Tadeos on this journey?¡± I asked, keeping my voice low so as not to stir any suspicions. ¡°What if she¡¯s planning to blame us? We¡¯re the perfect scapegoats. He¡¯s been kept far away from us, and there has been barely any contact. If something happens to him, who¡¯s going to believe that we didn¡¯t have a hand in it?¡± Mannes stared into the fire, deep in thought, while Cassius scratched his chin. After a long pause, Cassius shook his head slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t think Nadea has any reason to do that. Tadeos isn¡¯t a threat to her¡ªnot politically, at least. He¡¯s not a competitor for power or influence. It wouldn¡¯t make sense for her to assassinate him.¡± Mannes nodded in agreement, but I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. ¡°Still,¡± Mannes said after a moment, ¡°we¡¯d be fools not to stay wary. You¡¯re right about one thing: we need to be cautious, even of our troops. We¡¯re not the priority here. If something were to go wrong, I doubt the equites would be too concerned with saving our necks.¡± We agreed to keep our guard up and watch our backs. Even though Cassius and Mannes didn¡¯t fully buy into my theory, we had enough suspicion to warrant vigilance. After all, in times of war and shifting alliances, trust was a rare commodity. The road from Lageta to Charas was long and winding. The terrain shifted gradually, the rugged mountains and thick forests of the western Empire giving way to more open landscapes as we approached Valandian territory. That first night on the road, we set up camp in a dense wooded area, hoping the cover of trees would offer us some protection. It wasn¡¯t just bandits we were worried about; Battanian raiding parties were known to operate in these parts, and the last thing we wanted was to be caught off-guard in the dark. We positioned our camp strategically, choosing a spot that gave us clear sight lines in case of an ambush. The men were tense, and rightly so. We knew that traveling through these contested regions was always a gamble, and the thick silence of the woods did little to calm our nerves. Each of us took turns keeping watch throughout the night, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Every rustle of leaves or crack of a branch set my heart racing, but by some stroke of luck, the night passed without incident. No bandits, no raiders. Just the eerie stillness of the forest.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The next morning, we continued our march toward Charas, with the Valandian border growing closer by the hour. As we crossed the frontier, the change in the landscape was immediately apparent. The architecture here was different¡ªdistinctly Valandian, with its towering stone buildings and churches. The influence of the West was clear, and it reminded me of the architecture I had seen in certain parts of the Empire¡¯s western regions. Unlike the sleek, functional structures of the Empire, the Valandian buildings had a more austere and heavy feel to them. We passed through several villages on our way, and each one seemed to embody the distinctive Valandian style, which reminded me of the traditional British countryside. The homes were built of heavy stone, with sloping thatched roofs and sturdy wooden beams, much like the cottages of the British Isles. The air was thick with history, and the architecture gave the impression that these villages had weathered centuries of change and would continue to stand for centuries more. There was a certain charm to it, a blend of timelessness and strength as if the stones themselves had stories to tell. It felt both foreign and familiar, as though I were walking through a forgotten chapter of history from some distant, parallel realm. By mid-afternoon, the outline of Charas appeared on the horizon. The city sat atop a gently rolling hill, its imposing walls and tall, spired towers reaching skyward like the Gothic cathedrals I¡¯d seen in paintings of old England. As we drew closer, the bustling activity around the city¡¯s gates became evident¡ªmerchants, soldiers, and travelers, all moving about with purpose. Charas was one of the key cities in Valandia, a place where commerce and military prowess intersected, and it wore its importance like an old British town known for its naval legacy. The cobblestone streets and meticulously maintained buildings hinted at a culture steeped in both tradition and discipline. Upon entering the city, I was immediately struck by how different it felt from the Empire. The Valandians had their customs, their way of dressing, and their sense of order. Much like the British with their emphasis on regalia and ceremony, the Valandian soldiers stood at attention in their well-tailored uniforms, polished armor reflecting the midday sun. The city''s architecture also spoke volumes¡ªtall, narrow houses with ornate wooden carvings and leaded windows lining the streets, all reminiscent of Tudor or Elizabethan England. The streets themselves were wider and cleaner than in the cities of the Empire, with grand public squares at regular intervals where townsfolk gathered for market days or public events. It felt as if we had crossed more than just a physical border; we had entered a new cultural realm. Valandia¡¯s spirit was both reserved and proud, like the British. Their cities were built with a sense of permanence and order as if each stone had been laid with the future in mind. Even their mannerisms reflected this¡ªa stiff upper lip, so to speak, with a hint of propriety that reminded me of tales I''d heard of the old British aristocracy. The people here moved with purpose but carried an air of calm control as if no challenge could disrupt their daily rhythm. The marketplace was a sight to behold¡ªbustling with vendors selling everything from textiles and jewelry to exotic foods from distant lands. The smells of roasted meats filled the air, blending with the more pungent scents of leather and spices. The Valandian merchants, were shrewd and articulate, negotiating prices with a politeness that belied their sharp business acumen. There was a certain refinement to their dealings, an unspoken code of conduct that seemed to elevate even the simplest transactions. Charas had a sense of dignity to it, not just from its architecture but from its people. Much like the cities that had thrived on trade and defense, Charas seemed to have built itself up through centuries of careful planning and strategic thinking. The city¡¯s layout was orderly, with neatly arranged streets and clear divisions between its commercial, residential, and military sectors. It was the kind of place where traditions ran deep, where the weight of history was always present but never burdensome. 21. Banner At the gates of Charas, we were stopped by several guards, their expressions cautious as they scrutinized us. Mannes stepped forward immediately, unfurling the documents we had been given, the official seal of our mission clearly visible. Despite his calm demeanor, I could tell Mannes was keeping his temper in check¡ªbeing held at the city gates when we had official business was always an irritant, but patience was key. After a tense moment, the guards glanced over the documents, then turned to Tadeos, who was standing silently beside us, his face etched with frustration at the delay. One of the guards squinted at Tadeos, clearly recognizing him. That seemed to ease the tension somewhat, but the guard captain wasn¡¯t fully convinced. ¡°Alright,¡± he said gruffly, ¡°you can enter under supervision. But you¡¯ll leave your weapons outside the city walls.¡± I exchanged a quick look with Mannes and Cassius. Leaving our weapons behind didn¡¯t sit well with any of us, but we had no choice. Valandians were notoriously strict about outsiders bringing arms into their cities, and there was no point arguing. With some reluctance, we removed our swords, knives, and any other weapons we carried, placing them in a secure box by the gate. I felt a strange vulnerability without the familiar weight of my sword at my side, but we had a job to do. Inside the city, Charas was a sight to behold. The architecture reminded me of European cities I¡¯d studied and seen in the past¡ªsturdy, stone buildings with pointed arches, grand facades, and cobbled streets that twisted and wound like a maze. The buildings were decorated with ornate carvings, many of them depicting ancient battles or scenes of the Valandian kingdom¡¯s victories. I could feel the history here, the weight of centuries of tradition and warfare etched into every stone. As we made our way through the streets, we passed bustling markets filled with merchants hawking their wares¡ªfabrics, spices, and finely crafted weapons I wasn¡¯t allowed to touch, for now. The people here, unlike the architecture, were rougher, their clothes simpler and their expressions wary. Valandians were known for their pride and their warlike nature, and it showed in every person we passed. There was a toughness to them, a sharpness in the way they carried themselves. I could feel the eyes of the townspeople on us, curious but distrustful of the newcomers in their midst. After a short walk, we arrived at the governor¡¯s palace, an imposing structure that stood at the heart of Charas. The guards at the entrance were expecting us and led us inside without delay. Mannes, Cassius, and I were the only ones allowed in, while the rest of our group stayed behind. As we entered, I took in the grand halls, lined with tapestries and banners of the Valandian kingdom. The stone walls were cool to the touch, and the air inside was thick with the scent of burning wood from the large hearth at the far end of the chamber. We were asked to wait in a receiving room, and after a brief time, Baron Ingalther of House Dey Cortain appeared. His entrance was anything but warm. The man looked to be in his mid-40s, his reddish hair streaked with gray, and a beard that gave him a rugged, almost battle-worn appearance. He had the air of someone constantly dissatisfied with the world around him. The sharpness in his gaze as he looked us over suggested he wasn¡¯t pleased with our presence, and I could already sense that this wasn¡¯t going to be an easy meeting. "Welcome," Ingalther greeted us, his voice cold and flat. There was no real warmth in his words. As he turned to his aide, he let out a small sigh, as if dealing with us was a necessary burden. "See what our kingdom has come to," he said, loud enough for us to hear. "Making deals with those who¡¯ve killed my men. Derhert is a coward, and he¡¯s no good for our Valandian kingdom." The boldness of his words took me by surprise. Derhert was the king of Valandia, and to speak ill of him so openly showed just how bold and reckless Ingalther truly was. The fact that he didn¡¯t seem to care about any potential consequences told me that he was a man with little regard for authority¡ªunless it was his own.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Mannes kept his expression neutral, but I could sense the tension in his posture. We weren¡¯t here to get involved in Valandian politics, and the last thing we needed was to get dragged into a dispute between nobles. Ingalther turned to Mannes with a smirk that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hand over my treasure to my own rivals,¡± he said, his tone dripping with disdain. ¡°But unfortunately, that coward Derhert wants to have peace with you, and I don¡¯t trust either your king or mine.¡± His eyes flickered to Tadeos, who stood silently by the door. ¡°As insurance,¡± Ingalther continued, ¡°I needed Tadeos here, a blood relative of Garios. With him under my care, Garios will think twice before declaring war on us. You¡¯ve done well to bring him to me.¡± Mannes shifted uneasily, clearly unhappy with the turn of events. Ingalther¡¯s voice became more menacing as he leaned in slightly. ¡°Now, leave him here. And remember, if Garios ever makes a move against Valandia, I¡¯ll kill every last one of his family.¡± There was a brief silence as the weight of Ingalther¡¯s words hung in the air. Then, he waved his hand dismissively. ¡°As for the treasure that my family has kept for decades, take care of it and deliver it to Garios. Make sure it reaches him intact.¡± At that moment, one of Ingalther¡¯s men entered the chamber, carrying a bundle wrapped in a worn, velvet cloth. But as they brought it closer, I suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. My vision began to blur, and the edges of the room seemed to tilt and warp. My head felt heavy, like it was full of lead, and I struggled to stay upright. Then, I heard it. A voice. A robotic, feminine voice¡ªone I hadn¡¯t heard in days¡ªechoing inside my mind. Tutorial not completed... Can''t interact with banner... I clutched my head as the voice repeated itself, over and over, growing louder with each passing moment. Tutorial not completed... Can''t interact with banner... My knees buckled, and the last thing I remembered was Mannes shouting my name before everything went black. When I finally regained consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the ceiling above me. A beautiful chandelier hung from it, casting soft light around the room. The bed beneath me was far more comfortable than any I¡¯d slept in recently, and the sheets felt smooth against my skin. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the disorientation. Mannes and Silvana were both standing near the bed, relief evident on their faces as they realized I was awake. Silvana stepped closer, her brow furrowed with concern. ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked, her voice soft but urgent. I sat up slowly, rubbing my temples as the pounding in my head began to fade. ¡°Yeah¡­ I think so,¡± I replied, though my voice was hoarse, and my body still felt weak. Mannes gave a nod, satisfied that I wasn¡¯t in immediate danger. ¡°You collapsed during the discussion with Ingalther,¡± he said. ¡°He had his men carry you here. You¡¯ve been unconscious for a few hours.¡± I glanced around the room, my mind still struggling to process everything that had happened. ¡°What about the mission? What did Ingalther say after I¡­?¡± Mannes waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Ingalther wasn¡¯t concerned about your collapse. He gave us a piece of cloth¡ªpart of the treasure, I assume¡ªand he¡¯s trusting us to deliver it to Garios. According to him, Garios will be arriving in Lageta tomorrow and staying there for about a month. We¡¯ll receive our pay there.¡± Silvana nodded in agreement. ¡°Mannes thinks you collapsed because you¡¯ve been working too hard. He¡¯s given you two days to rest, and I¡¯ll be taking care of your duties in the meantime.¡± I frowned, still trying to piece everything together. The robotic voice I¡¯d heard in my head, the dizziness, the collapse¡ªit wasn¡¯t just from overwork. But for now, I needed rest. I nodded at Mannes, agreeing to his suggestion, knowing I had to figure out what had just happened to me. 22. Flames of Betrayal For the past two days, I had been resting at an inn in Charas. The bed was more comfortable than anything I¡¯d experienced in a while, but it didn¡¯t stop the constant fog that hovered over my mind. The dull ache in my head had come and gone, but it never really disappeared completely. Mannes and Silvana were checking on me constantly, keeping a close watch. Mannes, in particular, seemed overly concerned, almost too watchful. Silvana, on the other hand, had taken over my duties as quartermaster, and though some of the recruits were complaining about minor things, she had been handling it quite well. Cassius, however, was absent. I hadn¡¯t seen him in the past two days, and it struck me as strange. Normally, he wasn¡¯t the type to vanish without a word, and it left a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. But then again, this whole situation with the cloth, with the banner, had made everything feel off. That piece of cloth. Mannes had been acting paranoid ever since it was handed to him by Baron Ingalther. I couldn¡¯t blame him. There was something about it, something that made my skin crawl and my head spin whenever he came too close to it. He had been keeping it hidden, moving it around constantly like he was trying to stay one step ahead of a thief that only he could see. Mannes hadn¡¯t told anyone where he kept it hidden, but I had an idea. I didn¡¯t want to, but I knew. Every time he had that cloth on him¡ªtucked inside his clothing somewhere¡ªmy headache would flare up. The closer he got to me, the worse it would become. My vision would blur, and I would start to feel nauseous like the world was tilting beneath my feet. I didn¡¯t understand why, but I knew it had something to do with that cloth. So, I kept my distance from him as much as possible, making sure there was always some space between us whenever he approached. It didn¡¯t take long for Mannes to notice my avoidance. He started thinking he had done something wrong. One afternoon, after an awkward silence between us, he finally apologized, his voice low and sincere. ¡°If I¡¯ve done anything to offend you, Augustus, just tell me,¡± he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. ¡°I know I can be overbearing sometimes, and if that¡¯s the problem¡ª¡± I cut him off before he could overthink things any further. I couldn¡¯t tell him the truth¡ªnot about the strange connection between that cloth and my headaches¡ªso I came up with a lie that felt close enough to reality. ¡°It¡¯s not you, Mannes. It¡¯s that cloth you¡¯ve been carrying,¡± I said, forcing a chuckle to ease the tension. ¡°Whenever you get too close to it, I get nauseous. Must be the smell of it or something.¡± He laughed at that, though I could tell he was still uneasy. ¡°The smell, huh? I hadn¡¯t thought of that. Maybe it¡¯s been kept in some old storeroom too long. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll just keep our distance until we deliver it to Garios.¡± I nodded, grateful that he bought the excuse. Mannes didn¡¯t press further, though I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was a sharp man, but sometimes, he didn¡¯t push for answers when he should¡¯ve. He trusted me, and that trust was a burden I carried now. The next morning, we departed from Charas and headed back toward Lageta. The weather was pleasant, the skies clear, and there was a light breeze that made the journey almost enjoyable. The equites had taken up their scouting positions, riding ahead and behind to ensure we weren¡¯t caught off guard by any raiders. Thankfully, we didn¡¯t encounter any Battanian raiding parties, which was always a relief. We had enough on our plate without worrying about ambushes.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The journey took us back to the same spot we had camped at during our previous trip. It was a safe location¡ªan elevated clearing that gave us a good vantage point. From here, we could see anyone approaching long before they reached us. It was perfect for keeping an eye out for both Bandits and Battanians. We set up camp, and as the sun began to set, we made plans for the night. Our priority was clear: protecting Mannes¡¯ camp. The cloth¡ªthe banner¡ªwas our mission¡¯s objective, and keeping it safe was crucial. Cassius and I decided to take turns guarding it. We flipped a coin to see who would take the first shift, and Cassius ended up with the first watch. I was to relieve him later, once he started getting drowsy. It seemed like a simple enough arrangement, so I made my way to the common camp where I shared a tent with some of the recruits. The night was quiet, and soon enough, exhaustion pulled me into a deep sleep. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I¡¯d been out when my slumber was suddenly shattered by the sound of loud shouting. My heart raced as I bolted upright, my mind still groggy from sleep. But the moment I stepped outside the tent, my stomach sank. Mannes¡¯ camp was engulfed in flames. I froze momentarily, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding before me. The orange glow of the fire cast an eerie light over the camp, and I could hear the panicked voices of the recruits as they scrambled to put out the blaze. Equites were rushing back and forth, some shouting commands, others dragging supplies out of the reach of the flames. My eyes darted around frantically, searching for Mannes. That¡¯s when I saw him¡ªbeing carried out of the camp by two equites. His body was limp, his throat... slit. Blood soaked the front of his tunic, and even from a distance, I could see the life draining from his face. I tried to move, to run toward him, but something held me back. My body felt heavy as if I were wading through thick mud. And then, it happened again. That damned system. The same voice I hadn¡¯t heard in days echoed in my head, louder than before. *Tutorial not completed¡­ Can¡¯t interact with banner¡­* The dizziness hit me like a wave, my vision blurring at the edges as the robotic voice continued to repeat itself over and over. I could see Mannes, his body cradled in the arms of the equites, but I couldn¡¯t move. I couldn¡¯t reach him. *Tutorial not completed¡­ Can¡¯t interact with banner¡­* It was as if something was pulling me back, preventing me from getting closer to my friend. My frustration and helplessness grew with each step that I tried to take but failed. I wanted to be there for Mannes, to say something, anything before it was too late, but I was powerless. The system was controlling me again, denying me the chance to even say goodbye. I heard Silvana¡¯s sobs from somewhere nearby. She was on her knees next to Mannes¡¯ body, tears streaming down her face as she held his hand, whispering something that I couldn¡¯t hear. The sight of her crying, the sight of Mannes lying there motionless, hit me like a punch to the gut. I should have been there. I should have been able to stop this. And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the dizziness disappeared. The robotic voice fell silent, the notifications vanishing from my mind. I could move again. But it was too late. Mannes was dead. I stumbled forward, my legs weak beneath me, but there was nothing left to do. The fire in the camp still burned, and the chaos around me continued, but all I could see was the body of the man who had been my closest friend in this world, lying still in the dirt. I dropped to my knees next to Silvana, the weight of the loss hitting me all at once. My head hung low, and I tried to make sense of it all¡ªof why the system had prevented me from helping, of why Mannes had to die. But there were no answers¡ªonly grief. 23. To be a Hero I had always dreamed of being someone who would protect the weak from tyranny. I thought joining the army would make me that man, the hero who would shield innocent citizens from raids, a figure praised by all. I imagined the glory, the cheers of gratitude, the admiration. But no one told me the truth¡ªthat the same army I joined to protect people could just as easily become the force that destroys them. The one who was supposed to stand as a savior could also be the one to plunder and ravage. That dream of mine didn¡¯t last long. I joined the imperial army thinking I could hold on to my ideals, but those ideals were the first things to crumble. In the early days, I was na?ve and full of hope. But soon, reality set in. Idle time was spent gambling, drinking, and frequenting brothels. It started small at first¡ªa little gambling to pass the time, a quick visit to the nearest whorehouse after a battle to celebrate our "victory." But the deeper I got into that life, the further I strayed from the person I thought I was. Before long, I was in debt. Deep debt. And not just to anyone¡ªmy debt was owed to Rita the Butcher, a name whispered in the dark corners of empire territory. She was part of the Hidden Hand, a secret society that operated beneath the surface of the empire, pulling strings that most people didn¡¯t even know existed. They had influence everywhere, especially in the Western Empire, and it didn¡¯t take long for me to realize that I was caught in their web. I don¡¯t even know when it happened exactly, but at some point, I abandoned the ideals I had once held dear. I became a pawn to the Hidden Hand, informing them about anything I knew about the Western Empire¡¯s military movements, about Tadeos and his plans. All because of a debt I could never repay. Every bit of information I passed along chipped away at whatever was left of my conscience, but I didn¡¯t have a choice. If I didn¡¯t obey, they¡¯d kill me. That was the reality of dealing with the Hidden Hand¡ªyou either served them, or you died. When Tadeos¡¯ army disbanded, I thought I¡¯d be free, or maybe they¡¯d come to collect the debt I owed with my life. I begged for mercy and pleaded for them to spare me. To my surprise, they did, but mercy in the Hidden Hand always came with a price. Instead of killing me, they assigned me a new mission. This time, my task was far more personal. I was ordered to follow someone I had once looked up to, someone I had idolized during my time in Tadeos'' army¡ªMannes. He was my superior, a man I had aspired to be like. But now, my mission was to betray him. I was to retrieve a banner before it reached Garios¡¯ hands, a banner that held more significance than I could understand. Mannes didn¡¯t know it, but from the moment we reunited, I had been keeping a close eye on him. The journey was long and filled with obstacles, but finally, we arrived in Charas. That¡¯s when Mannes was handed the banner. My mission was clear: get the banner, no matter the cost. But Mannes was smart. He never told anyone where he hid it, and he was always careful. Too careful. I spent the next few days searching for it. Whenever Mannes was away from his quarters, I slipped into his room and tore through his belongings, looking for any sign of the banner. But no matter how hard I searched, I couldn¡¯t find it. It was as if he had hidden it in plain sight, just out of my reach. To make matters worse, Nadea had assigned equites to accompany us. These elite cavalrymen were more than capable of keeping us in check, and I knew that trying to trap the group or ambush them with the help of the Hidden Hand was out of the question. The equites were too sharp, too disciplined. I was on my own. I had to bide my time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. That chance came when we camped in the forest. Mannes, exhausted from the journey, was more relaxed than usual. I convinced one of his men, a fellow guard, to agree to take shifts watching over Mannes¡¯ tent, and we alternated our patrols. It wasn¡¯t hard to convince him¡ªit seemed like an innocent enough request. When most of the recruits and Mannes had fallen asleep, I made my move. The camp was quiet, the flickering light of the campfire casting long shadows on the ground. I approached Mannes¡¯ tent, slipping inside as silently as I could. My heart was pounding in my chest, the weight of the task ahead pressing down on me. I was betraying a man I had once admired, and though I knew it had to be done, a part of me still rebelled against it.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Inside the tent, I searched for the banner. I rummaged through his belongings, my movements quick and desperate, but no matter how thoroughly I searched, it wasn¡¯t there. Frustration began to build inside me. Where could he have hidden it? Suddenly, Mannes stirred. My heart jumped into my throat as his eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, our eyes locked. He knew something was wrong. Before he could fully wake, I acted on instinct, moving to him and pressing a knife against his throat. My voice was shaky, but I forced myself to sound calm. ¡°Don¡¯t scream,¡± I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire outside. ¡°Give me the banner, and this can end peacefully.¡± Mannes, to my surprise, didn¡¯t flinch. There was no fear in his eyes, no panic. He simply looked at me, his expression unreadable. ¡°What happens after that?¡± he asked, his voice steady. ¡°You think you can escape? You won¡¯t outrun the equites. They¡¯ll catch you, and you know it.¡± His words stung. He was right. There was no way I could escape once the equites caught wind of what I had done. Still, I couldn¡¯t back down. I needed that banner, and I needed to believe there was a way out. Mannes reached out slowly, his hand moving toward mine. It was a calming gesture, but I misread it. Fear took over, and before I could stop myself, I slit his throat. Time seemed to stop. The knife moved across his skin as if it had a mind of its own, and then the blood came. Dark, thick, and pouring from the wound in a way that felt unreal. My heart was pounding, the weight of what I had just done crashing down on me. I had killed him. Mannes, the man I had idolized for years, was now dying by my hand. I stumbled back, my mind reeling from the shock of it all. What had I done? How had it come to this? In my daze, I barely noticed Mannes reaching for something. Before I could react, he swung his arm, knocking over a candle stand. The flames caught on the fabric of the tent, and within seconds, the entire structure was ablaze. The fire spread quickly, consuming everything in its path. I panicked, trying to think of a way out. But it was too late. The flames had already attracted the attention of the recruits and equites. Shouts filled the air as people rushed to extinguish the fire, their silhouettes casting long shadows in the glow of the blaze. I knew I had to get out. I had to run. But my legs felt like they were made of lead, my body frozen in place as the realization of what I had done crashed over me. I killed Mannes. My mind was a whirl of chaos. I wanted to escape, to disappear into the forest and never be seen again, but my legs refused to move. The fire continued to grow, and I could hear the sound of boots pounding on the ground as the equites and recruits approached. It was only a matter of time before they found me. Desperation took hold, and I finally forced myself to move. I turned and ran, but I had barely taken a few steps when I was met with resistance. Equites swarmed the camp, and in the chaos of the fire, I found myself surrounded. One grabbed me by the arm, pulling me to the ground. I fought back, thrashing and struggling against them, but it was no use. They were too strong. ¡°Hold him!¡± one of them shouted as more equites piled on top of me. I could feel the weight of their bodies pinning me down, the sharp sting of pain as they twisted my arms behind my back. The guilt, the shame, the overwhelming sense of failure¡ªit crushed me. I had failed everyone. The equites dragged me to my feet, and I didn¡¯t resist. There was no point. I had killed Mannes and set the camp on fire, and now I was going to face the consequences. There was no escape from this. As they led me away from the burning camp, I couldn¡¯t help but replay the events in my mind. I had wanted to be a hero, someone who protected the weak. But instead, I had become a traitor. I had betrayed the man I looked up to, and for what? A banner? A piece of cloth that wasn¡¯t even worth the blood on my hands? Rita the Butcher, the Hidden Hand, the debt I owed¡ªit all seemed so insignificant now. What did any of it matter when I had just killed the only person who had ever believed in me? The flames still roared behind me, but I barely noticed them anymore. All I could think about was the sound of Mannes¡¯ voice, his calm words in those final moments. He had known that my actions would only lead to this. But he had still tried to talk me down. And I had ignored him. Now, I was nothing more than a prisoner, trapped by my own mistakes. The Hidden Hand wouldn¡¯t save me, not now. They¡¯d find someone else to do their dirty work, someone more capable, less burdened by conscience. And I would be left to face the judgment of the equites, of the empire. 24. Tutoral Starts I stood there, devastated, looking down at Mannes¡¯ body lying still on the cold ground. The fire in the camp had been extinguished, but the flames inside me hadn¡¯t. Tears blurred my vision, and I felt an overwhelming sense of loss. Mannes hadn¡¯t just been a commander; he was like a big brother to me. In the few short weeks I had spent with him, he had shown me kindness, strength, and the value of camaraderie. He had been a mentor in more ways than I could have ever imagined, guiding me through situations I was barely prepared for. Now he was gone, and I couldn¡¯t comprehend how I was supposed to move on without him. For someone who had only been a part of my life for a few weeks, Mannes had left a lasting impact. He had a way of understanding people, of leading without imposing. He treated me as an equal, trusted my judgment, and respected my role as quartermaster even when I doubted myself. I could always count on him for guidance, for advice when things got tough. He had a calm presence, always making you feel like everything would be okay, even when the world around us was full of chaos. Losing him was like losing a piece of myself. As I knelt beside his body, Silvana stood quietly beside me, her eyes filled with tears. The two of us had sat there for what felt like hours, mourning the loss of our leader, our friend. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the equites approaching. His face was grim, and his voice held a weight of seriousness that immediately grabbed my attention. ¡°We captured the one who killed Mannes,¡± he said, his tone measured. ¡°It was none other than Cassius.¡± The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Cassius. Mannes¡¯ trusted friend, the man who had been with us throughout this journey. My fists clenched, and my body tensed as anger brewed inside me, every fiber of my being screaming for vengeance. Cassius had been Mannes¡¯ companion for years, and to hear that he was the one responsible for this betrayal¡ªit was unthinkable. My vision blurred, but this time it wasn¡¯t from tears. It was from the raw rage that surged through me. I stood, unsheathing my sword in one swift motion, barely aware of my actions. Every inch of my soul wanted to rip Cassius apart. How could he do this? How could he kill the man who had trusted him so completely? My muscles tightened, ready to strike. If not for the equites stepping in and grabbing me, I would have ended him right there. ¡°Not now,¡± one of the equites said firmly, holding me back. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time to lose your composure. We need him alive to extract as much information as we can. You¡¯re the quartermaster now, Augustus. It¡¯s your responsibility to lead this mercenary unit and finish the mission. You have to think clearly.¡± Their words hit me hard. As much as I wanted to kill Cassius at that moment, I couldn¡¯t. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders. I had never served in the army before¡ªnever held a position of leadership like Mannes. They didn¡¯t trust me as they trusted him, and that made it harder to negotiate with the equites. But they were right. Cassius was a valuable source of information, and as much as I hated it, he needed to be kept alive. I glanced at Cassius, who was bound and being watched by two equites. Disgust boiled in my chest as I looked at the man who had killed Mannes, someone I admired. How could I forgive him? How could I let him live after what he had done? But the burden was mine now. I had to see this through. If I acted recklessly, it could jeopardize everything¡ªour mission, the lives of the men who followed me, and the trust of the equites. I had to play this smart, no matter how much I wanted to give in to my anger. ¡°I¡¯ll hand him over to Garios when we reach Lageta,¡± I said quietly, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. ¡°We¡¯ll get the information we need from him, and then¡­ then we¡¯ll see.¡± Silvana and the recruits stayed close to me throughout the night, offering their support in the only way they knew how. They comforted me and told me that, for them, I was now their leader. But the weight of those words made me feel hollow. Could I take Mannes¡¯ place? Could I lead this mercenary unit the way he had? Me and Silvana sat close to Mannes¡¯ corpse, keeping vigil as the night dragged on. We had decided to cremate his body per his religion once we reached Lageta. It was the least we could do for him¡ªan honorable farewell under the presence of the pontifex, the priest-like figure who would oversee the ceremony. Throughout the night, Silvana and I talked in hushed voices about the betrayal, about how someone as close to Mannes as Cassius could commit such an unforgivable act. Neither of us had an answer. We fell silent again, watching over Mannes¡¯ still form, our thoughts heavy.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Then, out of nowhere, it happened. That same robotic voice I had heard in my head before¡ªthis time, louder, clearer. *Congratulations on being the first player to reach the tutorial stage ¨C (1/7).* I froze, staring ahead as the voice continued, and then, visuals started appearing before my eyes. Words, icons, and symbols floated in the air, something I had never experienced before. It was as if the system had unlocked a new layer of itself. *Conditions met: Lead a party of 20 or more men. Have at least 1 companion. Have at least 1000 denars.* *Character Menu . Quests . Party Screen . Ability to wield Banners .* *To unlock more abilities, complete the Tutorial stage.* A surge of disbelief hit me. I was the first player to unlock this. Then, I heard something about an achievement, rewards ¡­ but there was an error. *ERROR: Inventory still in the locked state.* I watched as more details flashed across my vision. *Update completed¡­ Calculated Passive XP* My stats began appearing in front of me: Augustus
  • One-Handed: Lvl 3
  • Two-Handed: Lvl 0
  • Polearm: Lvl 0
  • Bow: Lvl 0
  • Crossbow: Lvl 0
  • Throwing: Lvl 0
  • Riding: Lvl 0
  • Athletics: Lvl 4
  • Crafting: Lvl 2
  • Scouting: Lvl 0
  • Tactics: Lvl 3
  • Roguery: Lvl 3
  • Charm: Lvl 3
  • Leadership: Lvl 2
  • Trade: Lvl 4
  • Steward: Lvl 4
  • Medicine: Lvl 0
  • Engineering: Lvl 0
Denars: 5445 Party Upkeep Cost (Daily): 120 Food Supply: <7 Days> Companions: Silvana (Archer) Renown: 21.5/50 (Stage 0) Influence: None Inventory: Armour- Chain mail + Bronze helmet Weapon - Eagle Sword The information was overwhelming. My abilities, my party¡¯s stats, the denars we had, our food supplies¡ªit was all laid out in front of me. I could open and close the character menu at will, just by thinking about it. The interface responded instantly, and I watched as the numbers, the stats, all hovered before me like some strange vision. For a brief moment, the weight of Mannes¡¯ death, the betrayal of Cassius, all of it faded into the background. The game mechanics I had once thought were just part of the simulation had become deeply intertwined with my reality. But as soon as the notifications stopped, the weight of everything came crashing back down on me. Mannes was dead. Cassius had betrayed him. And now I was left to lead this mercenary unit with an impossible task ahead. I glanced over at Silvana, who had been silent during the whole exchange. Her face was tired, worn by grief, but she was still there¡ªloyal, determined, and ready to follow me, even after everything that had happened. I stared at the floating numbers and the prompts in front of me. This was the world I was living in now, a place where strategy, survival, and leadership meant everything. And if I was going to keep this mercenary group together¡ªif I was going to see this mission through¡ªI needed to accept the reality in front of me. I needed to be stronger, smarter, and more calculated than I had ever been. I closed the character menu with a thought, the words vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. My hands clenched into fists. Mannes had always believed in me. He trusted me, even when I didn¡¯t trust myself. Now, I had to live up to that trust. Authors Note Hi Everyone, I hope you all enjoyed the mass release¡ª8 chapters in one day! There¡¯s a reason for that. As many of you know, the first book is titled Tutorial, and the last chapter released (chapter 24) marks a milestone for that book. There are about 15 more chapters I¡¯ve written, but they might hurt some religious sentiments, so I¡¯ll need some time to proofread and make adjustments before releasing new content. I¡¯ll also be changing a few character names. Because of this, I¡¯ve decided to take a two-week break from releasing new chapters. My plans for the next two weeks: - Improve the already released chapters based on your feedback. - Proofread and edit the remaining chapters of Tutorial. - Finalize ideas and begin writing the second book, Not Alone. Now, a quick note about the world-building. The world of Bannerlord shares similarities with cultures from our real world, and like in real history, Calradia has wars tied to religion and politics. I want to make it clear that I have no intention of disrespecting any religion or culture. The upcoming chapters will involve the protagonist becoming a mercenary for the Aserai, leading to conflicts driven by cultural and religious differences. Given the sensitivity of such topics, especially with current global events, I¡¯m considering editing or removing parts of that section.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Please remember, while reading, to view the story for what it is¡ªa fictional journey¡ªand not draw any real-world parallels. I¡¯ll do my best to filter sensitive content, but if you have any concerns, feel free to reach out to me. Review and Ratings Also if possible could you please rate or review this novel that will be really helpful as for some reason all my previous ratings were deleted :( . This is essential for me to continue working on this Novel. Discord Also, I¡¯m setting up a Discord server to discuss the story and future chapters. https://discord.gg/WwdcPfubJ5 This is just a basic discord server with no bots or anything just basic moderation. Looking forward to seeing participation from your side. Changes Identified so far:
  1. Changing the name for the mercenary party
  2. Giving details about how he acquired a body in a new world
  3. Add sense of smell in the older chapters
  4. Edit conversation between Augustus and Silvana regarding the governor of Jalmyrys.
Thank you for your support, and I¡¯ll see you all after the break! ?? 25. A Gift The night passed without any further events, but the weight of Mannes'' death still lingered in the air. I spent most of it in silence, my mind racing. Once the initial shock subsided, I found myself thinking again, but not without a new understanding: this was not a game. There are no second chances, no respawns, and no safety net. Death was very real here, and it had claimed Mannes right in front of me. That realization hit me hard. If I wanted to survive, I had to be more careful with every decision I made from now on. I couldn¡¯t afford to be betrayed like Mannes. And then there was the system. I still didn¡¯t fully understand it, but it was clear that if I could harness its power, it would be an important asset. I had to learn to control and use it to my advantage. That might be the difference between life and death in this world. With that in mind, I opened the system menus again, starting with the quest screen. I had only checked the character menu before, but other tabs might hold useful information. Active quest: - Main quest line: Tutorial - Progress: Gather the materials - Additional quests: A Gift - Progress: Bring the banner to Garios The second quest was clear enough. I had the banner, and my task was to deliver it to Garios. But the first quest, Gather the Materials, left me puzzled. What materials? And for what purpose? There were no further details or steps to guide me in gathering them. It was frustrating like being given a puzzle without the pieces. I set that thought aside and moved on to the party screen. When it opened, I realized just how powerful this tool was. The amount of information it displayed was staggering¡ªit detailed every soldier in our group, breaking them down into categories I hadn¡¯t considered before. For instance, Leon, one of the recruits, had the following details: Leon - Potential: Archer/Cavalry/Blacksmith - Rank: Regular soldier - Companion status: Cannot be converted to companion - Morale: Average - Gear: Poor If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. - Daily wage: 5 denars Every recruit had similar stats, though their potential varied. Some had potential as infantry, others as cavalry or even craftsmen. I could see their morale levels, which was useful, but most importantly, I could track their wages and equipment. This was a cheat, no doubt. In a normal situation, it would take a lot of time to get this much information about every soldier, but with this system, I could assess the entire group at a glance. As dawn began to break, I realized I had spent the entire night exploring these menus. The sun was rising, and it was time to move. I closed the system and stepped outside. Silvana was already up, and when I saw her, I could tell she had taken charge of the group in my absence. She had a natural leadership quality about her, and in these past few days, she had proven herself capable of handling responsibilities without needing my input. ¡°Silvana,¡± I said, approaching her. ¡°Gather everyone. We need to depart soon.¡± She nodded, already ahead of me. ¡°I¡¯ve informed the recruits and the equites. We¡¯re ready to move when you give the order.¡± I appreciated her initiative, especially after everything that had happened with Mannes. She seemed to understand that I was still grappling with his death, and she had stepped up to fill the gap. The equites, too, had continued their duties without question, which was a relief. I had feared that without Mannes, they might refuse to follow our orders, but they carried on as they had before¡ªscouting our path, watching our flanks, keeping us safe. As we made our way closer to the city of Lageta, one of the equites rode back to inform us of something significant. ¡°There¡¯s a large army camped outside the city,¡± he said, his face unreadable. ¡°It¡¯s Garios¡¯ army. They¡¯ve been stationed here for some time.¡± Garios¡¯ army. The moment I heard those words, I felt a chill run down my spine. Garios was one of the contenders for the throne of Calradia, and his army was legendary. It was said that ever since he took command, his forces had not been defeated in battle. The equite mentioned that the army numbered nearly a thousand men, all elites¡ªthe best of the best. We continued onward, and soon, I saw it for myself. An army of that size wasn¡¯t something you could easily ignore. Tents stretched out before the city walls, soldiers moving about in organized formations. Even from a distance, I could feel the power of that force. Every step closer only made me more aware of how small we were compared to them. This was the true power of Garios¡ªthe strength of one of the most dangerous men in Calradia. My chest tightened with a mixture of awe and fear. I had heard stories about Garios, about how he had risen from the ranks of a simple soldier to become the commander-in-chief of the Western Empire. But seeing the full might of his army in person was different. It made the stories seem all the more real. I glanced at Silvana, who seemed equally struck by the sight. She had told me about Lageta¡¯s rich culture and the Dionicos clan, but now that we were here, all of that felt overshadowed by the looming presence of Garios¡¯ army. We were walking into the heart of power, into the middle of a conflict. The weight of the banner I carried felt heavier than ever. This banner wasn¡¯t just a piece of cloth; it was a symbol of something far greater¡ªa tool in a game of thrones, a key to power. And now, I had it. Whatever came next, I knew this banner would play a central role in the battles and politics of the Western Empire. And I had to be prepared for that. For now, though, our immediate task was to meet Garios and deliver the banner as instructed. I only hoped that, unlike Mannes, I could navigate this political web without losing myself¡ªor the lives of those who followed me. 26. Letter As we approached the gates of Lageta, moving through the camps, the sight of Garios'' massive army looming in the distance sent a shiver down my spine. Hundreds of tents dotted the landscape, a sea of soldiers practicing drills and sharpening weapons. The power and size of Garios'' forces were undeniable, and for the first time in days, I felt the weight of the banner I carried. It wasn¡¯t just a piece of cloth¡ªit was a symbol, a tool of war, and a potential source of power. When we reached the city gates, we were stopped by guards. After some discussions and presenting our documents, I was informed that only the commander of the equites, Cassius, and I would be allowed to enter the city, along with Mannes'' body. The rest of my men, including Silvana, were required to set up camp outside the city walls. I had expected this, but it still felt strange to be separated from my group. Before heading inside, I turned to Silvana and gave her the responsibility of organizing the recruits, making sure they were paid, and setting up camp. She nodded, showing no sign of hesitation. She had stepped up so much in the last few days, especially after Mannes¡¯ death, that I trusted her completely with handling things in my absence. As I entered the city, a feeling of unease settled in. The streets were eerily quiet as if a curfew had been imposed. Not a single person walked the streets, and most shops had their doors shut. The only signs of life came from the garrison troops patrolling the area, their heavy boots echoing on the cobblestones. There was a tension in the air, something unspoken but palpable, and it made me uneasy. We were led to the Governor¡¯s office, where Garios himself awaited us. I had heard stories about him¡ªhow he had risen through the ranks of the Imperial army, his unmatched prowess in battle, and his charisma that inspired loyalty from his men. But seeing him in person was another thing entirely. As we entered, I saw him seated on a luxurious throne-like chair, radiating authority. He was wearing a golden crown, though modest in size, and his presence commanded respect. Garios looked younger than I had imagined. Though I had been told he was in his late thirties, his features made him appear closer to 25, with sharp, piercing eyes and an aura of intensity. There was something about his demeanor that drew you in¡ªan unshakable confidence, a man born to lead. As the equites commander kneeled before him, I followed suit, bowing my head in respect. ¡°You may rise,¡± Garios said, his voice smooth but authoritative. I stood, trying to keep my composure as he addressed us. ¡°I congratulate you on your successful mission,¡± Garios began, his eyes briefly flickering to Mannes¡¯ body. ¡°It saddens me to hear about Mannes'' death. He was a good man, loyal to me and the gods. I will ensure that his last rites are carried out with honor. He deserves that much.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Hearing his words, I felt a wave of emotion wash over me, but I pushed it down. ¡°Thank you, Your Highness. I would like to be present for his last rites,¡± I said. Garios nodded. ¡°You will. Mannes earned that, and you, as his companion, have earned the right to pay your respects.¡± After a brief moment of silence, Garios shifted his attention back to me. ¡°Your group, Nova, has done well for the Western Empire. I¡¯ve heard of your efforts¡ªresolving the conflict with the poachers, and now, successfully bringing the banner to me. You¡¯ve earned not only your payment but also my respect.¡± My heart pounded as he mentioned the banner. This was the moment I had been waiting for¡ªthe reason I had risked so much. Garios leaned forward, his tone shifting slightly as he began to explain the significance of the banner. ¡°Do you know the history of this banner?¡± he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. I shook my head. I had only heard whispers and tales, but nothing substantial. ¡°Around a century ago,¡± Garios began, ¡°Calradia was home to a species of insect known as Callids. They were small, unassuming creatures, mostly found in the dense forests that once covered the center of the continent. From their bodies, we could extract a remarkable thread. This thread, known as Calli, was unlike any other. It was fireproof, impervious to rot or decay, and over time, it would harden, becoming stronger and more durable. Armies in the past would carry banners made from this thread, believing it brought them luck and protection in battle.¡± He paused, his gaze intense. ¡°Many consider it a myth now, a fairy tale told to inspire soldiers. But I have led men into battle, and I have seen things I cannot explain. I believe in the power of these banners, and now, thanks to you, I have the opportunity to wield one again.¡± I stood in stunned silence, absorbing his words. I had expected the banner to be important, but this¡­ this was something else entirely. ¡°I plan to use the Calli threads to craft a new banner for my army,¡± Garios continued. ¡°With this banner, my forces will be unmatched. And as promised, you will be compensated.¡± He gestured toward the governor, who stepped forward and handed me a small bag filled with coins. ¡°10,000 denars, as agreed.¡± I accepted the payment, but my attention was soon drawn to something else. Garios reached into his robe and pulled out a folded letter. It looked unassuming, but the way he held it made it clear that it was anything but ordinary. ¡°Take this,¡± Garios said, extending the letter to me. ¡°Read it when you are alone.¡± I hesitated for a moment before taking it. Everyone in the room seemed taken aback by Garios¡¯ gesture, myself included. Is the emperor handing out a letter with his hand? It was unusual, to say the least. ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± I replied instinctively. As we left the Governor¡¯s office, my mind was racing. The weight of the banner, the importance of the letter, and the upcoming last rites for Mannes all swirled in my thoughts. I knew that whatever was inside that letter would be crucial, not just for me, but for the fate of my group¡ªand possibly the entire Western Empire. 27. Petal A flower sheds its petals after pollination, even though it knows it was those petals that attracted the pollinators. Something similar is happening to me now. All these years, Garios protected me from my family, but only for his benefit. Now, he knows that I have no more use for him, He will return me to my family¡ªa place where I see no future. These were the thoughts racing through Sora¡¯s mind as she made her way to the governor¡¯s palace. Garios had summoned her unexpectedly, and it filled her with dread. The silence of the palace corridors only worsened her growing anxiety. Garios rarely called for her alone like this, and when he did, it was never without reason. She was almost sure of it now¡ªhe was going to discard her. That¡¯s why he had asked her to meet him in private, with no one else present. It was almost as if she could feel the noose tightening around her neck. As she entered the chamber where Garios awaited her, her heart pounded in her chest. The room was dimly lit, with only the glow of the late afternoon sun creeping through the tall windows. Garios sat on his ornate chair, looking every bit the ruler of the Western Empire. His golden crown shimmered faintly in the low light, and his posture was relaxed, yet commanding. He didn¡¯t acknowledge her at first, his eyes scanning some scroll in front of him. The tension in the air made it hard for Sora to breathe. She stood there, frozen, unable to muster the courage to speak. Her mind whirled with thoughts of what her family had planned for her. She could see her stepmother¡¯s sneering face, and hear her cold voice issuing orders for Sora¡¯s downfall. There was a lump in her throat, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn¡¯t cry here, not in front of Garios. But she was on the verge of breaking. Noticing her distress, Garios finally broke the silence. His voice was calm but tinged with the faintest hint of sympathy. ¡°For me, you are just like my daughter, like Nadea,¡± Garios began, his eyes shifting from the scroll to her. ¡°Just like her, you have helped me immensely with the administration of the Western Empire. I have seen your talents and your resolve. But I¡¯m sure you¡¯re also aware of how the Argoros clan feels about you. Your mother, in particular, prays for your downfall.¡± Sora felt her heart sink at his words. She had known this for years, of course. Phenoria, her stepmother, had made her hatred for Sora clear in every possible way. Her true mother, who had passed away long ago, had once been the lady of the Argoros clan. But after her death, Sora had been treated as an outsider¡ªa pawn in the hands of a power-hungry family. Garios continued, ¡°I¡¯ve done what I can to protect you, to keep you away from the walls of Epicrotea. But I¡¯m afraid that soon, I might not be able to shield you any longer.¡± Sora could feel a cold chill running through her. She knew this was coming, but hearing it from Garios¡¯ mouth made it all the more real. ¡°Your mother,¡± Garios spat the word with disdain, ¡°has warned me that she will switch her allegiance to the Northern Empire if I don¡¯t hand you over to her. You know how important Epicrotea is to my empire, don¡¯t you? It is the gateway to the northern trade routes, and losing it would be a severe blow to the Western Empire. But at the same time, I cannot abandon you.¡± The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Sora¡¯s heart raced. She could almost hear Phenoria¡¯s voice in her head, plotting her end.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Garios leaned forward, his tone lowering. ¡°I have a plan in mind, one that may offer you a way out of this. Phenoria has already taken steps to rid herself of you. She¡¯s recruited a mercenary group¡ªforest bandits with bounties on their heads. In 12 days, when I depart for the front lines against the Battanians, they will enter the city. They¡¯re camping just outside the settlement as we speak, waiting for their moment.¡± Sora¡¯s breath caught in her throat. ¡°Twelve days,¡± she whispered, her mind spinning. Garios nodded grimly. ¡°They are heavily armed, and there¡¯s little I can do to stop them. They have spies within the city, so any attempt to leave before they strike would likely end with them attacking you on the road. And knowing Phenoria, whatever she has planned for you is far worse than death.¡± He paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. Sora could hardly breathe, her thoughts racing. ¡°Then¡­ what should I do?¡± she asked, her voice trembling. ¡°There is a way,¡± Garios said. ¡°That bandit group has around 15 men. But, suppose another mercenary group comes in¡ªone with no direct ties to me¡ªand wipes them out for the bounty on their head. No one would question it. No one would know the truth. You¡¯d be free, and with the bandits dead, Phenoria would lose her grip on you.¡± Sora blinked, trying to process what Garios was suggesting. ¡°You mean¡­ I should hire another group to fight them?¡± ¡°Precisely,¡± Garios replied, his expression softening. ¡°I¡¯ve already found a suitable group for the task. It was once led by one of my old officers, but after his recent death, a new lad has taken over. They are not the strongest¡ªaround 20 men, and they¡¯re quite green¡ªbut with your guidance, I believe they can be trained well enough to handle those bandits.¡± Sora nodded slowly, understanding what Garios was asking. ¡°And if I train them¡­ you think they¡¯ll be able to defeat the bandits?¡± ¡°With your skills, I¡¯m confident,¡± Garios said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen what you¡¯re capable of, and I know you¡¯ll figure something out. You have 11 days to prepare them before I depart for the frontlines on the 12th day. After that, it¡¯ll be your fight.¡± Sora was quiet for a moment, taking in the enormity of what Garios was saying. He was giving her a chance¡ªa dangerous, slim chance¡ªbut a chance nonetheless. ¡°And what about after?¡± Sora asked, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Once the bandits are taken care of, you¡¯ll be free to leave. I suggest traveling either to the Aserai or Sturgian lands. Valandia is out of the question; your family would likely use diplomatic channels to bring you back. The Khuzaits are too far. But in Aserai or Sturgian lands, you¡¯ll be out of Phenoria¡¯s reach.¡± Sora nodded, her heart heavy with the realization that this might be her only option. Running away had never been part of her plan, but the alternative was a fate far worse than death. Garios continued, ¡°Tomorrow, the mercenary group leader will be coming here to receive a medal from the current governor and to attend the last rites of his friend. Approach him then. I¡¯ve given him a letter myself, awarding him the medal. No one will suspect my involvement in this, as I¡¯ve done this many times before. I have rewarded many other groups before.¡± Sora¡¯s mind raced with possibilities. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, her voice breaking slightly. Garios smiled faintly. ¡°You¡¯ve suffered enough, Sora. It¡¯s time you enjoyed your freedom.¡± As she turned to leave the chamber, Garios added, ¡°And remember, once you¡¯re free, you must never look back. The empire will move on without you, as you must move on without it.¡± Sora nodded the weight of his words settling deep in her heart. She was walking a dangerous path now, but at least it was one of her choosing. As she stepped out into the cool evening air, her mind was already beginning to form a plan. Freedom was within her grasp, but it would come at a cost. 28. Potential I couldn¡¯t stop myself from opening the letter, especially since it came directly from Garios, one of the most powerful contenders for the throne of Calradia and the leader of the Western Empire. As soon as I unfolded the parchment, I saw it was an invitation¡ªan award ceremony, no less. The letter stated that I would receive a medal from the current active governor of Lageta. That same governor who, last time, wouldn¡¯t even give me an audience. Well, I suppose I am still a nobody in his eyes, so his disregard made sense. I squinted at the fine script on the parchment, locating the venue and timing. The ceremony was scheduled for early tomorrow morning at the governor¡¯s palace. I guessed that not many people would bother attending, especially given the eerie atmosphere hanging over the city. After the ceremony, there was to be a more solemn occasion¡ªthe rites for Mannes. His body was being cared for by the Pontifex, a religious figure of the Empire who, as far as I knew, would be performing the rites. They were washing him with olive oil, as was the custom. I didn¡¯t know much about the Empire¡¯s funeral practices, but the idea of Mannes, my friend and mentor, being prepared for his final journey weighed heavily on me. I¡¯d have to wait until tomorrow to see how the rites would be performed, but even now, I could feel the grief swirling just beneath the surface. The city still felt like it was holding its breath. As I stepped out into the streets, the faint smell of damp earth from a recent rain lingered in the air. The scent mixed with the sharper, more metallic undertones of the stone buildings, as if the rain had cleansed the streets, but something grim still loomed. Few vendors had bothered to reopen their stalls after the storm, and the silence was suffocating. The usual clatter of carts and chatter of people was absent, replaced by the eerie sound of boots from garrison soldiers echoing through the narrow streets. It was completely different from what I had seen the last time I was here. I remembered my last visit to the market, where I had encountered a girl while searching for supplies. The funny thing is, even though she had stood out to me in the crowd, I couldn¡¯t recall her face. It was a vague memory now, like smoke that had dispersed in the wind. I wondered what she was doing, and where she was now, but even those thoughts felt distant. Leaving the city, I walked toward the camp where Silvana and the recruits had set up. The smell of campfire smoke greeted me before I even saw the tents. As I got closer, I could pick out the mingling scents of cooked meat and burning wood¡ªsimple but comforting smells that made the camp feel like a temporary refuge from the weight of the world outside. Silvana had organized everything efficiently. The recruits had set up their tents in neat rows, with the firepit at the center, surrounded by makeshift benches made from logs. A few pots hung over the fire, simmering with the night¡¯s meal. The air was thick with the aroma of herbs mixed with the earthy richness of meat, a fragrance that reminded me of home, of simpler times. As I approached, I asked Silvana, ¡°Have we already paid the recruits and made sure there¡¯s enough food to go around?¡± She looked up from her task, her hands working swiftly as she packed away some supplies. ¡°Yes, everything¡¯s been handled. Food¡¯s ready, and the recruits have been paid.¡± Her response was crisp, almost matter-of-fact. She had taken on the quartermaster responsibilities with ease, and it was clear she was excelling in the role. I wanted to commend her and show some appreciation for her efforts, but before I could, one of the recruits interrupted.Stolen story; please report. Leon, a young man with a mischievous streak, said, ¡°Silvana, I¡¯ve run out of coins. Any chance I could get an advance on my next payment?¡± Silvana¡¯s expression darkened, and I could tell by the look on her face that Leon was about to get a stern lecture. I didn¡¯t stick around to hear it. I chuckled to myself, knowing he¡¯d likely spent all his pay on drinks, and left them to it. I preferred to enjoy my dinner in peace. The meal was simple¡ªjust bread and meat, seasoned with some herbs and olive oil. As I bit into the bread, the faint taste of thyme and rosemary hit my tongue, followed by the richer, savory flavor of the meat. It was the kind of meal a Roman soldier might have eaten, practical and nourishing. But it did its job, warming me up after a long day and keeping my energy up for whatever lay ahead. As I ate, my mind wandered back to the system that had revealed itself to me. I had been too busy dealing with Mannes¡¯ death to explore its functions fully, but now that I had some time, I decided to dive into the mechanics a bit more. I opened the party screen again while chewing on the last piece of bread. The information laid out in front of me was almost overwhelming in its detail. I could see every recruit¡¯s name, their potential, and even their morale. Leon - Potential: Archer/Cavalry/Blacksmith - Rank: Regular soldier - Companion status: Cannot be converted to companion - Morale: Average - Gear: Poor - Daily wage: 5 denars Leon¡¯s profile was basic, like the others, but the potential system intrigued me the most. The system categorized what roles each recruit might excel at¡ªarchery, cavalry, or even blacksmithing. It felt like a hidden layer of knowledge that would be crucial to my survival and future battles. Since I knew their potential I tried to group them based on that. For Silvana the stats were Silvana - Potential: Archer/ Tracker(Scout) - Rank: Companion (1/8) - Companion status: Converted - Morale: High - Loyalty: High < Companion exclusive> - Gear: Poor - Daily wage: 5 denars I looked at stats and figured that out of my 23 recruits, I could have at most 16 infantry, 8 cavalrymen, and 6 archers at a time based on the fact that some of the recruits like Leon had potential in multiple skills whereas some like Silvana was only proficient in one of the combat classes. Each soldier¡¯s wage was also listed, down to the denar. I could see who was worth their salt and who might need a little more time to grow. The system was a cheat in a way, giving me insights that no normal commander would have, but I wasn¡¯t about to complain. Before I knew it, the night had fallen, and the camp was settling in for rest. The crackling of the fire and the distant murmur of recruits talking quietly among themselves filled the air. The warmth of the fire mixed with the cool night breeze, and as I sat there, I realized just how much responsibility I now carried. Whether I liked it or not, I was now in charge of this group. 29. Remember Me? I woke up earlier than usual, the dawn barely breaking through the darkness. Today was no ordinary day. I had the award ceremony ahead of me, followed by the funeral rites for Mannes. I didn¡¯t want to be late for either. The weight of both events pressed heavily on my mind. Mannes¡ªhe wasn¡¯t just a friend, but more like family to me, a mentor. The thought of his passing stirred memories of my own family¡¯s funeral. It was as if all those old emotions I thought I had buried were rushing back at once. I gathered Silvana and a few other recruits who wished to participate in the ceremony, and we made our way to the city hall. The streets of Lageta were still eerily quiet. The air was crisp, but there was a lingering dampness from the rain the night before. As we approached the gates, I presented Garios¡¯ letter. The guards allowed us through without much fuss, and we made our way toward the town hall. When we arrived, a bald man, likely in his sixties, sat on a decorated chair in the center of the room. His disinterested eyes scanned me lazily, and without so much a word, he handed me the medal. That was it. That was the ceremony I had been expecting would involve some acknowledgment or recognition. No praise, no applause, not even a proper gathering. I stood there, stunned, my expectations crushed. This was how they rewarded us? A small, almost dismissive ceremony with no fanfare whatsoever. A man approached me before I could dwell too long on my disappointment. He was dressed in an expensive tunic, so I assumed he was someone of importance. He instructed the others to head directly to Mannes¡¯ rites outside the city, but then turned to me specifically, gesturing for me to follow him. ¡°You¡¯ll come with me,¡± he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Though his face was unfamiliar, I decided to trust him, albeit with a sense of caution gnawing at the back of my mind. He led me to a place that looked out of place in this medieval world¡ªa sophisticated establishment, more like a modern-day caf¨¦ where nobles would gather to sip on fine tea or coffee. I entered cautiously, and there, at a table, sat a woman who I felt I had seen before. There was something familiar about her, but I couldn¡¯t quite place it. As I met her gaze, she smiled warmly at first, as if recognizing me. But then, just as quickly, her smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. She stood up from her seat gracefully. ¡°I heard they¡¯re preparing for Mannes¡¯ rites on the outskirts. We should hurry,¡± she said, breaking the silence. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you on the way.¡± The shift in her demeanor was strange. She had been the one who brought me here, but now she was acting as if time was running out. Without another word, she began walking, and I followed, though my mind raced with questions. Why had she brought me here, and what did she want? We walked in silence for a while, her steps quick but purposeful. Just when I thought she wasn¡¯t going to say anything else, she suddenly stopped at a pottery shop along the way. She turned to me with a curious look in her eyes. ¡°Do you remember me?¡± she asked.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I racked my brain, but nothing came to mind. These past few days had been a blur, filled with grief, ceremonies, and battles. Trying to recall every face I had seen was impossible. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I admitted. ¡°I might be forgetting¡­ When did we meet exactly?¡± She paused, seemingly disappointed by my answer. ¡°We should buy some pots,¡± she said flatly. Her response took me by surprise. A pot? Why would I need to buy a pot? I was more confused than ever. ¡°For what?¡± I asked. Her eyes narrowed as she looked directly at me, her gaze cold and piercing. ¡°If you¡¯re pretending to be an imperial citizen,¡± she said, her voice low, ¡°you should at least learn the culture.¡± I could feel my pulse quicken. It was as if she had seen right through me. I wanted to explain, to argue, but she raised a finger to my lips, signaling for silence. Her expression left no room for questions, and I swallowed whatever protest I had. Whoever this woman was, she knew too much¡ªmore than I was comfortable with. And her ability to unsettle me with just a look made my skin crawl. It was almost as if she knew that I didn¡¯t belong in this world. As we walked toward the outskirts of the city, where Mannes¡¯ cremation rites were to be held, she finally broke the silence. Her voice was calm, almost detached, as she explained the intricacies of the Empire¡¯s funeral rites. She described how Mannes¡¯ body had been washed with olive oil the day before and adorned with flowers. Today, we would offer him gifts¡ªobjects that would be useful to him in the afterlife. She explained that cremations were always held outside the city to avoid the risk of fire hazards. Her behavior was erratic. A few moments ago, she had given me the coldest, most unsettling look I¡¯d ever seen, and now she was chatting away like a child, talking about funerary customs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. This woman¡ªwhoever she was¡ªwas not normal. Her constant shifts in mood, and her sudden coldness followed by childlike explanations, made me wary of her intentions. I kept my guard up, unsure of what her endgame was. As the funeral proceeded, everything went exactly as she had described. We offered the pots we had purchased, placing them alongside Mannes¡¯ body. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, mingling with the faint, sweet smell of olive oil. The crackling of the fire soon followed as the flames began to consume the wood and, eventually, Mannes'' body. The heat from the pyre washed over us, but it did little to warm the chill that had settled deep in my bones. As the ceremony neared its end, the woman beside me removed the cloth covering her short hair, revealing more of her face. She reached into her purse and pulled out a bracelet¡ªa simple piece of jewelry that I instantly recognized. The memory hit me like a bolt of lightning. ¡°You¡¯re that girl¡­,¡± I started, my voice trailing off as the realization dawned. ¡°The one I met in the shop¡­ I remember now. That bracelet... I wasn¡¯t wrong it suits you.¡± The words slipped out before I could stop them, but she looked unphased at me. ¡°Augustus,¡± she said, her tone steady, ¡°I am not just a girl. My name is Sora.¡± 30. New Beginning Sora and I began talking, though it quickly became clear that neither of us was eager to share too much about our personal lives. The conversation remained professional, the kind of guarded exchange you''d have with someone you don¡¯t fully trust. Silvana and the other recruits who attended the funeral met with Sora too, but it wasn¡¯t much of a conversation¡ªit felt more like an interrogation. Sora peppered us with questions about the previous assignments we¡¯d taken on, evaluating our abilities and our successes. After a while, she asked Silvana and the others if they could leave the two of us alone. "I may have a contract for your group, Nova," she said, her voice calm but holding a certain weight. The others didn¡¯t hesitate to leave me alone with her, trusting that I could handle whatever Sora had in mind. Once they were gone, the atmosphere around us changed. Standing near the ashes of Mannes, the man who built our group from nothing, the conversation shifted from personal matters to a new task she had in mind for the very group that Mannes had created. Sora''s tone was strange, almost distant. "What¡¯s your objective?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. Her question caught me off guard. What was Nova''s objective? I remembered my talks with Mannes. His voice rang in my ears as if he were standing beside me, reminding me of his ideals. ¡°They kill, they enslave, they take whatever they want without a second thought.¡± He had wanted our group to be different. He was a man with strong principles, perhaps too good for this world. But I still wondered¡ªhow did someone like him develop such a rigid ideology after being betrayed by his closest friend? Had he been right, or was he just too idealistic? I was lost in thought, but Sora brought me back to reality. ¡°I was expecting an easy answer," she said. "Gold, fame, women¡­ aren¡¯t those things you¡¯re after?¡± Her words were sharp, but I could see she wasn¡¯t entirely serious. I gave her a measured response, explaining Mannes¡¯ vision and how I had come to help him build Nova. But then she interrupted me again, a slight smirk on her lips. ¡°Now that Mannes is gone, do you plan to follow in his footsteps, or will you carve your path?¡± I paused, thinking about her words. Before I could respond, she continued, ¡°It¡¯s up to you. But I have a proposal, one that might interest you.¡± She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering as if she were about to share a secret. ¡°It¡¯s simple,¡± she said. ¡°Get rid of a bandit group for me. There are only ten of them, but they¡¯re well-equipped and veterans of looting and pillaging. Luckily for you, they¡¯re understrength. They¡¯ve lost men recently, so numbers are on your side.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. I nodded, listening intently as she laid out the task. ¡°The good news,¡± she continued, ¡°is that you have more than just numbers on your side. You have me. I may look like this, but I¡¯m a noble. I have connections and resources that can be of use to you and your men. If you succeed, not only will you gain fame and fortune, but I¡¯ll personally train you and your army. I can help you with equipment, tactics, everything. It¡¯s a deal you can¡¯t refuse.¡± Killing bandits wasn¡¯t against Mannes¡¯ principles, but I still felt a twinge of caution. This offer sounded almost too good to be true. ¡°What are the finer details of the contract?¡± I asked, trying to gauge if there were any traps hidden beneath her offer. Sora explained the terms in more detail. The bandits were all wanted criminals, each with a bounty of 1,000 denars on their heads. If we succeeded, the bounty alone would bring in 10,000 denars. On top of that, Sora promised to personally pay me 8,000 denars and provide training for my men. The benefits outweighed the risks. It wasn¡¯t the most complicated contract we¡¯d taken on, so I accepted it on behalf of Nova. After the deal was struck, we were granted entrance to the city. Sora arranged for us to stay in a large house¡ªa luxury compared to the inns and camps we were used to. The house had eight rooms, each brightly lit by wide windows that allowed the sun to flood in. The scent of fresh herbs and lavender hung in the air, a welcome change from the staleness of the outdoors. The wooden floors creaked beneath our feet, but they were polished to a shine, reflecting the afternoon light. The house was leagues better than anything I¡¯d stayed in before. The rooms were spacious, with plush beds covered in fine linen. Each room had a small basin for washing, and the furniture looked like something fit for a minor noble. A far cry from the rough camp tents we¡¯d been sleeping in. After we¡¯d settled in, the recruits were already lounging in their rooms, marveling at the luxury. By the time the afternoon rolled around, Sora appeared at the doorstep with a letter, a few books, and a couple of garrison troops by her side. The letter was a formal decree, permitting us to train with the garrison at their camp. I was eager to train with the city¡¯s soldiers, but Sora seemed to have different plans. ¡°While the others are off training, you and I will have a bit of fun,¡± she said with a wink, holding up one of the books she¡¯d brought. Her words left me dumbfounded. I wasn¡¯t sure what to make of her. Silvana and the other recruits didn¡¯t notice Sora¡¯s gesture¡ªthey were already preparing to head off to the training grounds with the garrison. I waved them off, still trying to process Sora¡¯s strange behavior. ¡°This has to be the weirdest client I¡¯ve ever had,¡± I thought. Before they left, I remembered the party screen I had explored earlier. I quickly jotted down the potential of each recruit on a piece of paper and handed it to Sora. ¡°Here,¡± I said. ¡°This should help you instruct the trainers on how to focus their efforts.¡± She glanced at the paper, scanning it briefly before handing it over to a garrison soldier while smiling at me she said ¡°Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re any good at judging a man¡¯s worth,¡± she teased. Then, with a playful smirk, she grabbed my hand and pulled me inside the house. The door shut behind us, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel like I was about to step into yet another strange chapter in this increasingly bizarre tale. 31. My little Warband After entering the house, Sora didn¡¯t even let me catch my breath. She immediately sat on one of the ornate wooden chairs and pulled out three books she had brought. The whole setup reminded me of my childhood when I was forced to sit down and study, whether I liked it or not. The way Sora began to tutor me was eerily reminiscent of those days, though this time, the stakes were much higher. The difference was, when I was a kid, studying felt like a chore, something you had to do because your parents told you to. Now, everything we were discussing could decide whether I and the rest of Nova lived or died. The room was dimly lit by the sunshine and a large lantern on the corner of the table. The smell of wood and old leather filled the air, mixed with the slight scent of lavender from a small pouch that hung by the window. It was a simple but well-maintained house, far better than anything I had stayed in during my time here. Sora laid the books out on the table between us, explaining how she had divided our discussion into four key topics: weapons and armor, supplies, hierarchy of command, and troop welfare. She was thorough, speaking with the kind of confidence that only came from a life of experience. If we could improve on these four points, she said, our group would stand out from the rest of the mercenary companies in Calradia. ¡°Weapons and armor are what will keep your men alive. You don¡¯t want them to be cannon fodder,¡± she said as she flipped through one of the books. I nodded, already feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. Mannes was gone, and now it was on me to carry forward the ideals he had set for Nova. The problem was, I wasn¡¯t sure if I was cut out for it. But I had no choice. Sora¡¯s voice brought me back to the present as she continued to outline her plan. The first thing we tackled was the discussion on weapons and armor for the recruits. There were a lot of improvements that Sora proposed. She suggested that each recruit be issued basic, inexpensive armor when they joined the party. It wouldn¡¯t be anything fancy, just enough to give them a fighting chance. If a recruit performed well in our assignments, we could reward them by upgrading their gear. Alternatively, they could also choose to upgrade their armor using their earnings or loot from fallen enemies. ¡°We need to make sure it¡¯s cheap but functional,¡± she explained. ¡°We don¡¯t want to bankrupt ourselves before we¡¯ve even taken our first real steps as a group.¡± I nodded, understanding the importance of managing our resources. She suggested we start with gambesons, padded cloth armor, or basic leather armor, which were inexpensive enough to be given to every recruit and could be produced with relative ease. These materials weren¡¯t as durable as chainmail or plate armor, but they would be effective enough for recruits who had yet to prove themselves in battle. The table between us was cluttered with pieces of paper, notes scribbled in different directions. The weight of each decision we made was like a stone pressing on my chest. It wasn¡¯t just about equipping soldiers; it was about ensuring their survival. Next, we discussed arming the recruits. Much like the armor, the weapons they received would be basic at first, but they could be upgraded later. I told her that the weapons currently in use by our troops were inconsistent and of varying quality. Some recruits were using frails and pitchforks, while others carried axes or spears. Many of the weapons were farming tools repurposed for combat¡ªfrails that were used to strike piles of grain or axes that had once chopped wood. This was a common practice for peasants who joined mercenary groups. ¡°I wanted to give each recruit a sword and shield,¡± I said, ¡°but that¡¯s not realistic, is it?¡± Sora shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. ¡°Swords are expensive, Augustus. Too expensive. But we can start with something cheaper.¡± After a long discussion, we settled on the idea of arming the recruits with wooden javelins tipped with metal. These would be versatile weapons, capable of being thrown from a distance, and they would do damage whether they hit flesh or pierced armor. For close combat, we would issue spears and billhooks¡ªsimple weapons that were effective for both thrusting and slashing. To round out their equipment, each recruit would carry a small knife or a single-bladed axe, tools that could serve multiple purposes both on and off the battlefield. ¡°Weapons that can serve in both day-to-day life and war,¡± Sora mused, ¡°that¡¯s what we¡¯re aiming for.¡± I felt a sense of pride, thinking about how far Nova had come in such a short time. But then, reality hit me¡ªthis wasn¡¯t a game anymore. There were no do-overs if I made the wrong choice. While Sora began calculating the costs for these upgrades, something occurred to me. ¡°What about bows?¡± I asked. ¡°We don¡¯t have any ranged capabilities.¡± She thought for a moment, resting her chin on her hand, but her expression showed some dissatisfaction. ¡°Training soldiers to use bows takes time¡ªtime we don¡¯t have,¡± she said. ¡°But I have an alternative: crossbows. Light crossbows are more expensive, but they require less training than longbows. We can issue them to a few of our recruits and save on other gear since they won¡¯t need much for melee combat.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. When she finished her calculations, the numbers were daunting. ¡°It¡¯ll cost us about one thousand denars to fully equip a crossbowman,¡± she explained, ¡°mostly due to the cost of the crossbows themselves. For a regular soldier, we¡¯re looking at four hundred eighty denars per recruit.¡± I did a quick calculation in my head. If I wanted six crossbowmen and seventeen regular soldiers, it would cost us around fourteen thousand five hundred denars¡ªjust about the amount we had saved. It was a sobering realization. We couldn¡¯t afford to equip everyone just yet, but at least now we had a detailed plan and an estimate to work from. By the time we finished discussing the equipment, the sun was beginning to set. I was starting to feel the weight of the day, but Sora¡¯s enthusiasm showed no signs of waning. She was relentless, pushing us to the next topic: supplies. Just as we started, the recruits returned from their training with the garrison. They looked bruised and battered, some of them so pale they seemed like they had seen a ghost. I felt a pang of guilt. I wanted to greet them and check on their progress, but Sora quickly shut the door, keeping them outside while we continued our discussion. I couldn¡¯t help but feel a little jealous. They were finally getting a chance to rest while I was stuck here discussing logistics late into the night. We moved on to the topic of supplies, and as usual, Sora had a lot to say. I could see the glint of determination in her eyes as she launched into her plan, outlining exactly what we would need to keep Nova running efficiently. ¡°The key to any successful mercenary group isn¡¯t just strength in battle,¡± she said, leaning forward. ¡°It¡¯s the ability to keep your men well-fed, well-armed, and healthy. Supplies are everything.¡± She was right, of course. It didn¡¯t matter how well we equipped our soldiers if we couldn¡¯t provide them with enough food and resources to keep them going through the long campaigns ahead. We discussed how each recruit would be responsible for carrying their own armor and personal tools while marching, but it wouldn¡¯t be enough for larger operations. ¡°For bigger jobs,¡± Sora said, ¡°we¡¯ll need pack animals. Mules, maybe even horses, to help transport goods and equipment. It¡¯ll allow us to move faster and with more agility.¡± The cost was another burden on my already strained finances, but it was necessary. We couldn¡¯t afford to be slow or poorly supplied if we were going to take on more dangerous assignments. The thought of buying mules wasn¡¯t exactly exciting, but it would improve the group¡¯s logistics, allowing us to transport more food, water, and weapons. ¡°We¡¯ll have to invest in good storage for food as well,¡± she added, scribbling more notes. ¡°No point in gathering all these supplies if they spoil on the road.¡± By this point, my head was starting to spin. There were so many things to consider that I never even thought about before, and it was exhausting trying to keep track of everything. But I knew Sora was right. All of this was vital if we were going to keep Nova alive and thriving. Next, we moved on to the hierarchy of command. This was something I had no real experience with, and it was starting to show. ¡°In any well-organized group,¡± Sora began, ¡°you can¡¯t have a single leader giving orders to every soldier. That¡¯s a recipe for chaos. You need officers¡ªpeople you can trust to relay your commands and keep their squads in check.¡± The idea made sense. It was too difficult for me to manage every single recruit personally, especially as our group grew larger. Having a chain of command would make everything smoother, but finding the right people to act as officers was going to be the real challenge. ¡°I¡¯ve seen how some of your men follow orders,¡± she said, looking at me with a serious expression. ¡°But you need to identify the ones with leadership potential. They need to be able to think on their feet, make decisions, and rally the others in tough situations.¡± I nodded, thinking about the few recruits who had shown some promise during our previous assignments. But how could I trust anyone the way I trusted Mannes? The thought of his betrayal still lingered in the back of my mind. Sora must have sensed my hesitation because she reached across the table, placing a hand on my shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out,¡± she said softly. ¡°You¡¯ve made it this far. Trust your instincts.¡± Her words gave me some comfort, but the weight of the responsibility still pressed down on me. I had to be careful with who I chose¡ªNova¡¯s survival depended on it. Finally, we discussed the welfare of the troops. Sora had saved this topic for last, and by the time we got to it, I was completely drained. But I listened as she explained the importance of keeping the soldiers¡¯ morale high and ensuring that they were well-cared for, both in life and death. ¡°Mercenaries don¡¯t have much security,¡± she said, ¡°so if you want loyalty, you¡¯ll have to offer them something more than just coin. Start a savings system. Hold back a portion of their pay, and if they¡¯re ever injured, or worse, if they die, that money can go to their families. It¡¯s an insurance policy of sorts.¡± The idea struck me as brilliant. Most mercenaries didn¡¯t expect much beyond their daily wages, but offering them something more, a safety net for their loved ones could make all the difference. It would keep them loyal to Nova, knowing that even if they fell in battle, their families would be taken care of. Sora also proposed allowing soldiers to request an advance on their wages if they had served for at least a month. ¡°Sometimes life throws unexpected challenges,¡± she said, ¡°and they¡¯ll appreciate having the option to get paid ahead of time if they need it.¡± By this point, I could barely keep my eyes open. I had pulled all-nighters before, but never for something like this. Back on Earth, I would have stayed up late playing games, not discussing troop welfare. But here I was, feeling like my brain was melting from all the information Sora had crammed into it. Sora, on the other hand, showed no signs of slowing down. She was still scribbling notes and calculating costs, her energy seemingly endless. Meanwhile, my body was screaming for rest. I agreed to her last proposal about the advance pay, thinking that it was better than anything I had in my old job back on Earth. I tried to stay awake, to contribute more to the conversation, but it was hopeless. My mind shut down, and before I knew it, I had slumped forward, falling asleep in the chair. The last thing I remembered was Sora¡¯s voice, still rattling off ideas as I drifted off into a deep, much-needed sleep. 32. Tools of Victory I woke up in the early afternoon, the sunlight streaming through the cracks in the shutters, casting warm patches of light across the room. My body felt heavy, as though the weight of exhaustion had pulled it down. I blinked a few times, trying to shake the fog from my mind. The last thing I remembered was being in that chair, slumped over as Sora went on about supplies, troop management, and the hierarchy of command. I must have fallen asleep. I sat up, my body stiff from the awkward position I must have slept in. The room was quiet, and the smell of fresh herbs lingered in the air. My clothes were folded neatly on a chair beside the bed, and as I stretched, I noticed that I was alone. How had I even gotten into bed? A wave of embarrassment washed over me. Had I fallen asleep in the middle of a discussion? It felt unprofessional, especially after how seriously Sora had been taking everything. I wondered if she thought less of me now. I was supposed to be the leader of this mercenary group, and here I was, dozing off in the middle of an important conversation. Before I could dwell too much on my embarrassment, the door creaked open, and Sora entered the room. She was as calm and composed as ever, her sharp eyes surveying me with a knowing look. "Good afternoon," she said, a slight smile on her lips. "I see you finally decided to rejoin the land of the living." I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the flush of embarrassment return. "Yeah... I, uh, didn¡¯t mean to fall asleep like that. Sorry about that." Sora shook her head, dismissing my apology with a wave of her hand. "It¡¯s fine. You were exhausted, and it was obvious you needed the rest. You¡¯ve had a lot on your shoulders lately." Her words were kind, but I still felt guilty. "Still, it wasn¡¯t very professional of me." She smirked. "Well, it wasn¡¯t like we were in the middle of a battle. Just a bit of logistics and planning. You didn¡¯t miss much, don¡¯t worry." I chuckled, though the tension in my chest hadn¡¯t quite disappeared. "I suppose that¡¯s true." "Anyway," Sora continued, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "while you were resting, I made sure things kept moving forward. The others have already left for training." My eyes widened. "Already? What time is it?" "Early afternoon. You slept through the morning," she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips. I groaned inwardly. "I should¡¯ve been up earlier." "You needed the rest. Besides, you didn¡¯t miss anything important. I¡¯ve been handling things," she said. "But, there¡¯s something else. I managed to arrange a deal for all the gear, weapons, and mules we talked about last night." I blinked in surprise. "Already? That quickly?" Sora nodded, her expression serious again. "Yes. I have connections with the garrison. We can get everything we need for around fourteen thousand denars." Fourteen thousand denars. It was a hefty sum, but considering the improvements it would bring to Nova, it felt like a necessary investment. I thought about our ragtag group of recruits and how much stronger they would be with proper equipment. The cost was high, but the reward was worth it. After all, Mannes would¡¯ve wanted this for the group.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I nodded. "Let¡¯s do it. I¡¯ll spend the money." A satisfied smile spread across Sora¡¯s face. "Good choice. This will take Nova to the next level." She stood up and gestured for me to follow her. I quickly got dressed and we left the room, heading out into the bright afternoon sun. The streets were bustling with activity now, the sounds of merchants hawking their goods and soldiers barking orders filling the air. As we made our way through the city, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. This was a big step for Nova. We were about to outfit our recruits with proper gear, transforming them from ragtag into well-equipped mercenary groups. It felt like the beginning of something greater, something that could set us apart from the other mercenary bands. The garrison store was located near the barracks, a large building with racks of weapons and armor displayed outside. The store was an exclusive place for kingdom armies so a mercenary like me had no chance to buy anything from the store. But thanks to Sora it was possible. A burly man with a thick beard stood at the entrance, arms crossed as he watched us approach. "Lady Sora," he greeted her with a respectful nod. "Everything¡¯s ready." Sora nodded back. "Let¡¯s see the inventory." The quartermaster led us inside, and I was greeted by rows of armor¡ªgambesons, padded cloth, and leather¡ªalong with shields, spears, and billhooks. The crossbows were lined up on one side, their sleek wooden frames catching the light. "This is everything," Sora said, gesturing to the neatly organized equipment. "Seventeen sets of infantry gear and six crossbows, just like we discussed." I ran my hand along the leather of one of the padded armors, inspecting the quality. It wasn¡¯t the finest, but it was sturdy and durable, far better than what my recruits were currently using. The weapons were practical, and I could already imagine how much of a difference they would make on the battlefield. The quartermaster handed me a ledger, where I could see the total cost written down: fourteen thousand denars. I handed over the coins, watching as he carefully counted them before noting the transaction in his book. He also informed me that he would prepare the two mules that were in the contract in the next five days. "It¡¯s a solid investment," Sora said as we watched the quartermaster¡¯s men begin loading the equipment onto carts. "Your recruits will be far more effective with this gear." "Yeah," I agreed, the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders again. "We¡¯re getting stronger." Once the transaction was complete, Sora and I arranged for the equipment to be delivered to our house. As we walked back, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. This was the kind of progress Nova needed. With the new gear, we could handle tougher assignments and face stronger enemies. When we returned, the recruits were just finishing up their training. They looked exhausted but satisfied with their work. Silvana was overseeing them, and when she saw us approaching with the carts full of equipment, her eyes lit up with excitement. The quartermaster¡¯s men began unloading the gear, and I gathered the recruits to distribute it. Each of the seventeen infantrymen received their new armor, shields, spears, and billhooks, while the six crossbowmen were outfitted with their crossbows and knives. The recruits couldn¡¯t hide their excitement as they tried on the new gear, testing the weight of their weapons and adjusting their armor. As I watched them, I felt a surge of pride. Nova was becoming something more than just a small band of mercenaries. We were evolving into a proper fighting force, capable of taking on greater challenges and tougher enemies. Sora stood beside me, her arms crossed as she observed the recruits with a satisfied smile. "Looks like they¡¯re happy," she said. "They¡¯ve earned it," I replied, my chest swelling with pride. "We¡¯re ready for whatever comes next." This was just the beginning. 33. Strained Resources After two days of relentless preparation¡ªdiscussing supplies, gathering equipment, and organizing everything with Sora¡ªI finally felt like we were ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead. The gears were in place, and we¡¯d managed to equip seventeen of our men as infantry and the other six as crossbowmen. It had been a long two days, with a lot of decisions to make, but we pulled through. The air felt lighter today as if the weight of all the planning had been lifted. Now, it was time to focus on something I hadn¡¯t been able to do much: train with my troops. It was still early when I stepped out into the courtyard. The cool air clung to the remnants of the morning, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and the distant clamor of metal on metal. I had eight days left to train my men, and this was the first day I would personally be leading them into it. It was a different kind of excitement, a restless energy. I had fought alongside these guys, and seen their potential in skirmishes, but now it was time to shape them into a proper unit. The recruits were already in the field when I arrived. Leon and Silvana had done a commendable job organizing them. I could see the rough forms of battle formations being practiced, spears held steady, shields locked together. Silvana stood with the crossbowmen on the far side, demonstrating a proper stance to one of the younger recruits, her movements precise and calculated. Conversely, Leon was barking orders at the infantry, his voice rough but encouraging. There was no doubt that both of them had earned their positions. I approached them both, nodding as I observed their efforts. ¡°Good work,¡± I said, stepping up beside Leon. ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot to do, but this is a solid start.¡± He smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow. ¡°They¡¯re tough, but they¡¯ll need more discipline if we¡¯re going to face any real threats.¡± ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here today.¡± I patted his shoulder and glanced over at Silvana, who gave me a small nod. Her crossbowmen were lined up, ready to fire at a set of wooden targets we had built just the day before. The field was lively with activity, the sound of men grunting as they sparred with wooden weapons, the thud of arrows and bolts hitting the targets, and the steady clink of armor being adjusted. The sun was high now, beating down on us, and the atmosphere felt heavy with anticipation. My mind, however, was elsewhere. While watching the troops go through their drills, I couldn¡¯t help but think about the system¡ªspecifically, the ability to check someone¡¯s loyalty if they became my companion. This feature was still new to me, but I realized that if I wanted to avoid betrayal, like what happened to Mannes, it would be wise to make officers out of my companions. Trust had to be earned, but the system gave me a way to solidify that trust. With that in mind, I decided to act. Silvana, with her skill in archery and cool-headed demeanor, was the perfect candidate to lead the crossbowmen. Her loyalty to me had never been in question. Leon, while not as experienced, was popular among the infantry, and I needed someone the men would follow without hesitation. He had earned their respect in small ways¡ªwhether it was sharing his food with a hungry recruit or cracking a joke during the hardest of drills, the men listened when Leon spoke. I approached Silvana first. She was watching her unit closely, correcting stances and offering advice with the calm authority I had come to respect. I waited until she finished speaking to one of the recruits before stepping closer. ¡°Silvana,¡± I called, catching her attention. She looked up, her brow furrowed slightly as if expecting bad news. ¡°Everything alright?¡± she asked, wiping her hands on her tunic. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking,¡± I said, my tone more serious than I intended. ¡°You¡¯ve proven yourself over and over again, and I think it¡¯s time we make it official.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Official? What do you mean?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I want you to be in charge of the crossbow unit,¡± I replied, watching her reaction. ¡°An officer, with a pay raise to match. You¡¯ve earned it.¡± There was a brief moment of surprise in her eyes before it was replaced with her usual calm composure. She nodded slowly, processing the offer. ¡°I appreciate the trust,¡± she said finally. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡± ¡°I know you will,¡± I said, offering her a small smile. ¡°You¡¯ve already done more than enough to prove yourself.¡± She didn¡¯t smile back, but there was a warmth in her eyes that hadn¡¯t been there before. It was enough for me. Next, I sought out Leon. He was overseeing a group of recruits sparring with wooden swords, his sharp voice cutting through the noise of their clashing. When he saw me approaching, he waved the men off for a moment, stepping away to meet me. ¡°What¡¯s up, boss?¡± he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. ¡°Leon, you¡¯ve been doing good work with the infantry,¡± I said, keeping my voice steady. ¡°The men respect you, and that¡¯s something we need right now.¡± He shrugged modestly. ¡°Just doing my part.¡± ¡°I¡¯m making you the temporary officer for the infantry,¡± I said bluntly, watching his reaction. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, I thought he might protest. ¡°Temporary?¡± he asked, a small grin forming on his lips. ¡°For now,¡± I clarified. ¡°Until you prove you can handle the responsibility. But with a pay raise, of course.¡± He laughed, a sound that cut through the tension like a knife. ¡°Hell, I¡¯ll take it! Temporary or not, I¡¯ll make sure these guys don¡¯t embarrass you.¡± I clapped him on the shoulder, relieved to see him so enthusiastic about the promotion. ¡°I know you will, Leon. Just make sure you keep them in line.¡± As I walked away, leaving Leon to return to his drills, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of pride. My party was growing stronger, not just in numbers but in unity. We were no longer a ragtag group of mercenaries¡ªwe were becoming something more. A real force. The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. The recruits were pushed to their limits in the sweltering heat, but they didn¡¯t complain. Every swing of the sword, every shield raised, every bolt fired was a step toward making us stronger. And now that Silvana and Leon had taken up their roles, I felt more confident in our ability to face whatever came next. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the training field, I gathered the recruits for one final briefing. Their faces were tired, some bruised and battered from the day¡¯s training, but there was a fire in their eyes that hadn¡¯t been there before. They were ready. We were ready. ¡°We¡¯ve got eight days to make sure we¡¯re at our best,¡± I said, my voice carrying across the field. ¡°Today was just the beginning. Tomorrow, we push harder. We¡¯re not just training to survive¡ªwe¡¯re training to win.¡± There were nods of agreement and a few scattered cheers. I dismissed them for the evening, knowing they¡¯d earned their rest. As they trudged back to camp, I lingered behind, watching the last light of the day fade into darkness. I had eight days to make this group into something formidable. Eight days to prove that I could lead them into battle and bring them out the other side alive. While I was lost in my thoughts, Silvana approached me, her expression serious. As she was currently acting as the quartermaster, I knew her visit could only mean one thing¡ªinventory and supply updates. ¡°Augustus,¡± she began, her tone heavy with concern, ¡°we''re running low on supplies and denars. If we don¡¯t do something soon, we won¡¯t be able to pay the recruits.¡± I had anticipated this. After spending fourteen thousand denars on equipment and gear, it was only a matter of time before the lack of funds caught up to us. I sighed, nodding as she confirmed what I already knew. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that since yesterday,¡± I admitted. ¡°We¡¯re strapped for cash, and our supplies won¡¯t last more than a week. But with Sora covering the food and accommodations, for now, we have some breathing room.¡± Silvana¡¯s brow furrowed, waiting for my solution. ¡°I¡¯ve decided to talk to the troops tomorrow,¡± I continued. ¡°I¡¯ll explain the situation¡ªbe honest with them. I¡¯ll tell them there might be a delay in their pay but promise them they¡¯ll receive triple the amount they¡¯re owed once we are done with the assignment.¡± Silvana nodded slowly, considering my plan. ¡°That might work,¡± she said, ¡°but they¡¯ll need to hear it from you directly. Your word means a lot to them.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll give the speech tomorrow,¡± I reassured her. ¡°We¡¯ll make it through this.¡± 34. First Skill The following morning, the camp was quieter than usual. There was a subtle tension in the air, something only a leader might feel when addressing a group about something difficult but necessary. I could feel the weight of my upcoming speech as I made my way through the camp, my footsteps heavy, my mind racing. I had spent all night thinking about what I was going to say and how I could convince them that this delay in payment was for the best. The recruits were already gathered in the training field, their murmurs quieting when they saw me approaching. I glanced over at Silvana, who gave me a nod of encouragement. She knew how hard this would be, but she trusted that I could get through to them. I took a deep breath and stepped forward, feeling the eyes of my troops on me. ¡°Everyone,¡± I began, my voice steady but not without a touch of unease. ¡°I know many of you are wondering why I''ve gathered you all here. It''s about something important, and it concerns each and every one of you.¡± I could see their faces turning from curiosity to concern, so I wasted no time in getting to the point. ¡°For the past few days, you¡¯ve been working hard, training harder than most. But we all know this kind of preparation doesn¡¯t come cheap. And with the funds we''ve spent on equipping everyone with better armor and weapons, our resources are running low.¡± I paused, letting that sink in. I could see a few worried expressions among the recruits, some looking at each other, wondering what was coming next. ¡°I want to be honest with you,¡± I continued, raising my voice just a little to ensure everyone could hear. ¡°For the next few days, I won''t be able to pay your daily wages. We¡¯re stretched thin. But I want you to know that I care about every one of you. I refuse to compromise on your safety. That¡¯s why we made sure everyone has the best gear we could provide¡ªso that when the time comes, we¡¯re all as ready as we can be.¡± The tension in the air thickened. I could sense their doubts creeping in, but I wasn¡¯t finished. ¡°In return for your patience, I promise that each of you will receive triple the amount you¡¯re owed once we complete our next contract. This isn¡¯t just about money. It¡¯s about ensuring that we come back alive and that we face as few casualties as possible. I could have kept paying you and left you to fight with the gear you had before¡ªbut that would have meant more of us wouldn¡¯t make it through. I couldn¡¯t live with that.¡± A murmur spread through the crowd, and I could see some heads nodding. Slowly, they were starting to understand. I glanced at Silvana, who gave me a slight smile of approval. ¡°Additionally,¡± I added, ¡°I¡¯ve worked with Sora to develop welfare programs for all of you. We want to ensure that if something does happen, your families won¡¯t be left empty-handed. You¡¯ve heard me speak about this before, and now, I¡¯m making it a reality. Your sacrifice today will pay off in the long run.¡± There was a moment of silence. I could feel their eyes on me, weighing my words. Then, to my relief, a few of them started nodding. One of the recruits, Leon, stepped forward. ¡°We trust you, Augustus,¡± he said firmly. ¡°You¡¯ve led us well so far, and we can see that you¡¯re doing this for us, not for yourself.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. A chorus of agreements followed. I exhaled, relieved beyond words. They accepted it. Happily, even. The weight on my shoulders lightened, but I knew the real test was still ahead. To be honest, I expected a little retaliation from them but everything went so well it was probably because of the welfare programs, the promise to pay them three times what they were owed or they were happy with the new equipment that they received knowing fully well they will never be able to afford it. Whatever it was it made my life easy. // The days that followed were filled with rigorous training. While the recruits worked with their respective weapons, I focused on mastering my own skills. My one-handed sword had always been my weapon of choice, but I knew that versatility could mean the difference between life and death. I spent hours working with polearms, feeling the weight and balance of the spear as I thrust it through the air, imagining enemies on the battlefield. The motion felt foreign at first, but slowly, my body adapted. Two-handed swords came next¡ªheavier, requiring more control. Each swing tested my endurance, but I could feel the raw power behind the blade. And finally, I trained with javelins, perfecting my aim and learning the subtleties of throwing weapons. My arms ached from the strain, but it was a good pain, a reminder that I was growing stronger. As the days passed, I couldn¡¯t help but notice the improvement in my recruits. They were getting faster, and more precise with their movements. Silvana¡¯s leadership of the crossbow unit was already making a difference¡ªher sharpshooters were becoming a formidable force. Leon, too, proved himself to be a natural leader, commanding the infantry with the ease of someone born for the role. It wasn¡¯t just about skill anymore. I could see it in their eyes¡ªtheir confidence was growing. I felt proud, knowing that we were becoming something more than just a ragtag group of mercenaries. We were becoming a unit, a force to be reckoned with. With only two days left before our encounter with the bandits, something strange happened during my training. I was in the middle of practicing with my one-handed sword, focusing on improving my form, when I suddenly heard that familiar, eerie robotic voice¡ªthe one I hadn¡¯t heard in days. ¡°Your one-handed skill has reached level 5. Please choose one of the following buffs.¡± A translucent screen appeared before me, its glowing text hovering in the air. Shield Bash - Grants you and your troops increased shield health and can add the debuff ¡°Destabilization¡± to enemies for a longer period when you are wielding a shield. Weapon Handling- Grants you and your troops improved weapon handling with one-handed weapons, increasing attack speed and precision. I blinked, taking a step back as the options lingered before me. This wasn¡¯t just any skill upgrade¡ªit could affect not only me but my entire party. My heart raced, excitement and confusion swirling together in my mind. Was this the system giving me another advantage? How many of these choices would I be faced with? I took a deep breath and weighed my options. On the one hand, Shield Bash sounded incredibly useful for defending against large groups of enemies. But Weapon Handling¡­ could make us faster, and deadlier. I thought about the bandits we were about to face¡ªhow well-equipped they were, how experienced. If we were going to win, we needed to strike fast and hard, not just hold out defensively. But at the same time, Shield bash was a skill that was important in the long run. After thinking about it for some time my decision was made. Encylcopedia-3. City, Castles and Villages In Calradia, the structure of its society heavily relies on the balance between villages, castles, and cities. Each of these plays a critical role in the sustenance and protection of the various empires and kingdoms. They form the backbone of the region, providing the essential resources, strategic defense, and political power that maintain the balance of power. The symbiotic relationship between villages, castles, and cities is crucial for the survival of any empire, and understanding this interplay offers insight into the vast complexities of the Calradian way of life. Villages: The Heart of Calradia''s Economy At the core of any empire lies its villages. These small, yet vital settlements, are the backbone of Calradia''s economy. The farmers, cattle raisers, and artisans of the village provide the essential resources required to sustain life in the empire¡¯s more developed parts. Without the produce and labor of these rural areas, no empire could survive. Villages primarily focus on agriculture, with a strong emphasis on grain production. Grains, such as wheat and barley, are the staples of every Calradian''s diet. Fields stretching far beyond the village boundaries provide sustenance, and the successful harvests ensure the survival, from the peasants to the noble lords. Alongside grain, many villagers raise cattle, pigs, goats, and chickens. Livestock is not only a vital source of food but also contributes leather and wool, which serve as important trade goods for cities and other larger settlements. Villages vary greatly in size, typically housing between 50 to 300 inhabitants. However, larger villages could grow to accommodate up to 500 people. The geographic features, climate, and resources of the surrounding area largely dictate the size and prosperity of each village. In fertile areas, villages thrive, supporting blacksmiths, carpenters, and other artisans who provide essential tools and services. These communities are often clustered around a central feature like a manor or a church, a reflection of the village''s collective dependence on both protection and spiritual guidance. Villages may appear simple on the surface, but they are designed with practicality in mind. Houses and workshops are tightly clustered together to maximize the use of arable land and make the village more defensible. Paths and small roads wind between the buildings, providing a sense of closeness that is essential for fostering community ties. Many villages have an unofficial council, typically led by a headman, who oversees day-to-day operations. This figure holds a low noble status and commands respect among the villagers. Depending on the region, the title of the headman varies. In Valandia, they are known as Barons, while in the Aserai lands, they have a different title altogether. The village headman is responsible for collecting taxes, organizing defense in times of danger, and serving as a mediator in disputes. Though the headman¡¯s power is limited compared to higher-ranking nobles, their influence over village life is considerable. Most headmen are chosen from respected families within the village, earning their position through reputation rather than inheritance. In this way, villages maintain a somewhat democratic system, though always subject to the overarching power of the empire or kingdom in which they reside. Castles: Bastions of Power Castles stand as monumental structures that serve as the first line of defense for any empire. Situated strategically on mountain passes, riverbanks, or high ground, these fortresses dominate the landscape and ensure no invaders can easily pass through. Castles are essential for maintaining the stability of the region, as they are tasked with defending both the villagers they protect and the surrounding lands. The governance of castles is entrusted to higher-ranking nobles, often those who have proven their loyalty and military prowess. In the Aserai lands, for instance, these leaders are known as Aghas, a title denoting a noble with the authority to command over 300 troops. This is not a task for the faint-hearted, as the responsibility of guarding a castle also means safeguarding the surrounding villages and controlling the flow of commerce and goods that pass through the region. Inside a castle, life revolves around military discipline. Castles generally house between 200 and 300 soldiers, many of whom live with their families within the walls. Despite being heavily militarized, castles also serve as homes for the families of the garrison. The soldiers and their families rarely leave the safety of the walls, except when trading with villagers or traveling to nearby cities. Villagers, in turn, are not allowed inside castles, but they may trade their goods at the stalls set up outside the gates. These interactions allow the castle to stockpile food, weapons, and other essential goods in case of a siege. Castles are not just military installations¡ªthey also serve as centers of governance and justice. Nobles who govern castles have the authority to pass judgment on low-born individuals, particularly those who commit crimes in the surrounding villages. Castles also have dungeons where criminals are kept before their trials or punishments. Law and order within the castle¡¯s domain are typically strict, as they reflect the will of the noble who governs the stronghold. Another crucial function of castles is their role in commerce. Castles are often bound to two or three villages, and these villages are expected to provide food and other resources to the castle in return for protection. However, castles also have ties with merchants, who buy the produce of these villages and transport it to larger markets. This relationship between the castle and the village not only ensures the survival of the villagers but also strengthens the economy of the entire region. The protection offered by castles allows villagers to live without fear of raiders or invading armies, but it also comes at a cost. The taxes imposed by the castle can be heavy, particularly in times of war. Villagers often find themselves burdened by the demands of their lords, forced to produce more food or goods to meet the needs of the garrison. However, they know that without the castle, their lives would be much more precarious.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Cities: Centers of Wealth and Power Cities in Calradia are the true heart of its empires. These bustling urban centers are much more than just enlarged villages; they are hubs of trade, politics, and culture. Cities originally grew from villages that expanded due to their economic success and strategic importance. They are characterized by their tall walls, which offer protection from invaders, and their diverse populations, which can range from 1,000 to 10,000 inhabitants. A city is often governed by powerful nobles who wield considerable influence over the realm''s politics. In the Khuzait lands, these nobles are called Khans, a title synonymous with authority and power. The presence of a noble family in a city signifies its importance, and their governance is usually tied to a castle and several villages in the surrounding area. Cities are also home to large garrisons, typically consisting of around 600 troops. These soldiers are responsible for maintaining order within the city, protecting its citizens, and defending the walls in the event of an attack. Cities are vital military outposts as well as political centers, and their garrisons often include both infantry and cavalry units. However, cities are not as rigidly militaristic as castles; they have a more diverse populace that includes artisans, merchants, scholars, and even criminals. One of the most important functions of a city is its role in trade. Cities act as industrial hubs, where goods from the surrounding villages and castles are brought for processing and sale. Blacksmiths, carpenters, weavers, and other artisans ply their trade within the city walls, producing everything from weapons to textiles. Merchants buy these goods and sell them both locally and in distant lands, enriching the city¡¯s economy. The bustling marketplace is the heart of any city, where traders from all corners of Calradia come to buy and sell goods. Merchants have extensive connections, and their caravans bring exotic goods from the far reaches of the continent. A well-established city might be home to wealthy merchants who have more influence than some of the lower-ranking nobles. However, cities also harbor a darker side. Criminal organizations like the Hidden Hand operate in the shadows, manipulating trade, politics, and even military affairs. These organizations are a constant threat to the peace and order of the city, and their influence can stretch far beyond the city walls. Noble families must be vigilant, as criminal gangs can undermine their authority and create unrest. Despite these challenges, cities remain the jewels of any empire. They are the economic and cultural centers where innovation thrives, and their walls offer protection not just to their citizens but also to the empire as a whole. In times of war, a city¡¯s survival is often the key to the empire¡¯s stability. Conclusion The interdependence between villages, castles, and cities in Calradia is the foundation upon which empires are built. Villages supply the food and basic resources, castles offer protection and governance, and cities serve as the centers of trade and political power. Without one, the others could not survive, and this delicate balance is what allows the various kingdoms and empires of Calradia to endure in the face of war and conflict. Understanding the role each plays in this grand tapestry reveals the true complexity of life in Calradia, where power, wealth, and survival are constantly intertwined. A table for reference about the names of the heads of the settlements in these kingdoms, Since the protagonist has been mostly traveling in Cities he already met a few governors.
Kingdoms Villages (will be called Elder in most cases) Castles Cities Head of Kingdom
Valandia Baron Earl Duke King
Aserai Kadi Agha Pasha Sultan
Khuzait / Khujait Bagha Noyan Khan Khan of Khans
Sturgia Karl Hersir Jarl(Earl) King
Battania Chieftain Graf(Count) Dux(Duke) Ri (High King)
Western/Soutern Empire Vicarius Magister Militum Governor King/ Queen /Emperor/ Empress
Northern Empire Vicarius Magister Militum Governor Consul
35. Little Secret The cool evening breeze drifted through the cracks of the wooden shutters, brushing against my skin as I made my way to Augustus''s room. Tomorrow, the group Nova would finally fulfill their contract and rid the land of those bandits. The anticipation should have filled me with excitement, but my heart was weighed down with fear. A fear I¡¯d been hiding from Augustus ever since I handed him the contract. I knocked softly, hoping he wasn¡¯t asleep yet. His voice answered from the other side. "Come in." The door creaked open, and there he was, sitting at a wooden desk, eyes scanning over some old maps and notes. He looked tired but focused, clearly preparing for tomorrow¡¯s mission. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, casting shadows across his sharp features in the dim light of the single candle flickering in the corner. "Couldn''t sleep?" he asked without looking up. I shook my head, even though he couldn¡¯t see it. "No... I thought we should talk about tomorrow." I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, the faint scent of parchment and candle wax filling the room. He gestured to the chair opposite him, and I sat down, my heart heavy with the secret I was about to reveal. "We''ve been going over the strategy with the group, but I wanted to hear your thoughts," Augustus said, eyes finally meeting mine. "We''re planning to ambush the bandits at night, catching them off-guard while they¡¯re asleep. It''ll minimize casualties and give us the upper hand. What do you think?" His words were steady and practical, but I could feel the weight of my emotions pressing harder against my chest, threatening to spill over. I nodded slowly, trying to keep my voice level. "Yes... an ambush seems like the best option," I replied, though my thoughts were far from military tactics. I watched him lean back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders seeming to ease as we talked. His confidence in handling the mission made me feel more at ease, but I knew I couldn¡¯t keep this secret any longer. I swallowed hard, my hands trembling slightly in my lap. "Augustus," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, "there''s something you should know." His brow furrowed as he leaned forward, sensing the shift in my tone. "What is it?" The tears I''d been holding back for so long began to sting at the corners of my eyes. I had never allowed myself to be vulnerable like this before, but now, sitting across from him, I could no longer keep the truth hidden. "Those bandits... they¡¯re not just any random group of criminals." My voice cracked, and I struggled to hold back the tears. "They were sent to kidnap me. By my family." He looked at me, confused for a moment before the gravity of my words sank in. The silence between us grew thick and heavy. "My family... they want me back. And if you kill them, if we kill them... you''ll be making powerful enemies." The words tumbled out of my mouth, and the weight of the truth finally released, though it didn¡¯t make me feel any lighter. Augustus stared at me, processing everything I had just said. He wasn¡¯t one to react impulsively; he always took his time, thinking things through before making a decision. I could see his mind working, considering the implications of what I had revealed. But the silence was suffocating.Stolen novel; please report. "Why didn¡¯t you tell me this earlier?" he finally asked, his voice calm but laced with concern. "I... I was scared," I admitted, tears slipping down my cheeks despite my best efforts to hold them back. "I didn¡¯t want to put you in a position where you''d have to choose between protecting me or protecting your group." He stood up from the desk and walked over to me, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. "Sora," he said softly, "you''re part of this group too. You have already helped us I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a way I could repay you for what you have done. But you should have told me." I wiped my eyes, ashamed of my tears. "I was afraid you¡¯d abandon the mission. That you¡¯d see me as a liability." Augustus chuckled softly, surprising me. He knelt beside me, his face close to mine, and there was a warmth in his gaze that made my chest tighten. "Sora, I don¡¯t see any problems with it. I don¡¯t think making them my enemies is an issue." He paused for a moment, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "In fact, in return for your help, I¡¯ll even capture Epicrotea and make you the governor there." I stared at him, wide-eyed, unsure if he was serious. He laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the small room and, for the first time that evening, made me feel a little lighter. Even though it was a joke, his words lifted a weight off my shoulders. "You¡¯d go to war with my family?" I asked, still in disbelief. Augustus stood up and sat on the bed beside me. "Why not? After everything you''ve done for me and Nova, I owe you that much. Besides, I''m not exactly the type to shy away from a challenge." I smiled weakly, the tears finally stopping. "Thank you. But... there¡¯s more." My voice faltered again, but this time I felt a little braver, knowing Augustus was on my side. "I have one more contract for you after your mission is over there is a chance my family will send a bigger force to get me. I am thinking about escaping to Asera and f i If we go through with this, you won¡¯t be able to collect the bounty. Our priority will be to delay the knowledge about their failure and If my mother finds out, that you killed them it will cause too many problems. I¡¯m sorry..." He shrugged as if it were no big deal. "We¡¯re mercenaries, Sora. We don¡¯t say no to a deal, but we also don¡¯t need the bounty. The important thing is... it gives me more time to spend with you." I felt my heart flutter at his words. Our bodies were close now, and the air between us was charged with something unspoken. His eyes held mine, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away. We were just two individuals, sharing a quiet moment amid the chaos of our lives. Before I could respond, Augustus reached out and gently wiped a tear from my cheek. His touch was warm, and I found myself leaning into it, craving the comfort he offered. Our faces were inches apart now, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. He smiled, his hand still resting on my cheek. "You don¡¯t have to thank me." But I did. Augustus had been a constant source of strength for me since we met, and tonight was no different. His calm, steady presence made me feel safe, even in the face of the looming danger. The moment hung between us, heavy and charged with emotions I hadn¡¯t let myself fully process until now. My heart raced, and before I could think twice, I leaned in, closing the distance between us. His lips met mine, soft and warm, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly at peace. The kiss deepened, our bodies pressing against each other as the tension that had been building between us finally broke. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I melted into him, letting the stress of the past few days slip away. Our breaths mingled as we broke the kiss, resting our foreheads against each other. The room was silent, save for the sound of our breathing, and at that moment, I knew I wasn¡¯t alone anymore. Augustus was here, and he wasn¡¯t going to abandon me, no matter what challenges lay ahead. "Stay with me tonight," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. I nodded, unable to speak, my heart too full. 36. Little Secret II As the sun began to sink below the horizon, the dull thud of training weapons echoed through the camp. The cool evening air was a welcome change from the stifling heat of the day, and I leaned back against the wooden wall of my quarters, letting the breeze cool my sweat-drenched skin. Training had been intense, but rewarding. My one-handed skill had grown, and now, the system had given me options I needed to weigh carefully. A small screen hovered before my eyes, its text glowing faintly in the dim light of the room. I read through the two options: Shield Bash and Weapon Handling. Both seemed beneficial, but I needed to think strategically. My troops used spears, which were considered polearm weapons, not one-handed. So even though I preferred using one-handed weapons in combat, my men wouldn¡¯t benefit from that unless I specifically trained them in swordsmanship or axes. For Weapon Handling, the benefit was clear¡ªit would improve the ease and control of any one-handed weapon, making strikes faster and more accurate. But that didn¡¯t help me or my troops if we were mainly using spears. Then there was Shield Bash, a skill that would improve both shield durability and grant a debuff called "destabilization" when I or my men bashed an enemy with a shield. What struck me about this option was its versatility. It wasn¡¯t tied to just one weapon type. Whether I was using a one-handed sword, a spear, or even javelins, I could still carry a shield. Shields were an essential part of my strategy¡ªproviding defense against ranged attacks and creating openings in close combat. After thinking it through, I knew Shield Bash was the better option. It wasn¡¯t just about my combat prowess but about what would benefit the entire group. I selected the skill, and the system chimed in my head with a soft confirmation. But it didn¡¯t stop there. Another window popped up, and this time it was for my athletics. Reaching level five had unlocked two more choices. Morning Exercise - Increased movement speed for you and your troops when not on horseback. Well Built - Decreases chances of mortal wounds when a troop is injured. The choices were harder this time. Movement speed could be crucial in certain situations¡ªwhether we were retreating or trying to outmaneuver an enemy. But I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that Well Built was the better option. It wasn¡¯t just about speed; it was about survival. I needed my troops to survive, to hold the line in the face of overwhelming odds, to keep fighting even when the battle grew desperate. In a world like this, where death could come swiftly and unexpectedly, Well Built gave me the peace of mind that if my troops were hurt, they wouldn¡¯t die as easily. I selected it without hesitation. The system quietly acknowledged my choice, and the screen faded from view. I exhaled, feeling a little lighter now that those decisions had been made. The camp was quieting down as night crept closer, but my mind was still buzzing. Tomorrow, we would ambush the bandits¡ªjust like the one we had pulled off near Zeonica. Quick, brutal, and efficient. I could feel the weight of responsibility resting on my shoulders, knowing that how I executed the ambush would directly affect whether we lived or died. I began mentally mapping out the plan, going over every detail in my head. We¡¯d approach under the cover of darkness, surround the camp, and strike when they least expected it. Timing would be everything, but I was confident. We had the advantage in numbers, and now, with the new gear, we were better equipped than we had ever been before. As I was deep in thought, a sudden knock on the door snapped me out of my focus.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Come in," I called, assuming it was one of the recruits. The door creaked open, and to my surprise, it wasn¡¯t a recruit¡ªit was Sora. She stepped into the room, her usual cryptic smile replaced with something more serious. She closed the door behind her, and the air in the room seemed to grow heavier. "Sora," I said, straightening up. "What brings you here?" She walked toward me slowly, her eyes scanning the room before finally settling on me. "I wanted to talk to you... about tomorrow," she said, her voice low. I gestured to the chair across from me. "Take a seat. What¡¯s on your mind?" She sat down, folding her hands in her lap. For a moment, she didn¡¯t say anything, and I could see the tension in her face. Sora was always composed and always in control, but tonight, something was different. "I¡¯ve been thinking about the ambush," she started. "It¡¯s a good plan, Augustus. But there¡¯s something you need to know." I raised an eyebrow. "Go on." She hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her tunic. "Those bandits... they weren¡¯t just sent by some random group. They were sent to kidnap me. By my family." The weight of her words sank in, and I felt a chill run down my spine. "Your family?" I asked, unsure of where this was going. Sora nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "They want me back. And if you kill them tomorrow, you¡¯ll be making powerful enemies." I leaned back in my chair, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. This was a lot to take in. Sora had always been mysterious about her past, but now I understood why. Her family wasn¡¯t just some minor noble house¡ªthey had power, influence, and the means to make life very difficult for anyone who crossed them. "So... what are you saying? You want me to call off the ambush?" I asked, my voice steady but firm. She shook her head quickly, a few tears escaping down her cheeks. "No... I¡¯m not asking that. I just... I needed you to know what you¡¯re getting into. If you kill them, it¡¯s not just the bandits you¡¯re fighting. It¡¯s my family. And they won¡¯t forgive you for that." I stared at her for a long moment, letting the gravity of the situation settle over me. Part of me wanted to be cautious and to weigh the risks carefully before deciding. But another part of me¡ªthe part that had fought bandits and poachers, that had faced danger head-on¡ªknew that I couldn¡¯t back down now. "Sora," I said quietly, leaning forward. "I don¡¯t see any problem with making your family my enemies." She looked up at me, her tear-filled eyes widening in surprise. "You... you don¡¯t?" I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "If it comes to it, I¡¯ll capture Epicrotea myself and make you the governor there." She let out a small, shaky laugh, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "You¡¯re insane." "Maybe. But I¡¯m serious," I said, standing up and walking over to her. "You¡¯ve helped me a lot, Sora. And in return, I¡¯m going to help you. No matter what happens with your family." She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as the tension seemed to lift. "Thank you, Augustus. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you." I reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You¡¯re not alone in this. We¡¯ll get through it together." She looked up at me, her eyes full of gratitude and something else I couldn¡¯t quite place. "There¡¯s one more thing," she said softly. I nodded, urging her to continue. "After this... after the bandits are gone, I want to leave the Empire," she said. "I want to go to Aserai. Will you come with me?" Her words took me by surprise, but I didn¡¯t hesitate. "Of course. If that¡¯s where you want to go, I¡¯ll go with you." A small smile played at the corners of her lips, and for the first time that night, she looked genuinely relieved. "Thank you." But then her smile faded slightly, and she looked away. "There¡¯s one more thing. You won¡¯t be able to collect the bounty on those bandits. If my mother finds out, it¡¯ll cause too many problems." I shrugged. "That¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t need the bounty. We¡¯re mercenaries, but we can afford to let this one go. Besides, it gives me more time to spend with you." Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, the tension between us shifted into something else. Something deeper. Our bodies were close now, and the air between us seemed to thicken with unspoken emotions. 37. RiverSide Morning broke with a crisp chill in the air, the kind that crept into your bones no matter how thick your cloak was. The camp buzzed with quiet energy as my men readied themselves for the day¡¯s mission. The fresh scent of damp earth filled the air, mingling with the clinking of steel and the muted sound of leather being buckled. The men moved with purpose, their freshly purchased garrison armor gleaming in the pale light. We looked more like professional soldiers than a ragtag group of mercenaries now. I had been fortunate over the past few days. The garrison soldier I had befriended during training had lent me a spare set of armor and a sturdy shield. The armor was a little snug, but I appreciated the weight of the metal resting against my shoulders¡ªit gave me a sense of security. As I fastened the final strap and picked up my borrowed shield, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a certain calm wash over me. We were ready, and tonight, we would put an end to those bandits. The bandits that Sora had warned me about. I glanced at her from across the camp, her expression unreadable, but her eyes met mine briefly, and she gave me a nod. We both knew what was at stake. The one thing that still gnawed at me was Garios. We had been in this city for days, yet he had deliberately avoided any contact with us. Through whispers and messengers, he had made it clear that he didn¡¯t want to be directly associated with our group, likely for political reasons. It didn¡¯t bother me too much; in fact, it made sense. Still, Garios made sure we got what we needed. The information about the bandits¡¯ location had come to us discreetly. They were camped near a river, about a mile north of our current location. The riverbank was an ideal spot for them, providing a natural barrier on one side. The river was wide¡ªat least forty meters¡ªand the currents were strong enough that an escape via water was highly unlikely. That gave us an advantage. I called the men to attention, and Silvana, now leading the crossbow unit, marched up to me with Leon, who was temporarily serving as the infantry commander. I could see the tension in their eyes, but they were focused. We gathered around a rough map of the area I had sketched out in the dirt the night before. "The plan¡¯s simple," I began. "We¡¯ll scout the terrain during the day to get a feel for the surroundings. At night, we¡¯ll make our move. The river cuts off their escape, so we¡¯ll circle and hit them from the other side. Silvana, your crossbowmen will start the attack. Once they¡¯ve been hit with the first volley, Leon and the infantry will charge in with javelins, followed by spear combat. The key is to maintain formation and strike quickly before they have time to react." The men listened intently. I could feel the weight of their anticipation. They knew this wouldn¡¯t be easy, but they were eager to prove themselves. I saw the same look on Silvana¡¯s face that I¡¯d seen countless times on gamers back on Earth¡ªthe thirst for a challenge. After our briefing, we gathered our supplies and set out toward the bandits¡¯ camp. The journey was uneventful, but the tension was palpable. The crunch of boots on gravel, the clinking of gear, and the occasional bird call were the only sounds that accompanied us as we moved through the forest. The terrain gradually sloped downward as we neared the river. When we reached the high ground overlooking the riverbank, we stopped. The river, just as described, was a wide, fast-flowing body of water, its surface glistening under the midday sun. The bandits¡¯ camp was nestled close to the water¡¯s edge, a small cluster of tents and a few makeshift wooden structures. They had chosen this spot well. The river protected their flank, and they were far enough from any major road that they wouldn¡¯t be easily spotted. We watched them from our vantage point for a while, observing their movements. There were ten of them, just as Garios had informed us, all seasoned fighters. They moved with the confidence of men who had survived countless skirmishes and raids. Their leader was a burly man with a thick beard, sitting by the fire sharpening his sword. He looked like he¡¯d been through a lifetime of violence. As we returned to our camp to prepare for the night attack, I went over the plan in my head again and again. Everything needed to go smoothly. I couldn''t afford mistakes. The night fell swiftly, and with it came the silence of the forest. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a dim silver glow over the landscape. We moved in total darkness, creeping through the underbrush as silently as possible. I could hear the faint rustling of leaves underfoot, but other than that, it was eerily quiet.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Once we reached our positions, I gave the signal for Silvana and her crossbowmen to aim. The bandits were relaxed by their campfire, unaware of the death creeping upon them. I held up my hand, waiting for the perfect moment. The seconds stretched on, each one heavy with the weight of what was about to happen. Then, I dropped my hand. The twang of crossbow strings filled the air, followed by the sickening thud of bolts finding their marks. Two bandits fell immediately, bolts piercing their necks and chests. The others scrambled to their feet in confusion, reaching for their weapons, but we were already on them. "Now!" I shouted, lowering my hand, and Leon¡¯s infantry surged forward. The recruits launched their javelins with precision, the spears cutting through the air like deadly missiles. Several bandits were hit before they could even reach for their weapons. I saw one javelin pierce a man through the shoulder, knocking him backward into the fire, his screams filling the night. We moved in quickly, shields up, spears bristling in a tight formation. I barely had time to register the chaos around me as we advanced. The key to this fight was staying together¡ªno breaking ranks. One of the bandits charged toward us, axe raised high, but before he could close the distance, one of my men thrust his spear forward, catching the bandit in the stomach. The man doubled over, blood pouring from the wound, and fell to the ground. Another bandit swung wildly at Leon with a club, but Leon deflected the blow with his shield, driving his spear into the man¡¯s thigh. The bandit crumpled to the ground, clutching his leg in agony. I moved in formation with my men. That was the plan¡ªlet the formation and our numbers do the work. I slammed my shield into the nearest bandit, feeling the impact reverberate through my arm as he stumbled backward, giving me just enough time to thrust my spear into his abdomen. He gasped, blood bubbling from his mouth, and collapsed. I caught sight of Silvana¡¯s crossbowmen reloading, their eyes sharp as they picked off any bandits trying to retreat toward the river. It was a slaughter. But amidst the chaos, Our formation was broken due to lack of experience and I saw something that made my blood run cold. One of my recruits¡ªTimothy¡ªwas locked in combat with a particularly large bandit wielding a two-handed axe. Timothy was holding his own, parrying the blows with his shield, but the bandit was relentless. With a savage swing, the bandit¡¯s axe caught the edge of Timothy¡¯s shield, splintering it and sending him staggering backward. Before I could reach him, the bandit swung again, and this time, the axe found flesh. Timothy¡¯s scream tore through the night as the blade bit deep into his arm, severing it clean off. He collapsed to the ground, blood pouring from the stump where his arm had been. "Timothy!" I shouted, but there was no time to mourn. Luckily some recruits saved Timothy from that brute. I rushed to Timothy¡¯s side, pulling a strip of cloth from my tunic and tying it tightly around his arm to stop the bleeding. His face was pale, and his breaths were shallow, but he was alive¡ªfor now. "Hold on," I muttered, barely able to hear my voice over the sound of battle. Just as I finished tying the bandage, another shout drew my attention. One of my recruits, Jared, had been cornered by two bandits. He was holding his spear defensively, but he was outnumbered and overwhelmed. One of the bandits lunged at him with a short sword, and though Jared managed to block the strike with his spear, the second bandit slipped past his guard, slashing at his leg. Jared screamed as the blade cut deep into his calf, and he fell to the ground, clutching the wound. The bandits moved in for the kill, but before they could land the final blow, Leon and another recruit charged in, spears raised. Leon¡¯s spear found its mark, piercing one of the bandits through the chest, while the other recruit drove his weapon into the second bandit¡¯s side. The bandits collapsed, and Leon knelt beside Jared, checking his wound. "He¡¯ll live," Leon called out to me, though his expression was grim. I breathed a sigh of relief, but the battle was still raging. Despite our overwhelming numbers, the bandits fought like cornered animals, desperate and savage. One by one, we picked them off, the clashing of steel and the shouts of men echoing through the night. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last of the bandits fell. The camp was eerily silent now, save for the crackling of the fire and the labored breathing of my men. The ground was slick with blood, both bandit and soldier alike. I stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, surveying the aftermath. We had won but at a cost. Timothy lay unconscious, his arm severed, but the bleeding had stopped for now. Jared was being tended to by Leon, his leg wound was serious but not fatal. I walked over to Silvana, who was gathering her crossbowmen. Her face was pale, but she gave me a small nod. "It¡¯s over," she said quietly. "Yeah," I replied, though the weight of the victory felt heavier than I had anticipated. We had succeeded in our mission, but the cost of war was never easy to bear. As I looked at the wounded and the dead, I realized just how far we had to go before we were truly ready for the challenges ahead. But for now, we had survived, and that was enough. 38. To Aserai The sun was beginning to rise, casting a faint golden hue across the landscape as I sat by the campfire, lost in thought. The aftermath of the battle still weighed heavily on my mind. We had won, but it came at a cost¡ªtwo of my men were severely injured. The sight of Timothy¡¯s severed arm and Jared¡¯s pale face haunted me. These weren¡¯t just nameless recruits; they were men I had fought alongside, men I was responsible for. I glanced over at Silvana, who was sitting across from me, her brow furrowed in concentration as she checked over our supplies. She¡¯d been handling the logistics while I focused on the fight, and for that, I was grateful. I had a lot on my mind, but the weight of responsibility was something we shared. ¡°We need to get back to the city,¡± I said, breaking the silence. ¡°We¡¯ll fetch Sora and gather the supplies we discussed. We¡¯ll also need to buy a few carts to transport the wounded.¡± Silvana looked up at me, nodding. ¡°Agreed. We can¡¯t keep them out here like this, and it¡¯s risky to send them back to the city. If anyone connects our men¡¯s injuries to the bandits¡¯ deaths, we¡¯ll have bigger problems.¡± I stood up, stretching my sore muscles. ¡°Let¡¯s move quickly. We¡¯ll leave half the troops here with Leon to bury the bodies and stay out of sight. You and I will head to the city, get what we need, and come back as soon as possible.¡± Silvana rose to her feet, wiping her hands on her tunic. ¡°I¡¯ll get everything ready. Meet me at the edge of camp when you¡¯re set.¡± I gave a curt nod and walked away to inform Leon of our plan. He was already organizing the remaining recruits to start digging the graves for the bandits. I could see the fatigue on his face, but his resolve hadn¡¯t wavered. ¡°Leon, Silvana, and I are heading to the city to fetch Sora and supplies. I need you to stay here with the rest of the men, bury the bodies, and make sure no trace of our presence is left behind.¡± He nodded, his jaw tight. ¡°Understood. We¡¯ll take care of things here.¡± ¡°Good. I¡¯ll be back as soon as I can.¡± The journey to the city was quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts. As we moved, I found myself reflecting on the battle, on the decisions I had made. Had I done everything I could to protect my men? Could I have prevented those injuries or even the death of one of them? ¡°You did what you had to,¡± Silvana said suddenly as if sensing my thoughts. I glanced at her, surprised. ¡°What do you mean?¡± She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. ¡°You made the right call. In battle, there are always risks, but we came out on top. You can¡¯t blame yourself for everything.¡± I nodded, though her words did little to ease the knot in my stomach. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I feel like I¡¯m responsible for them. If I had made a different plan, maybe things would have turned out better.¡± Silvana was silent for a moment, then sighed. ¡°You¡¯re doing your best, Augustus. That¡¯s all anyone can ask for.¡± I didn¡¯t respond, letting the silence stretch between us. The city walls were coming into view, tall and imposing against the morning sky. As we approached the gates, we were stopped by a couple of guards. I showed them the letter from Garios that had granted us access before, and after a brief inspection, they waved us through. The city was eerily quiet, much like it had been during my last visit. Most of the shops were still closed, and the streets were nearly empty, save for a few garrison troops patrolling here and there. Silvana and I made our way toward the governor¡¯s palace, but before heading inside, we decided to take care of the more urgent matters first. ¡°We need to buy some carts for the wounded,¡± I said. ¡°And we¡¯ll need a doctor to come with us. Let¡¯s split up and handle that.¡± Silvana nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of the carts. You find a doctor.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! We parted ways, and I set off toward the lower part of the city where I knew a discreet doctor operated. The clinic wasn¡¯t much to look at¡ªjust a small, nondescript building tucked between two larger structures¡ªbut the healer was skilled, and more importantly, he didn¡¯t ask questions. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of herbs and ointments, a sharp contrast to the stench of blood and death that still clung to me from the battlefield. The doctor, a wiry man with graying hair, looked up from his work as I entered. ¡°I need your help,¡± I said without preamble. ¡°I have two wounded men outside the city, and they need medical attention. I can pay.¡± He raised an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a cloth. ¡°How badly are they hurt?¡± ¡°One¡¯s lost an arm. The other¡¯s got a deep wound in his leg. They¡¯ll survive, but only if they get treated soon.¡± The doctor nodded slowly. ¡°I¡¯ll need to gather supplies. Meet me outside the city gates in an hour.¡± I thanked him and left the clinic, feeling a small weight lift from my shoulders. At least now my men had a chance. As I made my way back through the city, I spotted Silvana at the marketplace, haggling with a merchant over the price of the carts. I joined her just in time to see the merchant give in with a sigh and lower his price. ¡°Got the carts?¡± I asked as I approached. ¡°Two of them,¡± Silvana replied, looking satisfied. ¡°Enough to carry the wounded and the supplies.¡± ¡°Good. I found a doctor. He¡¯ll meet us at the gates with everything we need.¡± Together, we gathered the necessary supplies¡ªfood, water, and medical items¡ªand loaded them onto the carts. As we finished, I glanced toward the palace. ¡°Let¡¯s go get Sora and finish this.¡± --- We found Sora waiting outside the governor¡¯s palace, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. She spotted us as we approached and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Took you long enough,¡± she said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes. ¡°We had to gather supplies. We¡¯re heading back to the camp now. Everything¡¯s ready.¡± She nodded, her face serious again. ¡°Good. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± We left the city quickly, avoiding any unnecessary attention, and made our way back to the riverside where Leon and the others were waiting. The carts, supplies, and mules rattled behind us, and the doctor moved alongside, his face drawn with concern. I could only hope he was as skilled as his reputation claimed. When we arrived at the camp, Leon had already finished burying the bodies, and the site looked clean¡ªno signs of the battle remained. The men greeted us as we approached, and I could see the relief on their faces when they spotted the doctor. ¡°Get them treated,¡± I instructed the doctor, gesturing toward Timothy and Jared, who were still lying there. ¡°Do whatever you can.¡± The doctor nodded and got to work immediately, setting up his tools and tending to the wounded. Silvana organized the men, distributing the food and supplies we had brought back from the city. The mood was tense but hopeful. We had made it this far, and now we just needed to see it through. Sora approached me as I stood watching the doctor work, her expression thoughtful. ¡°You¡¯ve done well, Augustus,¡± she said quietly. I looked at her, surprised by the compliment. ¡°Thanks. But we¡¯re not done yet.¡± She nodded, glancing toward the river. ¡°No, we¡¯re not. But I have a feeling you¡¯ll see this through.¡± There was something in her tone that made me pause, but before I could respond, Leon called out to me. ¡°The doctor says Jared¡¯s stable, but Timothy¡­ it¡¯s bad.¡± I walked over to the cart, where the doctor was kneeling beside Timothy. His face was pale, and the bandage around his arm was soaked through with blood. ¡°We¡¯ve stopped the bleeding, but he¡¯s lost too much blood,¡± the doctor said grimly. ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can, but it¡¯s not looking good.¡± I nodded, my throat tight. ¡°Do your best.¡± As I turned away, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Timothy was just one man, but he was my responsibility, and I had failed him. Silvana appeared beside me, her expression soft. ¡°You did everything you could, Augustus.¡± I didn¡¯t respond, the guilt gnawing at me. The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity. The doctor worked tirelessly to stabilize Timothy and Jared, while the rest of us prepared for the journey ahead. We would be heading to the Aserai lands soon, leaving behind the Empire and all its dangers. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the camp, I sat down by the fire, exhausted but determined. The mission wasn¡¯t over yet, but we were close. Soon, we would be out of the Empire¡¯s reach, free to start fresh in a new land. And for the first time in days, I allowed myself to feel a flicker of hope. Encyclopedia-4- Aserai - The Land of Prosperity The southern kingdom, often referred to by its citizens as ¡°The Land of Prosperity,¡± holds its identity in the strength of its caravans and the golden sands and ancient cities that echo a legacy of trade and wealth. With a heritage tracing back to the times of the great Banu Aserai clan, these lands have long been a melting pot of culture and commerce. Known to others simply as the Aserai, this kingdom¡¯s heart, and lifeblood is trade, and its people, above all, are merchants. The cities within Aserai lands were not always united; in fact, they were once a network of competing city-states, each with its own clan, merchants, and guilds vying for a larger share of the rich trade routes snaking through the land. Yet, over time, the Banu Aserai rose to prominence, and under their unifying banner, the Aserai kingdom was forged. At the helm of this mercantile powerhouse is Sultan Unqid, a ruler who represents the kingdom¡¯s balance between profit and politics. Though he is the kingdom¡¯s nominal leader, his control is fragile at best. Aserai lords, primarily merchant princes and wealthy traders, act with as much autonomy as possible. With their eyes set on wealth accumulation, they often prioritize their interests over any sense of national unity. This disunity frequently challenges Sultan Unqid¡¯s authority, creating a delicate political landscape where alliances are as changeable as the winds across the desert sands. In times of peace, many Aserai lords have little need to acknowledge their sultan¡¯s authority, and alliances are quickly forgotten when profits and personal ambitions come into play. The same lords, however, frequently call for Sultan Unqid¡¯s protection or influence when their cities face immediate threats, such as raids or besiegement, making for a strained relationship between the crown and its nobles. Despite their differences, one point of mutual interest for all Aserai leaders is the bustling trade network that defines the kingdom. Known across the world for the riches of their spice markets, the Aserai merchants have mastered the art of commerce, bringing exotic goods from distant lands. Caravans laden with spices, silks, and unique artifacts move through Aserai lands and onto the docks of their coastal cities, from where they are shipped to distant realms. This lucrative trade, however, brings with it the constant threat of piracy. With the Valandians often lurking along their maritime routes, Aserai vessels are prime targets. To protect their fleets and ensure the safety of their cargo, the Aserai kingdom has developed a formidable navy. The Aserai sailors are adept in the defense of their merchant vessels, skilled not only in the art of navigation but also in naval combat, and their sleek ships are equipped for both speed and resilience. Their navy stands as one of the most crucial defenses of their trade interests. While the navy plays a key role in securing their waters, the kingdom¡¯s reluctance to maintain a large standing army has led to a reliance on mercenaries and the famed Jawwal riders. Jawwal riders are desert warriors skilled in mounted combat, typically armed with a dozen javelins and mounted on swift camels that are ideal for traversing the harsh desert landscapes of the Aserai territories. These riders form the backbone of the Aserai¡¯s land-based defenses, patrolling the borders and repelling raids with lethal accuracy. Alongside these camel riders, the Aserai frequently hire foreign mercenaries to bolster their ranks during wartime. Sturgian and Imperial mercenaries are often employed for their prowess and loyalty to gold. However, Valandian mercenaries, while skilled, find it challenging to secure Aserai contracts, as the bloody history between the Valandians and the Aserai breeds mutual distrust, and their foreign appearance and religious differences make them subjects of suspicion among the Aserai. The kingdom''s reluctance to commit to a strong standing army stems not only from their divided loyalties but also from the perceived expense. Many lords view a permanent military force as a drain on their wealth, preferring instead to invest in trade ventures that promise more immediate returns. This reluctance, however, has also been a source of vulnerability. The Aserai¡¯s over-reliance on hired hands and merchant guards means that in times of significant conflict, they lack the cohesion and resilience of other more militarized nations. This has made them susceptible to invasions and external pressures, particularly from the Valandians and the Western Empire. This reliance on mercenaries is often criticized by those who see it as a weakness, a short-sighted approach that leaves the kingdom vulnerable to betrayal and disloyalty when financial incentives wane.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Recent events have brought the Aserai kingdom closer to a precipice, with tensions rising on two fronts. The Southern Empire, led by the ambitious Empress Rhagaea, has been looking to extend her influence over Aserai lands. These two powers, though once amicable trade partners, have found themselves at odds as political maneuvering and border skirmishes threaten to spark a larger conflict. For Valandia, however, this unrest represents a strategic opportunity. King Detrhert, the Valandian monarch, has forged a cautious alliance with the Western Empire, led by Garios. This partnership allows Derhert access through Western Empire lands, providing Valandian forces with a land route into Aserai territories, a tactical advantage that was previously unavailable due to the vast desert expanses. For King Derhert, this alliance with Garios offers more than just a path to conquest¡ªit also brings with it the possibility of shared military intelligence, coordinated strategies, and access to the seasoned Imperial veterans that Garios commands. In addition, rumors persist that Derhert may have had a hand in the tensions between the Southern Empire and the Aserai, using covert agents from the notorious Hidden Hand to spread misinformation and incite hostilities. This subtle maneuvering has created a more volatile political landscape, one that threatens to engulf the Aserai kingdom in a multi-front conflict. For the Aserai, the current situation presents a grim dilemma. Although they are a proud and resilient people, their fractured loyalties and reluctance to maintain a powerful standing army leave them vulnerable to the ambitions of their neighbors. While Sultan Unqid tries to rally his lords under a common cause, the lack of unity and mutual suspicion among the Aserai leaders continues to undermine his efforts. Many fear that if a full-scale invasion were to occur, the kingdom might find itself overrun, its cities besieged and its people forced to defend their wealth with little more than hired swords and the bravery of their Jawwal riders. The wealth of the Aserai is not merely a reflection of their trade; it is also a symbol of their resilience and adaptability. Despite the challenges they face from jealous neighbors and piratical threats, the Aserai have managed to maintain their prosperity, using diplomacy and wealth to navigate a world often dominated by force. Their navy, though often called upon to defend against pirates, is also a tool of diplomacy, a means of showcasing the kingdom¡¯s reach and influence across the seas. The Jawwal riders, with their camels and javelins, embody the fierce independence and resourcefulness of the Aserai people, serving as a reminder that even in the harshest of environments, the Aserai are capable of defending their own. Yet, for all their success, the future of the Aserai kingdom hangs in a delicate balance. As Valandia and the Western Empire draw closer in their alliance, and as tensions with the Southern Empire continue to rise, the Aserai find themselves facing a critical crossroads. Will they be able to adapt, rally under a unified banner, and defend their lands? Or will their focus on profit over power ultimately lead to their undoing? In the heart of the desert, the Aserai stand proud, but the sands of time and the shifting tides of power may soon test the resilience of the Land of Prosperity. 38.5. Old Rival As the final light faded from the day, our camp was settling in for the night. After tending to the wounded and finishing the looting, our group worked quietly, burying the bandits'' bodies nearby. An eerie calm followed the battle, but fatigue and the sense of victory over the fight kept spirits steady. I assigned Silvana to guard Sora and stay close to her during our journey, knowing the risks ahead. The road to the Aserai lands would be long, easily three or four days by our planned path. To avoid drawing attention, we agreed to steer clear of larger towns, traveling through villages instead and trading supplies along the way. It wasn¡¯t a journey we could afford to rush, and with the injured soldiers resting in our carts, we needed to take our time. If we hurried, we risked losing more men. I wanted to prevent any further encounters with raiders or looters, who were especially numerous near the borders. The first day of travel was quiet, with the sound of the carts groaning over dirt paths the only thing filling the air. The sky was a blanket of gray clouds, with occasional gaps that allowed the sun to peek through and cast warm patches on the landscape. The smell of dust and distant fields of wild lavender filled my nose as we moved forward. Despite our small numbers, our group looked impressive, even organized¡ªa force that felt ready for anything. As the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the landscape, we approached a small village nestled in the hills. This was one of the villages under the authority of Lageta City, part of the Western Empire. The village itself seemed quiet, with only a few people out and about, mostly farmers leading livestock back from the fields. The sight was peaceful but carried a humble ruggedness, showing the resilience of those who lived there. We made a trade, swapping some supplies for fresh meat and spices. The farmers offered us beef cuts, and the smell of it, earthy and raw, filled our carts as we prepared to settle in for the night. The villagers shared stories with us as we traded, tales of how they sustained their modest economy through cattle and horse breeding, proud of their small but thriving village. The last of the daylight lingered on the horizon as Sora approached me. She suggested that our group could benefit from a few horses for the journey. She explained how it would not only ease the load on the carts but also reinforce our image as successful mercenaries. It was a sensible idea, and the suggestion stirred excitement in our recruits, who were eager for any symbol of advancement and wealth.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. The village head¡ªa wiry older man who moved with a surprising amount of energy¡ªtook me aside to haggle for the horses. I had enough money for two sturdy desert horses, and after a lengthy negotiation that seemed almost a dance of words, he agreed to let them go for forty-four hundred denars. The transaction drained a substantial portion of the funds Sora had provided me, but the horses were a welcome addition. That night, we camped just outside the village, with the men quietly chatting around small fires, savoring their evening meal. The sight of the horses gave everyone a sense of pride, reminding us of our mission and the reward we were all after. Silvana stayed close to Sora, and they shared some quiet words, almost conspiratorial, adding to the evening¡¯s mystery. We set off again at dawn, keeping a steady pace along the path southward. The wounded soldiers rested in the carts, their faces pale but determined, showing their strength through the pain. By midday, the road stretched out across a series of low plains that led toward Ortysia City. The plains gave way to sparse clusters of trees, each casting thin shadows that the wind tossed like whispers over the dry, sun-bleached grass. In the distance, dust rose, heralding the approach of a Valandian army, around three hundred men strong. The sight sent a slight chill through me, as we all felt the weight of the situation. The Valandians were formidable, a force that could easily overwhelm us if they chose to, but it was unlikely they¡¯d have any reason to harass a small band of mercenaries. Still, we kept our distance, watching their banners ripple in the hot breeze as they marched. The sound of their footsteps, even from a distance, was a deep, rhythmic rumbling that spoke of order and strength. As we approached the outskirts of Ortysia, we stopped in a small village to rest the horses, adjust the carts, and take inventory of our supplies. The sun was dipping low, casting a deep amber glow that spread like warm fire across the fields and rooftops. As I surveyed the village square, my gaze settled on a figure bound in chains at the center of the gathering. For a moment, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but then recognition struck¡ªa face that I recognized, someone I hadn¡¯t expected to see again. The memory of him was faint, like a ghost lingering in the back of my mind, but the sight of him now was jarring, flooding back emotions and memories. 39. Chains of Injustice As we entered the village near Ortysia, the sun dipped low, casting an amber glow across the land. The dusty air was thick with the smell of animals, stale hay, and sweat, filling my senses with an earthy discomfort. I had hoped this stop would be uneventful¡ªa brief pause to adjust our carts and check supplies. But as my eyes swept the village square, my attention snagged on a sight that made my stomach twist with unease. There, in the center of the square, bound to a post like an animal, was a man whose face I remembered vividly. The scars on his jaw, the strength in his build, even in chains¡­ he was the same man I had fought in the tournament in Zeonica. Back then, he had been a towering, armored force, his strength nearly unmatched. But now, without the gleaming armor, without any semblance of freedom, he looked worn, beaten, and somehow¡­ smaller. Two children were chained beside him¡ªa girl barely a teenager and a boy, no more than ten, with wide, frightened eyes. They huddled close, bound with thick iron cuffs that seemed absurdly oversized on their frail wrists. The sight made me grit my teeth. I could feel the burn of anger rising in my chest, and a heaviness settled over me like a dark cloud. What happened here? Why was he¡ªa man I knew to be formidable¡ªreduced to this? I moved closer, my footfalls barely audible over the soft murmurs of villagers who had gathered to watch. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to indifference, with only a few showing any hint of pity. A middle-aged man in a tattered coat, grinning in a way that made my skin crawl, sauntered over to me. ¡°Quite a sight, eh?¡± he said with a lecherous grin, gesturing to the girl. ¡°Pretty little thing, isn¡¯t she? Would¡¯ve bought her myself, but the price was just too high.¡± He chuckled, his eyes lingering on her in a way that made my blood run cold. I could see the man in chains tense, his jaw clenching so hard I thought he might snap his teeth. Despite his weakened state, the fury simmering in his eyes was unmistakable. If he¡¯d had any strength left, he would have torn that man apart¡ªand honestly, I was tempted to help him do it. But instead, I forced myself to remain calm. ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± I asked my voice level despite the rage simmering beneath the surface. The villager shrugged, still grinning as though he were sharing a particularly juicy piece of gossip. ¡°Well, it¡¯s simple. That big one,¡± he said, jerking a thumb at the man in chains, ¡°his family took out a loan a while back. Needed food, tools, you know how it is. But they got caught in the debt trap set by Mento, our landlord. Interest kept piling up¡­ by the time they paid three times what they owed, it was still nowhere near enough to close the debt.¡± He laughed, the sound hollow and heartless. ¡°Parents couldn¡¯t take the shame of it and¡­ well, they took the easy way out.¡± The words landed like stones in my gut, and I could feel the anger building, hot and relentless. But I stayed silent, listening as the villager continued, unaware¡ªor maybe just uncaring¡ªof the disgust building in me. ¡°Mento seized their property and took the kids to pay off the rest. Bit of a prize, really. You don¡¯t see a good stock like them every day.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. By now, my recruits, Sora, and Silvana had gathered around me, listening in stunned silence. The air around us felt charged, and tense, as though everyone was waiting for a spark. But it was Sora who spoke, her voice slicing through the thick, sickening atmosphere like a blade. ¡°I order you to release them this instant!¡± she commanded, her voice carrying a fierce authority I hadn¡¯t heard before. I turned to look at her, surprised, and saw a fire in her eyes that was unmistakable. It was easy to forget her noble background, especially since she rarely leaned into it. But now, her voice, her posture, even the way she held herself¡­ it was clear she had no intention of backing down. The villagers stirred, exchanging nervous glances, whispering among themselves. Their faces showed a mix of confusion, fear, and the slightest glimmer of hope. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an elderly man moving toward us, flanked by some younger men who appeared to be armed. He held himself with an air of authority, even arrogance, but as he took in the sight of our armed recruits, a flicker of uncertainty passed over his face. This must be Mento, the landlord who had orchestrated this nightmare. His eyes swept over Sora, taking in her regal stance, then shifted to me with a sneer. He had likely expected us to back down, but seeing Sora¡¯s fury and our numbers, he seemed to reconsider. Before he could speak, Sora¡¯s voice rang out again. ¡°Augustus,¡± she commanded her gaze steady and unyielding, ¡°free these slaves. Trust me. He won¡¯t dare challenge us.¡± There was a pause, and at that moment, I saw the glimmer of hope in the chained man¡¯s eyes and saw the way the children looked at Sora with a mixture of awe and confusion. With a nod, I turned to my men. ¡°Do it. Free them.¡± The villagers watched in stunned silence as my recruits moved forward, cutting the chains that bound the man and the children. The iron shackles hit the ground with a dull, metallic thud, the sound echoing across the square. I noticed Mento shift uncomfortably, his face contorting with barely concealed rage waiting for more of his henchmen to arrive. Suddenly, he stormed through the crowd, his face twisted in fury. Dressed in expensive, embroidered robes, he looked every bit the part of a wealthy landlord, and the arrogance in his gaze was unmistakable. This, no doubt, was the infamous Mento. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± he snarled, his voice laced with outrage. ¡°This is theft! These are my slaves, my property! Everyone don¡¯t just stand there¡ªdo something!¡± It seemed that Mento was not very liked by the villagers; apart from his henchmen, no one came to his aid. Sora stepped forward, a smirk playing on her lips. ¡°What we¡¯re doing isn¡¯t theft. It¡¯s justice,¡± she retorted. ¡°And as for you, your actions are in direct violation of the laws of the Western Empire. Branding someone a slave after they¡¯ve repaid their principal debt is a crime. Seizing children as collateral? That¡¯s another crime. You¡¯ve broken more laws than you can count.¡± Mento¡¯s face twisted with contempt. ¡°And who are you? A mere woman to lecture me on the Empire¡¯s laws? Just because you have a few soldiers at your back doesn¡¯t give you the right¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m more than just a woman with a few soldiers,¡± Sora replied, her tone cold and cutting. She met his gaze with an intensity that sent a chill through the square. ¡°I am the one who wrote those laws.¡± The crowd gasped, the weight of her words settling over them like a blanket of shock. Mento¡¯s sneer wavered, his eyes widening as he took in the full meaning of her words. For the first time, the arrogant landlord seemed to realize the gravity of the situation. 40. Divine Decree The tension in the village square was so thick it seemed to cling to every breath. The headman, who had just moments before worn an expression of cold authority, was now visibly shrinking in the presence of Sora. A strange sense of awe had settled over the villagers as they watched her. Standing tall, her gaze firm and unyielding, Sora exuded a kind of authority beyond her age or stature¡ªalmost¡­ divine. The air around her seemed to hold weight, something I¡¯d never felt, as if an invisible presence commanded reverence. The headman was the first to bow his head, his attitude completely reversing from the defiance he''d shown earlier. His voice trembled as he stammered out apologies, his eyes darting between Sora and the villagers who had gathered around. ¡°My Lady, forgive us, forgive us, we were¡­ we were misinformed. I-I had no idea¡­¡± His voice trailed off, and he dropped to his knees in the dirt, his hands clasped together in a desperate show of humility. Sora regarded him for a long moment, her face expressionless, her voice steady but cold. ¡°You¡¯ve made a grave error,¡± she announced, her voice loud enough to reach the crowd that had gathered in silence. Her words rang through the village square, causing some of the onlookers to shuffle in unease. ¡°An error not only against these children and their brother but against the principles of justice and honor in this land.¡± The headman¡¯s face flushed, and he remained on his knees, unable to meet her gaze, muttering apologies as if each one could somehow erase his guilt. The onlookers stared in shock, the air buzzing with the sound of their collective whispers and murmurs. ¡°Gather the villagers,¡± Sora commanded the headman, her voice sharp and unyielding. ¡°They all need to witness this.¡± Her gaze hardened. ¡°I will see justice done here.¡± The headman¡¯s expression shifted, and he scrambled to his feet, moving through the square like a frightened rabbit, calling out to the villagers in a hurried, almost fearful tone. More villagers poured into the square, their eyes wide with curiosity, their faces taut with expectation as they looked to Sora, whose mere presence seemed to impose order and silence. Once a sufficient crowd had gathered, she turned to address them all, her voice carrying through the open air with clarity and purpose. ¡°What has happened here is not just a failure of this man,¡± she said, nodding toward the headman, ¡°but a failure of understanding justice.¡± She paused, her eyes sweeping over the villagers, holding each gaze with intensity. ¡°Laws exist not only to protect those with wealth and influence but to uphold the dignity and rights of everyone, no matter their status.¡± Some of the villagers exchanged uncertain glances, their faces a mix of curiosity and confusion. For them, a noblewoman was likely something only heard of in stories or seen from afar¡ªnever one who would stand here, advocating for their rights. Sora continued, her voice steady and unwavering. ¡°It is illegal to brand anyone a slave without proper cause or due process. What you see before you are a direct violation of these laws.¡± She let her words settle over them like a stone sinking into the water, her gaze steady, capturing the attention of everyone in sight. ¡°From this moment forward,¡± she said, her tone growing even more resolute, ¡°if any landlord, headman, or noble should attempt to misuse their power over you, I urge you to seek out the lord in Ortysia. And if they ignore your pleas, you need only mention that you will take your case to Lady Nadea of Jalmyrys herself.¡± A hush fell over the villagers. The mention of Nadea¡¯s name sent ripples through the crowd, and I noticed several faces light up with something that looked almost like hope. I could feel a shift in the energy around us as the villagers absorbed her words, many of them nodding and whispering to one another in agreement.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. As Sora¡¯s speech continued, I turned my attention to the injured man and his siblings. Silvana was kneeling beside them, tending to their wounds with gentle care. She had managed to wipe away the grime from their faces, revealing their exhausted yet relieved expressions. The older girl¡ªAlea, I would later learn¡ªhad a faint smile on her face, and her younger brother, Phasos, looked at her with wide, grateful eyes, clutching her hand as if it were the only thing tethering him to safety. When Sora finished her speech, I took a deep breath and approached the man who, just an hour ago, had been chained and helpless. Now, with the chains gone and his head held high, he seemed to regain a sliver of dignity. His eyes were still glassy with unspilled tears, and he looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. ¡°Thank you,¡± he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. ¡°I thought¡­ I thought my family and I were done for. The moment they branded us, I thought all hope was lost.¡± I nodded, feeling a strange sense of connection to this man. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. ¡°Nathanos,¡± he replied, his gaze dropping to the children who were now huddled beside Silvana, looking up at him with adoration and relief. ¡°And these are my siblings, Alea and Phasos.¡± I crouched down, offering the children a reassuring smile. ¡°You¡¯re safe now,¡± I said, my words gentle but firm. ¡°No one is going to hurt you again.¡± Alea looked at me, her eyes welling up with tears, while Phasos clung to her hand, nodding slowly. For the first time since we¡¯d entered the village, I saw genuine smiles on their faces. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Turning back to Nathanos, I asked, ¡°What will you do now? Do you have a plan?¡± He shook his head, the pain of loss and uncertainty flickering across his face. ¡°I don¡¯t have a home anymore,¡± he admitted. ¡°Our land was taken¡­ and my parents¡­¡± He trailed off, his voice thick with grief. ¡°But I do have some skills in combat,¡± he added, his tone strengthening with a touch of pride. ¡°I was trained as a gladiator. I fought in arenas for years.¡± The memory of watching him fight in the tournament flashed through my mind. I remembered his strength, his skill¡ªhe had been a fierce opponent. It was hard to reconcile that image with the man standing here now, vulnerable and stripped of everything. But as he spoke, I saw a glimmer of that fighter¡¯s spirit return. I took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling on my shoulders. ¡°I could use someone with your skills,¡± I said slowly. ¡°My group is always in need of experienced fighters. And if you join us, I can promise you a fair wage¡ªten denars a day. And more importantly,¡± I glanced at the children, ¡°I¡¯ll make sure Alea and Phasos are cared for. They¡¯ll have food, shelter, and a chance at an education.¡± Nathanos¡¯s eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought he might break down. But instead, he nodded, a single tear slipping down his cheek. ¡°Thank you,¡± he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. ¡°For everything. I never thought¡­ I never thought anyone would help us.¡± As he spoke, a familiar robotic voice echoed in my mind, jolting me with its suddenness. *New Companion Acquired.* The words hung in my thoughts, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of satisfaction¡ªknowing that we had gained not just a skilled fighter but a person whose loyalty was forged in gratitude. As the crowd began to disperse, murmuring about what they had witnessed, Sora approached me, her face softer than I¡¯d ever seen it. The cold authority she¡¯d held moments ago was gone, replaced by something almost vulnerable. ¡°Thank you for trusting me,¡± she said quietly, her gaze holding mine. ¡°Not many would have taken such a risk for me.¡± I shrugged, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. ¡°Sometimes, doing the right thing is worth the risk, but I think we need to talk about something can you come with me for a while¡±. I asked. Her response was swift a nod and she pointed me in a direction we went in that direction together as I had a lot of questions in my mind. Nathanos gathered his siblings, holding them close as if he couldn¡¯t believe they were truly safe. For once, the village square felt calm, a strange peace settling over it. As we prepared to leave, I realized that this small act of defiance, this simple victory, meant more to me than I could put into words. 41. Playful Sora After the commotion at the village square, I led Sora to a quiet spot at the edge of the village, away from the murmurs and curious glances of the locals. The golden light of dusk cast long shadows, painting everything in muted shades of orange and purple. I turned to face her, my curiosity boiling over, but she merely raised an eyebrow, wearing that playful, almost teasing smile. ¡°You know what you did back there?¡± I asked, feeling a hint of frustration slip into my tone. She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening as if savoring some private joke. ¡°Did what exactly?¡± she replied, her voice light, feigning innocence. My patience frayed, and I took a deep breath. ¡°The whole¡­ grandstanding in front of the headman, telling everyone about the Empire¡¯s laws. You caused quite a scene. I thought we agreed that keeping a low profile was essential to this journey.¡± Her teasing smile softened, and she moved closer, gently taking my hands in hers. Her touch was warm and unexpectedly steady, grounding me amid my worries. Leaning in, she whispered, ¡°Are you afraid I¡¯ve ruined our plan? Drawn too much attention?¡± A part of me almost forgot why I¡¯d been so anxious in the first place. There was a surprising sincerity in her gaze, a vulnerability that caught me off guard. For a fleeting moment, I felt the layers she usually kept hidden, the inner strength and resolve mixed with traces of doubt. I was about to let my frustration slip away when she spoke again. ¡°Look, Augustus,¡± she said softly, her gaze unwavering. ¡°You have to understand that I wasn¡¯t about to stand by and let that headman break every law in the Empire. Those villagers needed to see someone defend them. They needed hope.¡± Her words lingered, filling the quiet space between us. I exhaled, some of my tension melting. ¡°So you¡¯re saying there was no other way?¡± A ghost of a smile returned to her face. ¡°Perhaps. But even if it caused a stir, I¡¯m not worried. By now, the people who ordered that bandit attack likely already know I¡¯m gone. With any luck, they¡¯ll hesitate to act, knowing we¡¯re close to crossing into Aserai territory.¡± I nodded, understanding her logic, even though it hadn¡¯t fully eased my concerns. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll admit your reasons make sense. But, Sora, we¡¯re on a journey full of risks, and I don¡¯t want to have to watch my back every time someone thinks they recognize you.¡± A small, playful laugh escaped her lips, lifting some of the weight that hung over us. ¡°You worry too much. I may not be much help right now while you¡¯re playing my guardian, but once we¡¯re in Aserai lands¡­¡± she trailed off, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. Curiosity pricked at me, and I couldn¡¯t resist asking, ¡°And how exactly are you going to help once we¡¯re there?¡± She turned her head, looking out toward the horizon as though picturing our destination. ¡°Once we¡¯re there, I can communicate with the locals. You¡¯d be surprised how few people speak the Imperial language fluently in Aserai. Most speak their own dialect, and without understanding it, even finding a place to sleep can be challenging.¡± Her words sparked something in me. I¡¯d noticed the system had given me some language skills that looked similar to Imperial Roman script. I decided to test it, to see if I could understand or speak the Aserai language, which might just give us an advantage. Trying to mask my surprise, I said, ¡°You know, maybe I¡¯ll manage to pick up a few words myself.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The expression on her face told me she wasn¡¯t buying it entirely, but before she could press further, I decided to steer the conversation back. ¡°Either way, thank you. For being willing to help and for trusting us to get you safely across.¡± We stood there in silence for a while, watching as the stars began to dot the twilight sky. A cool breeze swept through the trees, carrying with it the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil and distant fires from village cookouts. The atmosphere was peaceful, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything beyond this small village could wait. After a while, I decided to return to the camp to check on the recruits and finish the day¡¯s preparations. Our group waited through the night, gathering supplies, tending to the wounded and adjusting gear, getting ready for the road ahead. I could see some of the recruits leaning on their spears, chatting quietly, their faces illuminated by the firelight. Silvana was making rounds, ensuring everyone had what they needed, her focused demeanor contrasting with Sora¡¯s relaxed confidence. With dawn breaking, we assembled at the village¡¯s edge. The sky was tinged with hues of pink and gold, and a faint mist clung to the ground, dampening the morning¡¯s chill. We moved with purpose, the hush of early morning making our footfalls sound louder than usual. ¡°Keep together,¡± I said, gesturing for Silvana and Leon to position themselves at the front and rear of our formation. The soldiers fell into place, their movements practiced, almost routine. Even Sora walked among us with a certain grace, her hood drawn up to keep her identity concealed. The road to Aserai was long and winding, and we kept to the shadows, avoiding the main paths where we could. The terrain shifted from lush greenery to sparser fields, the soil gradually turning drier, and dustier. Each step brought us closer to our destination, but also deeper into unknown territory. The first day¡¯s journey was uneventful, the monotony of the landscape only broken by the occasional bird call or rustle in the underbrush. We kept our voices low, the tension simmering beneath our casual conversation as we passed by a few other travelers, merchants mostly, pushing carts or riding worn-out donkeys. By evening, we¡¯d made it to another small village, a settlement even quieter than the one before. The village was built around a well, the central gathering point where villagers came to fill buckets and trade news. The air was thick with the smell of livestock and the faint, earthy scent of herbs hanging in bundles from nearby huts. As we entered the village, a few locals cast curious glances our way, but they kept their distance. I approached an elder man who seemed to be watching over the village square, hoping he¡¯d be open to trading supplies. After a brief exchange, we managed to barter for fruits and meat in exchange for some of our less-needed provisions. The elder¡¯s gaze lingered on Sora for a moment, but he said nothing, merely nodding respectfully before retreating into the shadows. We set up camp on the outskirts of the village, lighting a small fire and cooking what little we had. The air grew cooler as night fell, and the sky darkened to a deep, inky blue, dotted with stars. Sora sat beside me, her gaze distant as she stared into the flames. The next morning, we resumed our march before dawn, the recruits falling into step without a word of complaint. Their discipline had improved, the result of countless hours of training and Silvana¡¯s constant guidance. The path to Aserai was drawing closer, and with each step, the landscape around us began to shift, the air drier, and warmer. By mid-afternoon, we could see the outlines of low, rolling hills, the beginnings of the arid plains that marked the Aserai lands. The terrain grew tougher, and the recruits fell silent, their focus on the road ahead. I could feel the weight of the journey settling on us all, a mixture of anticipation and unease. As we drew closer, Sora walked up beside me, her eyes scanning the horizon. ¡°Do you feel it?¡± she asked, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°Feel what?¡± I replied, glancing at her curiously. She smiled faintly, her gaze distant. ¡°The change. We¡¯re not in the Empire anymore. Aserai lands have their rhythm, their own life. You¡¯ll see.¡± Her words hung in the air, a promise of the unknown that lay ahead. And as we continued our march, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that our journey was just beginning. There were challenges to face, alliances to forge, and secrets to uncover. Discord 42. New Kingdom To Explore
As we moved into the Aserai village near the border, the landscape seemed to transform with each step. The colors grew richer, the air warmer and tinged with the scent of sun-baked earth and faint spices. Homes here were mostly modest, with sandstone walls, and tents were pitched in clusters, likely from people who had migrated in from surrounding areas. Despite the village¡¯s usual simplicity, a sense of urgency filled the air, giving the impression of a place on edge. Villagers moved quickly, carrying bundles, crates, and sacks, loading carts, and preparing animals for departure. The typical chatter and laughter were absent, replaced with worried murmurs and the occasional shout. Some elders gathered in a tight circle, seemingly in deep, worried discussion. I had half a mind to ask someone what was happening, but I hesitated, uncertain if I could even communicate here. Then I remembered how the system had allowed me to speak other languages back in the imperial cities, so I decided to try a common Aserai greeting. ¡°Hello,¡± I said to a man who was strapping baskets to the back of a donkey. He stopped and looked up at me with a mix of surprise and suspicion. ¡°Hello, friend ¡± he responded, his voice wary but respectful. His eyes flicked over my armor and the soldiers around me before settling back on my face. ¡°Not often we see travelers from the Empire here. And you¡¯ve arrived at a troubled time, friend.¡± Relieved that the system had worked to bridge the language gap, I nodded, keeping my tone respectful. ¡°I apologize if we intrude. We¡¯re passing through, but¡­ may I ask why everyone seems to be leaving in such haste?¡± The man¡¯s face darkened, and he took a cautious glance around before speaking. ¡°There¡¯s been word of raids. Valandian forces have been harassing border villages, attacking our people, and taking livestock, crops¡ªanything they can. Sultan Unqid has been rallying forces to strike back, a preemptive blow to push them back from our lands. He gathers his men in Quyaz.¡± Hearing this, I tried to keep my face neutral, but the tension and fear were evident in his tone. ¡°Is that why the village seems to be preparing to leave?¡± He nodded grimly. ¡°The Sultan has ordered evacuation to the nearest fortified cities or castles. This village and many others have been instructed to burn anything they can¡¯t carry so that Valandian raiders find nothing of use.¡± As he spoke, I noticed Sora had stepped closer, listening with a quiet intensity. When the villager glanced at her, his face took on a slightly puzzled expression as though he was trying to place her status. Sora¡¯s clothing and demeanor didn¡¯t exactly fit in with the standard imperial soldiers, and her regal bearing sometimes drew attention. After a few more questions, I thanked the villager and let him return to his work, but Sora lingered behind, watching him go. When she turned to me, her eyes were filled with a mix of surprise and admiration. ¡°Augustus, when did you learn to speak Aserai so fluently?¡± she asked, sounding genuinely astonished. I hesitated for a moment, quickly considering my answer. ¡°Picked up bits and pieces here and there,¡± I replied with a shrug. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised what sticks when you¡¯re on the road.¡± Her eyebrow arched skeptically, but she seemed to let it go. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a useful skill. But¡­ I still don¡¯t understand how you managed that so easily. Even the dialect¡­ it¡¯s as if you¡¯ve spoken it your whole life.¡± I gave her a quick, reassuring smile and avoided elaborating, feeling a twinge of guilt. There were parts of this world, especially the system, that I hadn¡¯t shared with anyone¡ªnot even Sora. I figured that now was as good a time as any to test how the system¡¯s language functions truly worked.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. As we walked back through the village, I focused on what I¡¯d discovered earlier. I realized that the system automatically detected the language based on the listener''s native tongue, so as long as I addressed an Aserai speaker, it seemed I¡¯d speak in their language. But when I spoke to Sora or any of my soldiers, it reverted to Imperial, without me needing to think about it consciously. It was a strange feeling, knowing that something could so seamlessly blend my thoughts and speech to match my surroundings. While Sora remained slightly puzzled, I was grateful for the chance to test the system further. I even thought about attempting a few more phrases in Aserai, to see if I could control the language setting, almost like flipping a mental switch. By focusing on Sora, I found I could speak to her in Imperial as she¡¯d expect while shifting my thoughts allowed me to communicate in Aserai when needed. It was a small but powerful advantage, one I knew would come in handy during our time in these lands. Turning my attention back to Sora, I found her watching me with a quiet look of curiosity. ¡°So, what do you think of this?¡± I asked, gesturing to the villagers as they hurried to pack their lives onto carts and donkeys. ¡°The Sultan¡¯s gathering forces in Quyaz, rallying for what sounds like a major strike against Valandia.¡± Sora¡¯s gaze turned somber as she took in the scene. ¡°Quyaz is more than just a city, Augustus. It¡¯s a spiritual heart for the Aserai people. Before any major conflict, especially one with such high stakes, it¡¯s tradition to seek blessings there. The city is sacred.¡± Her words held a weight that made me pause. ¡°So, this isn¡¯t just a tactical move?¡± She shook her head. ¡°For the Aserai, war and faith are intertwined. Sultan Unqid gathering his forces in Quyaz isn¡¯t just about military strategy. It¡¯s a way to unify his people under one purpose, to remind them that this fight isn¡¯t just for land or resources¡ªit¡¯s for their way of life, their beliefs.¡± As she spoke, I realized just how much more complex this situation was than I¡¯d anticipated. The Aserai weren¡¯t simply defending their territory; they were mobilizing around a cause deeply ingrained in their identity. It struck me as a sharp contrast to the empire, where power and politics often drove decisions. Here, the people were bound by a shared faith, an intrinsic loyalty to one another. I was pulled from my thoughts by the sounds of voices and animals nearby. The men were busy setting up camp just outside the village, the fires already lit, casting a warm, orange glow against the darkening sky. I could see Silvana directing a few of the newer recruits as they unloaded supplies, her sharp voice keeping everyone focused despite the long day¡¯s march. We settled in for the night, our tents arranged in a loose circle around a central fire. The scent of spices and cooked meat filled the air, blending with the earthy aroma of the soil and the faint, dry smell of distant desert sands. Even here, so far from the Empire, the simple act of setting up camp felt strangely familiar, grounding me in the moment. After a while, I noticed Sora lingering near the edge of the firelight, her gaze distant as she watched the flickering flames. I made my way over, sensing that there was more on her mind than she¡¯d let on. ¡°You seem deep in thought,¡± I remarked, taking a seat beside her. She looked up, her expression softened in the firelight. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ strange, being back here. I spent so much time preparing for this journey, but crossing the border feels¡­ final.¡± I nodded, understanding her sentiment. ¡°You¡¯re in familiar lands, yet everything feels different now.¡± She managed a faint smile, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. ¡°Yes, exactly. And it¡¯s not just the land or the people. It¡¯s the knowledge that my own family would go to such lengths¡­ sending mercenaries after me.¡± Her voice trailed off, barely a whisper. A wave of protectiveness surged through me, and I reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. ¡°They won¡¯t find you here, Sora. Not while we¡¯re together. I¡¯ll see to that.¡± She looked at me, a flicker of hope breaking through her melancholy. ¡°Thank you, Augustus. Truly.¡± We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our journey settling over us like the night air. There was an unspoken understanding between us, a bond forged by shared hardship and a sense of purpose that transcended words. As the fire crackled and the stars began to dot the sky, I leaned back, allowing my mind to drift to thoughts of the days ahead. Quyaz, with its looming conflict and the Sultan¡¯s gathering forces, was our next destination. The thought of entering such a significant city with a growing army nearby filled me with both anticipation and a sense of caution. We were stepping into the heart of the Aserai people, and with that came the promise of both opportunity and danger. 43. Gates of Opportunity As we approached the grand city of Quyaz, the golden glow of the evening sun cast a warm, almost ethereal light on its tall stone walls. I could see the tops of majestic towers and domes rising behind the walls, and in the distance, the faint hum of market sounds, chatter, and foreign accents melded into a symphony of activity. Quyaz, larger and livelier than I expected, felt almost as grand as Zeonica but with an unmistakable Aserai charm. This city seemed chaotic and inviting, as if every corner held the promise of a new encounter and opportunity. At the gates, however, our enthusiastic approach was dampened by the guards stationed at the entrance. Their eyes narrowed as they took in our appearance, and I could tell from their expressions that they weren¡¯t thrilled to see outsiders like us entering their sacred city. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a grizzled beard, stepped forward, clearly the one in charge, and raised his hand to stop us. "Ten denars if you want entrance," he said gruffly, his hand held out expectantly. I met his gaze, noticing the unwavering firmness in his eyes. I briefly considered arguing but realized it would be more trouble than it was worth. A glance at Sora and the others told me they felt the same. Drawing a few coins from my pouch, I handed them over without protest, accepting the minor irritation as the price for keeping a low profile. ¡°Here,¡± I said, handing him the money. The guard nodded, his expression unchanging as he stepped aside to let us pass. As we entered the city, we were immediately met with a dazzling array of sights and sounds. Quyaz was nothing short of a vibrant marketplace on a massive scale. Stalls and shops lined the main street, their owners calling out to passersby in a mix of Aserai and broken Imperial. The merchants sold everything from fragrant spices and exotic silks to intricately crafted jewelry and sturdy weapons. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, incense, and the faint tang of the desert. As we walked further, I realized this place wasn¡¯t just a city¡ªit was a hub of cultures converging, each one bringing a unique flavor to the atmosphere. I turned to Sora, who was taking it all in with a fascinated but slightly overwhelmed look. ¡°Sora,¡± I said, ¡°why don¡¯t you and Silvana find a place where our wounded can rest? We¡¯ve got enough funds to cover a few weeks of stay, so let¡¯s make it comfortable for everyone.¡± She nodded, giving me a determined look. ¡°We¡¯ll take care of it. I¡¯ll make sure the children and the injured have everything they need,¡± she said, casting a glance over at Alea and Phasos, who seemed exhausted from the journey. ¡°Thank you, Sora. Take some recruits with you. They¡¯ll make sure no one causes trouble.¡± Turning to Nathanos, I told him, ¡°Join me in the square with Leon and the rest. I¡¯ll need you in full armor to draw the attention of some well-paying employers.¡± Nathanos grinned, his usual steely gaze showing a flicker of pride. I had instructed him to wear the heavy armor we¡¯d looted from the bandits we fought on our way here, and now, amid the bustling marketplace, he looked every bit the warrior. His imposing figure, clad in gleaming iron, gave him an air of authority that was difficult to ignore. It was a strategy I hoped would convey strength to any potential employer, marking us as seasoned mercenaries who were here for serious business. While Nathanos was getting equipped I instructed Leon and some recruits that I and Nathanos were going to gather some information while its our duty to protect the children and the wounded.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Leon nodded in agreement and we left to find a potential contract. After making sure everyone knew their tasks, I took a moment to look around the city square. Quyaz, as Sora had mentioned, was not only a significant city but one with deep religious roots in the Aserai kingdom. It was a place where traditions held weight, and respect was shown to those who earned it. The streets were lively, but there was a palpable tension in the air, an underlying awareness of impending conflict that seemed to darken the otherwise vibrant atmosphere. Conversations drifted past me, snippets of chatter about Aserai warriors, Sultan''s preparations for war, and rumors of an upcoming invasion of Valandia. The whispers of war seemed to hang over everyone, adding an intensity to the city¡¯s usual bustle. As I walked through the square, taking in the sounds of merchants haggling, the clinking of gold, and the spirited debates between customers and sellers, I overheard a group of mercenaries speaking in low tones. They looked like they¡¯d been through their share of battles¡ªscarred, wary, and restless. I decided to approach them, hoping they might share some insights about securing contracts with the Aserai army. ¡°Good day,¡± I greeted them, giving a respectful nod. They looked me over with guarded expressions, sizing me up. One of them, a wiry man with a dark beard, inclined his head slightly. ¡°Good day to you, stranger. What brings an Imperial to Quyaz?¡± ¡°We¡¯re a mercenary group,¡± I explained, keeping my tone friendly but confident. ¡°I¡¯ve heard the Aserai are preparing for something big. Thought we might find some work here.¡± They exchanged glances before the wiry man spoke again. ¡°Aye, you¡¯re not wrong. The Sultan is gathering a force, something Calradia hasn¡¯t seen in years. Word is they¡¯re planning a preemptive strike on Valandia. If you¡¯re looking to join, you¡¯ll want to head to the Governor¡¯s palace. The recruiters are there.¡± I thanked them and turned back toward the palace, my pulse quickening. A contract with the Aserai army could be lucrative, and I knew that securing one could be the breakthrough our group needed. I gestured for Nathanos to follow, his armored figure drawing the curious glances I¡¯d hoped for as we walked. As we approached the Governor¡¯s palace, the guards eyed us with suspicion. Once inside, I was struck by the intricate architecture and the opulence of the place. The walls were adorned with gold filigree and intricate mosaics, and I could smell incense burning somewhere deeper in the palace. The entire place had an aura of reverence, a testament to the city¡¯s religious importance. After a short wait, I was led to the recruiter. He was an older man, with sharp eyes that seemed to take in everything at a glance. He was seated behind a desk, a pile of papers in front of him, and a quill in his hand. ¡°State your business,¡± he said curtly, not looking up from his writing. ¡°We¡¯re an Imperial mercenary group seeking enlistment in the Aserai army,¡± I replied, keeping my tone polite. He finally looked up, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before shifting to Nathanos, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. ¡°An Imperial who speaks our tongue. Unusual. Are you a fallen noble, by any chance?¡± I shook my head, feeling a flicker of satisfaction at his interest. ¡°Just a mercenary looking for work.¡± As I spoke, someone jostled me from behind. I turned to see a large, impatient man glaring at me, clearly annoyed that I was taking up time in the recruiter¡¯s presence. ¡°Move it along, Imperial. I¡¯m not waiting all day,¡± he sneered, pushing me again. I felt a surge of irritation and instinctively placed my hand on my sword, stepping back to face him. ¡°You¡¯ve got a problem? Maybe you¡¯d like to discuss it outside,¡± I said, keeping my voice steady but laced with an edge. He looked at me, then at Nathanos standing beside me in full armor, and I saw his face pale slightly. After a tense pause, he muttered something and stepped back, deciding he¡¯d rather avoid a confrontation. The recruiter, who had watched the exchange with a sharp gaze, stood up and closed his ledger. ¡°Come with me,¡± he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Encyclopedia-5.1- Secret Societies and Notable Tribes Embers of the Flame ¨C Secret Association The Embers of the Flame are a storied association tracing their roots to a nearly century-old rebellion, sparked by the overthrow of the young Emperor Darusos. Darusos, while seen as a spiritual beacon and saint by his followers, was deemed ineffective by his generals, one of whom ultimately seized power. The Embers of the Flame carry forth Darusos¡¯s ideals, claiming to prepare Calradia for the return of the fallen emperor, who they believe will rise again to usher in a new golden era of unity and justice. Though born from high ideals, the organization has had to contend with the harsh realities of survival. Repressed and outlawed by the empire, they have adopted more aggressive tactics, including extortion and covert operations, to gather resources and stay active. Their methods range from targeting imperial officials for intimidation to persuading local nobles sympathetic to their cause to send covert donations. They are especially active in areas near former imperial strongholds, hoping to reignite support among those who remember Darusos''s short-lived rule with favor. The Embers have a quasi-religious undertone, drawing on the image of fire as both a cleaner and destroyer. Members view their suffering as necessary and redemptive, believing they are refining themselves to one day join the resurrected Darusos in his righteous cause. Rumors suggest their members undergo intense initiation rites, testing both physical endurance and moral conviction. Ghilman ¨C Mercenary Brotherhood The Ghilman are a renowned and unique band of mounted mercenaries, primarily hailing from the southern tribes of Calradia and the distant lands beyond. The Ghilman maintain a curious position: they are ¡°owned¡± by their organization, having sold themselves into its service, while simultaneously holding partial ownership of the order itself. This structure is both practical and symbolic, creating an unbreakable bond of loyalty and shared destiny among its members. Despite their elegant attire¡ªoften dressed in silks, with elaborate turbans, oiled locks, and vibrant feathers¡ªthe Ghilman are far from preening fops. They are famed across Calradia for their expertise in mounted archery, surpassing even the swiftest Valandian and imperial horsemen. As lancers, their skill is only a step behind the armored cataphracts of the empire, making them highly valued in any engagement. Their choice of weaponry is carefully crafted to make the most of their equestrian skills: light, agile weapons like curved sabers for swift strikes, complemented by short spears for lunges while charging. The Ghilman follow a strict code: all disputes are settled in-house, and any desertion is punishable by death. Their pride in their appearance is no mere vanity; it serves as a reminder of their origins and the honor they carry. Their image is as much a part of their mystique as their martial prowess, and they are treated with a mixture of awe and fear by the common folk, who see them as both warriors and emissaries of an exotic culture. Company of the Golden Boar ¨C Mercenary Company The Company of the Golden Boar is a ragged but effective band of Valandian mercenaries, many of whom are former local levies turned to the life of a free warrior when peace left them jobless. Known for their lack of discipline, the Golden Boar is as infamous for their chaotic, often drunken escapades as they are for their ability on the battlefield. Many consider them as much a scourge as a savior, but they are undeniably effective when properly directed. As soldiers, the Golden Boar excel with crossbows, favoring ranged engagement from well-protected positions, and employing brutal close-quarter combat with maces and short swords if necessary. Their crossbowmen are especially well-trained and feared in Calradia. The company often runs roughshod over the countryside when allowed freedom of movement, sometimes shaking down local villages or looting the very regions they are hired to protect. Despite their rough methods, the Company is careful to honor contracts. They understand that their livelihood depends on their reputation, and while they may be brutal, they adhere strictly to the terms of their agreements. Their loyalty to Valandia, however, is unquestionable, and they will not hesitate to shift focus if the need arises. Brotherhood of the Woods ¨C Bandit Organization The Brotherhood of the Woods began as a noble peasant movement in Valandian forests, with a Robin Hood-like mission of robbing the rich to support the struggling poor. At first, their popularity was immense, with peasants joining them in droves and villages sheltering them from imperial and Valandian patrols. However, as they grew in size and ambition, the Brotherhood encountered a harsh truth: maintaining such a movement required constant resources, particularly food and supplies. In response, the Brotherhood began to levy ¡°taxes¡± on the villages they claimed to protect, and slowly but surely their idealistic mission faded. As informants threatened their survival, they resorted to intimidation and, at times, outright brutality, forcing locals into compliance. Over time, they evolved into an organization barely distinguishable from the bandits they had originally sworn to protect against. Their reach extends across Valandian territories, where their members hide in the dense forests and emerge only to collect their ¡°protection fees¡± or intercept wealthy travelers.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The Brotherhood is still romanticized by some of the older peasants who remember their early days, but the younger generation largely views them as ruthless extortionists, preying on their kin. Wolfskins ¨C Bandit Tribe The Wolfskins embody an ancient Battanian tradition in which young warriors reject civilization to ¡°go wild¡± for a while, learning to survive and thrive in the unforgiving wilderness. Traditionally, a Wolfskin would live off the land, eat only uncooked food, and sleep under the stars. Once he returned to his tribe, he would be considered purified, having proved his mettle against the elements. However, in recent times, this tradition has taken on a darker tone. The modern Wolfskins are not always driven by a spiritual calling but often by a desire for unfettered violence and chaos. Many are the sons of wealthy Battanian nobles who use this tradition as an excuse to indulge in their basest instincts, robbing travelers and living by the blade. Adhering to the bare minimum of the old code, they wear only animal pelts, eschewing stitched garments, and roam in small, elusive bands, raiding anyone who dares to cross their paths. Though reviled by settled society, the Wolfskins retain a certain mystique in Battanian lands, where tales of wild warriors who defy the laws of men still captivate the imagination of the people. Legion of the Betrayed ¨C Mercenary Company The Legion of the Betrayed is the remnant of a once-glorious force, founded by loyalists of the old imperial army who detested the reforms of Emperor Arenicos. When the emperor dismantled the standing army in favor of the more economical archons¡¯ retinues, many soldiers felt that their honor and tradition had been betrayed. This legion was created by such men, clinging to the structure and customs of the imperial military, determined to keep alive the old ways. The Legion is composed of highly disciplined soldiers who bear deep resentment towards the empire that cast them aside. They wear the imperial insignias and keep the ancient standards, and their leaders are elected by the men rather than appointed by any lord or emperor. They have proven adaptable, working for various patrons but with an unspoken preference for imperial clients. They retain rigid codes, drilling tirelessly to maintain their edge. Despite their mercenary status, they take pride in their origins and regard themselves as the last true imperial army. Skolderbroda ¨C Mercenary Brotherhood The Skolderbroda, or Shield Brothers, are one of the most elite mercenary companies in Calradia, distinguished by their strict code of conduct and intense commitment to training and discipline. Originating in the north, they are primarily composed of Nordic warriors, but they accept any proven fighter willing to abide by their rigorous lifestyle. Recruits must be vouched for by an existing Brother, and the acceptance process is grueling, with tests of endurance, loyalty, and fighting skill. Their encampments are run with military precision, akin to monastic retreats. No women are allowed in their camps, and Brothers are forbidden from indulging in drink, gambling, or other vices during their service. The Shield Brothers value personal honor and view any breach of their code as grounds for expulsion. In combat, they rely on traditional Nordic weaponry: spears, round shields, and axes. Their combat style emphasizes teamwork, and their shield walls are famously impenetrable. Skolderbroda''s dedication and skill have earned them a formidable reputation, making them highly sought-after by northern lords and even the empire, though they never compromise their rules, even for noble patrons. The Hidden Hand ¨C Secret Society The Hidden Hand is a feared and influential criminal organization operating primarily in the southern reaches of the empire. The group is part of a powerful mafia-like structure, thriving in rural areas where the empire¡¯s authority is weak and exploiting the gaps in law enforcement. The Hidden Hand has mastered the art of making itself indispensable to the powerful; they act as enforcers for local lords, silence political dissidents, and eliminate rivals in exchange for protection and access to black-market goods. Members of the Hidden Hand are often able to live double lives, spending part of the year as brigands and part as legitimate traders. They specialize in stolen goods, moving items from the countryside into the cities under false papers and through bribed officials. Their secrecy is tightly guarded; only core members know the inner workings of the organization. Though they claim to have a ¡°code,¡± the Hidden Hand is as ruthless as any bandit group, and their presence is deeply resented by the peasants and merchants forced to deal with them. Karakhergit ¨C Nomadic Tribe The Karakhergit are a nomadic tribe who pride themselves on resisting the pressure to settle, farm, and pay taxes to the centralized Urkhunait khans. They are a throwback to the old ways, moving across the steppes with their herds, living in tents, and relying on raiding and trade to survive. This independence has made them both respected and resented by other clans, who view the Karakhergit¡¯s freedom with envy but also disdain for their refusal to ¡°join civilization.¡± In addition to herding, the Karakhergit engage in the traditional practices of raiding and kidnapping for ransom, keeping alive the old heroic code of the steppes. They are adept horsemen and archers, and their knowledge of the vast open plains gives them an advantage over any would-be conquerors. Their defiance of centralized authority and refusal to submit to the Khans has led to tensions with other tribes, though they are careful to keep a balance between autonomy and open warfare with the established powers. Encyclopedia-5.2- Secret Societies and Notable Tribes Beni Zilal - Secret Organization The origins of the Beni Zilal, also known as the "Sons of the Shadows," are as enigmatic as the group itself. According to legends, the organization began under the guidance of a mysterious, almost messianic figure who established a fortress deep in the Nahasa desert. This figure, believed to have possessed a rare charisma and mastery over hallucinogenic herbs, drew countless followers to his cause. Under his influence, his followers would enter trance-like states, said to be visions from divine beings or the shadowy voices of the desert. Beni Zilal has gained a strong foothold in the region, instilling fear among the Aserai nobility. Known for wielding assassination as a weapon, they target anyone they view as corrupt or too powerful, ensuring that the balance of power in the Nahasa remains skewed in their favor. Although only whispers of these dark deeds circulate, they are a looming, unspoken threat in the desert. Over time, Beni Zilal has woven itself into the region''s structure, establishing protection rackets for merchants and caravans passing through the harsh desert sands. Many travelers consider the cost of protection by Beni Zilal a necessary burden, for the alternative can mean certain death. Local rulers, whether from fear or strategic alliance, find it advantageous to deal with them. While maintaining a powerful influence in the shadows, Beni Zilal awaits a day when they may surface, revealing the full extent of their strength to the world. Forest People - Independent Tribe The Forest People have long called the untamed woods of Calradia their home, adopting a way of life that aligns with their landscape and minimizes interference from the larger Sturgian nobility. They practice a form of slash-and-burn farming, clearing small tracts of forest, growing crops for several years until the soil loses its fertility, and then moving to new lands. The rich nutrients from the burned wood fertilize the soil, yielding good crops, albeit for a short span of time. Because of their transient nature, the Forest People are seldom taxed. Their lifestyle keeps them disconnected from the governance of Sturgian boyars and gives them freedom from the constraints of civilization. Their population remains modest, with each tribe supporting only a few dozen or perhaps a hundred members, all living in closely-knit, self-sufficient communities that rely on hunting, gathering, and small-scale farming. They are revered in local folklore as defenders of the forest, sometimes cooperating with rangers and even with druids who wander through these lands. Though often seen as outsiders by the larger Sturgian society, the Forest People maintain a powerful independence that many admire, even if they do not fully understand the challenges of life under the forest canopy. Jawwal - Mercenaries of the Desert The Jawwal, or "Roamers," are the proud Bedouin confederacy roaming the harsh Nahasa desert. True to their name, they are a nomadic people, wandering from the fertile highlands to the desolate lowlands in search of seasonal grazing for their animals. Their expansive knowledge of the desert makes them territorial protectors; any caravan passing through Jawwal land must pay a fee, which the Jawwal consider a mark of respect. For the Jawwal, poetry is as much a part of life as the sand underfoot. They compose verses of their travels and battles, passing these oral traditions down generations. They mock the sedentary clans who have chosen to forsake the freedom of the desert, exchanging black wool tents for stone walls and dependence on oasis life. Their sense of pride in their wandering lifestyle can be seen in their disdain for those who conform to fixed settlements. Still, the other Aserai clans have a grudging respect for them, for the Jawwal have preserved the ancient ways and honor their forefathers¡¯ traditions. Though many see the Jawwal as mere desert marauders, their loyalty to the Aserai is unquestioned. In times of war, they ally with the Aserai lords, standing as protectors of their homeland and religion. While they are primarily loyal to Aserai, they operate as mercenaries, bringing their considerable skill in desert warfare to defend their people.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Eleftheroi - The Free People The Eleftheroi, translating to "the free people," make their home on the steppes that lie beyond the borders of the Empire. They are descendants of runaway slaves, debtors, and fugitives, and they value their freedom above all else. This deep-rooted love of autonomy has made them both allies and adversaries to the Empire. They hold a bond to the idea of the Empire, but when it comes to Imperial authority and taxes, their stance is firm¡ªthey answer to no one. Despite their disregard for centralized governance, the Eleftheroi have established themselves as valuable frontier scouts and defenders of the Empire''s outer lands. Their loyalty is not so much to the rulers of the Empire, but rather to the frontier itself. Over time, the Empire granted them official titles, and their youth were often recruited to serve in the retinues of generals and emperors. Though they are semi-autonomous, their ways are often seen as incompatible with the Empire¡¯s doctrines. This has led to tension, particularly when Imperial orders contradict Eleftheroi customs. Even so, the Eleftheroi represents an intriguing blend of loyalty to an idea and resistance to the hand that would govern them. Lake Rats - Marshland Bandits The Lake Rats are infamous for their swampy hideouts on the northern lake¡¯s shores, residing in shacks fashioned from the remnants of shipwrecks and salvaged timbers. They are known for their dubious practice of "wrecking"¡ªusing misleading lighthouses and false signals to lure ships onto the treacherous shoals. Once the vessel''s founder, the Lake Rats seize whatever they can, from cargo to coin, eking out a subsistence in their waterlogged world. Society views them as lawless pariahs, criminals living outside the reach of the law. However, the Lake Rats, live by their code, bound by an honor understood only by those who share the hardships of swamp life. Their lives revolve around plundering unfortunate vessels, smuggling, and trading stolen goods. They may not be the most revered group in Calradia, but they are a family to one another, united by shared dangers and survival in the marsh. Though they are mainly of Sturgian descent, they accept anyone willing to live by their rules, be it a fugitive, debtor, or a soul who simply seeks freedom from the rigid laws of civilization. Hidden Hand - Secret Society The Hidden Hand operates in the underbelly of the Southern empire, straddling the line between criminal syndicate and political influence. They offer services to powerful patrons, often enforcing silence, quelling rebellions, and conveniently removing those who threaten the peace. The Hidden Hand maintains a fluid identity, with its members slipping between lives as brigands in the countryside and respectable "traders" within the towns. Their leader is an elusive figure, and the group¡¯s true members remain veiled in secrecy. Operating from the shadows, they seldom reveal their intentions, presenting a benign face to the townsfolk while weaving a more sinister web beneath. They employ subtlety as their primary weapon, using bribes, threats, and the occasional assassination to ensure their operations remain uninterrupted. One of their principal sources of income is the trafficking of stolen goods, which they distribute across towns as "legitimate" trade items. Although most villagers fear and loathe them, few dare to confront them, for their reach is long, and their power substantial. The Hidden Hand represents a dark, omnipresent force in the Empire, one that authorities often prefer to ignore rather than confront directly. Karakhergit - Nomadic Clan The Karakhergit are a nomadic clan that roams the far-reaching Urkhunait steppes, resistant to the authority of the centralized khans. They hold fiercely to their independence, despite numerous efforts by the Khans to bind them to farmlands, impose taxes, and levy soldiers. The Karakhergit scoff at such attempts, finding pride in their traditional, migratory lifestyle. Other clans regard them with mixed emotions, envying their freedom while scorning their refusal to adhere to modern customs. This nomadic lifestyle, however, does not make them mere wanderers; the Karakhergit are skilled raiders, often engaging in minor skirmishes, raiding livestock, and occasionally, kidnapping for ransom. They view these activities not as crimes but as an honorable extension of their ancestors'' ways. Though they may clash with other clans, the Karakhergit occasionally establish trade and even marriage alliances with their settled brethren, for they understand the value of forming bonds amidst the harshness of the steppe. In a land where survival depends on unity and strength, the Karakhergit stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of Calradia¡¯s nomads, showing the rest of the realm the value of independence and resilience. Through their complex histories, these societies and tribes represent the myriad facets of Calradia¡¯s world. Each contributes uniquely to the continent''s intrigue and survival, showing how diverse traditions, loyalties, and lifestyles can thrive even amidst the challenges of the land. From the desolate deserts of Nahasa to the swamps of the northern lakes, these groups each hold their secrets, strengths, and stories. 44. Meeting with Sultan The recruiter led Nathanos and me deeper into the palace, down long, dimly lit corridors lined with guards in ornate armor. The atmosphere grew heavier with each step, and I sensed we were heading somewhere important. Finally, we reached a heavy wooden door flanked by two guards with a different, almost ceremonial look to their armor. One of them raised his spear slightly, signaling us to stop. ¡°Leave your weapons here,¡± the guard said in a low, firm voice. I glanced at Nathanos, who nodded slightly and began unbuckling his sword belt. Reluctantly, I did the same, placing my weapons on a low stone table nearby. Feeling strangely vulnerable without them, I looked back at Nathanos, who seemed similarly uneasy. The guard opened the door and gestured for us to step inside. As we entered the room, the first thing that struck me was the lack of windows. There was no natural light, only the faint flickering of oil lamps casting shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, which did little to mask the closeness of the space. Around us were more guards, but their uniforms were different from those we had seen at the palace gates¡ªmore intricate, decorated with silver and gold embellishments. They stood silently, watching us with stern, expressionless faces. At the center of the room was a low, round wooden table, surrounded by high-backed chairs. Some of them were already occupied by figures draped in the traditional Aserai robes, their faces shadowed under the folds of their hoods. My gaze was drawn to the man sitting at the head of the table. He wore a richly adorned robe and a turban encrusted with jewels, and his presence commanded attention. His eyes were piercing, sharp like a hawk''s, and his thick, dark beard showed streaks of silver that hinted at his age. There was no mistaking it¡ªthis was Sultan Unqid himself. The recruiter, who had followed us inside, stepped forward, lowering himself into a deep bow before the Sultan. I followed his lead, bowing respectfully as the recruiter announced, ¡°Sultan, I have brought you someone who can help resolve some of the troubles you face. An Imperial mercenary, fluent in both Aserai and Valandian languages.¡± The Sultan¡¯s eyes shifted toward me, and a small, shrewd smile played on his lips. He gestured for us to stand up, his voice smooth but commanding. ¡°Rise,¡± he said, studying me closely. ¡°What is your name, and¡­ your family name?¡± There was a pause as he looked me over, his gaze probing, as though he were assessing not only my capabilities but also my lineage. I felt the weight of his question¡ªhe was trying to discern if I was nobility, someone with a family history of renown, or merely another wandering soldier of fortune. From my travels over the past few months, I had come to realize that in these lands, family names were the marks of nobility or honor; only they were remembered beyond a single generation. I cleared my throat and replied steadily, ¡°I am Augustus, Sultan. I have no family name. I am not a noble.¡± A hint of laughter escaped his lips, as though he had been amused by my answer. ¡°Good,¡± he replied with a chuckle. ¡°Good. I generally hate their kind, always thinking of profit and their own pockets before the needs of the people. They¡¯re not much different from mercenaries, save that they believe themselves entitled to rule.¡± He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his expression darkening. ¡°The war looms over us, Augustus. The Valandians are stirring, and I see no noblemen riding to my aid. They send treasures, empty riches, but no men. The fate of this empire, it seems, lies in the hands of men like you¡ªmercenaries who have a cause, even if it is a cause for coin.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. His gaze lingered on me, weighing my reaction, and I held his stare, neither defiant nor submissive. This was a man who valued strength and loyalty, and who had no patience for pretense. The Sultan continued, ¡°Your skills are rare. Few in these lands speak the Valandian tongue fluently, let alone the Imperial tongue, Aserai, and Valandian altogether. And those who do are mostly merchants¡ªnot warriors.¡± His eyes narrowed, considering. ¡°This makes you¡­ invaluable.¡± After a brief silence, he made his offer. ¡°I would enlist you in my service as a mercenary on a six-month contract. How many men do you have with you?¡± ¡°I have around twenty-five soldiers in my company, Sultan,¡± I replied, choosing my words carefully. ¡°Though I also travel with children and a few wounded who will not fight in battles.¡± He nodded, understanding. ¡°For you and your men, I will pay thirty thousand denars per month. It¡¯s a generous amount, but one I believe is fitting for the services I need. This war demands men who are not only skilled but who can communicate across borders, deliver orders, and understand my enemies.¡± He paused, leaning back in his chair. ¡°There is one condition: you will stay here in the palace. I¡¯ll give you a room¡ªbring your wife and children with you. But no weapons are allowed inside. Do you accept these terms?¡± The way he casually mentioned ¡°wife¡± caught me off guard, and I chuckled, correcting him, ¡°I agree to your terms, Sultan, but I do not have a wife.¡± The Sultan laughed heartily, his laughter filling the room. ¡°That can be arranged, mercenary. Many women in Aserai would be honored to wed a warrior in my service.¡± The room fell silent after his laugh, and I felt the gravity of the arrangement settling over me. I then ventured, ¡°Sultan, one more request, if I may. I would like permission to house the wounded and children in the palace as well, in the room you¡¯ve allocated for me.¡± The Sultan considered this for a moment, his expression thoughtful, before nodding. ¡°Granted. But remember Augustus, though I¡¯ve agreed to this, my trust comes at a price. I need you to be prepared to defend our lands and, when required, to launch an offensive. The peace of Aserai rests on a delicate edge, and the fires of war could spread at any moment.¡± With a final nod, the Sultan dismissed us. Just as I stepped out of the Sultan''s chamber, a familiar, feminine robotic voice sounded in my mind: "Charm leveled up to level 5. Please select a skill." Before me, two options appeared, floating like ethereal words in the air. Option A: Self Promoter Increased renown gained after winning a tournament, and increased morale while defending a seized settlement. Option B: Virile More likely to have children. Gain loyalty, morale, and relationships when spending time with troops and companions. I studied the options carefully, weighing their merits. The "Self Promoter" skill would certainly be useful for building renown and morale in specific situations, but I wasn¡¯t entirely sure how "renown" would impact my path forward. It seemed like a secondary reward, something that might take time to materialize in any tangible way. On the other hand, ¡°Virile¡± was more straightforward. It promised immediate and lasting benefits to my troops¡ªloyalty, morale, and stronger bonds with those who followed me. In the world I was carving my way through, those were the things that mattered. Building loyalty and trust within my ranks was critical; it could be the difference between victory and a mutiny in the future. So, with a deep breath, I chose "Virile." It felt like the safe bet, something that would fortify the foundation of the group I was leading. 45. Medic As the afternoon sun cast its golden glow over Quyaz, I gathered my core team: Sora, Silvana, Leon, and Nathanos, and asked them to come with me for a brief conversation. I saw Timothy, who had come forward with a look of concern etched on his face. He¡¯d suffered a great deal in our last battle, losing his arm. The sight of him approaching stirred a mixture of pride and sadness within me. Timothy was a good fighter, and the courage he¡¯d shown, despite his severe injury, had strengthened our ranks in both spirit and unity. I wasn¡¯t sure how he would take the news of the Sultan¡¯s proposition, but seeing the way he approached, I sensed he wanted to discuss something of his own. "Augustus," Timothy began, lowering his gaze. ¡°I wanted to say I¡¯m grateful for the care I''ve received so far, especially after losing my arm. But¡­ well, I¡¯m not sure if I can keep fighting like this.¡± He swallowed hard, looking around at the others, who watched him with sympathy. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a burden to the group. My mind¡¯s willing, but this injury has put a question mark on my usefulness in combat.¡± I could see the vulnerability in his eyes. "Timothy," I said, stepping forward and putting a hand on his shoulder, "you¡¯ve been a loyal fighter and a friend. You¡¯ve more than earned your place in Nova, and there¡¯s no need to worry about pay. You¡¯ve lost something vital in the line of duty. I don¡¯t take that lightly.¡± A brief, humble smile crept across his face as I continued, "Focus on healing. Explore other skills¡ªmaybe strategy, coordination, or even training recruits. There are so many ways you can strengthen our group without being on the frontlines." Timothy straightened a bit, the burden of doubt lifting from his posture. "Thank you, Augustus. I¡¯ll do whatever I can to support you. I might even surprise myself," he added with a smile, one that was both grateful and genuine. With Timothy¡¯s mind put at ease, I turned to the others. "As some of you may have heard, I¡¯ve secured lodging within the Governor¡¯s palace for some of us. Sora, Silvana, Timothy, and the children¡ªgiven the safety and the care offered in the palace, you¡¯ll be staying there." The news brought quiet excitement to everyone, particularly Timothy and Silvana. Sharing a roof with the Sultan himself felt like an honor, even if it was temporary. Knowing the Sultan was prioritizing their comfort and care boosted everyone¡¯s morale, a much-needed reprieve after weeks of rugged travel and battle. Once we¡¯d decided the arrangements, I added, ¡°The rest of us will find a place in one of the inns Sora already bargained for, but before we separate for the night, I think a small celebration is in order. We''ve made it to Aserai lands, we''ve secured a contract with the Sultan, and everyone here has earned a night of reprieve." The crew¡¯s spirits soared at the mention of a celebration. We all knew that moments like these were rare¡ªtimes to forget our scars and simply enjoy the victory. After everyone departed for the palace, I led the rest of our group toward the nearest tavern. It was a humble place, its dark wooden walls and simple decor cast in the soft orange glow of lanterns. The faint, warm scent of spiced meats mixed with the subtle tang of strong ale as we entered, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a calm settle over me. I ordered drinks for everyone, and we settled into a corner table. The sound of laughter filled the air, not just from my group but from other mercenaries and travelers who had found themselves in the heart of the Aserai lands. Leon, in particular, was in high spirits, regaling us with exaggerated tales from his training days, his loud laughter infectious to the whole group.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. As we found a table and settled in, my eyes caught a lone woman seated a few tables away, nursing her drink with a certain air of frustration. She looked rough around the edges, her dark hair framing a face that had seen its fair share of struggles. Her gaze wandered occasionally around the room, a mix of curiosity and caution evident. Intrigued, I approached her, weaving my way through the crowded tables until I stood before her. ¡°Mind if I join you?¡± I asked, offering a friendly nod. She looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly before she gestured to the empty seat. ¡°Be my guest,¡± she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. As I sat down, I introduced myself, and she responded, ¡°Name¡¯s Abda. Used to run a little medicine shop up north in Qasira. Not that it matters now.¡± The bitterness in her voice piqued my curiosity. ¡°Qasira? That¡¯s quite a distance. What brought you all the way to Quyaz?¡± She gave a rueful smile, her fingers tapping lightly on the edge of her cup. ¡°Rival merchants brought me here¡ªor rather, they pushed me out. I was building a steady business in Qasira and even had a good number of customers. But apparently, I was stepping on the wrong toes. The competition didn¡¯t like losing customers to my medicines, so¡­ they decided to end the problem permanently.¡± She paused, her gaze drifting as if recalling the memory. ¡°One night, I returned to find my shop a pile of ashes. I lost everything.¡± Hearing this, I felt a surge of anger on her behalf. ¡°That''s awful. And you have no place to go now?¡± She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°Nowhere. I had a skill set that kept me afloat, and now I¡¯m just another displaced soul in Quyaz.¡± As we continued talking, Abda revealed her extensive knowledge of herbs, treatments, and wound care¡ªskills that would be invaluable for any group, especially a mercenary one like ours. Realizing the importance of having a skilled medic, I decided to make her an offer. ¡°Listen, Abda. I¡¯m leading a mercenary group, and it sounds like we could use someone with your expertise. Having a capable healer in our ranks could make a real difference. If you¡¯re interested, I can offer you fifteen denars a day to join us. Not the most glamorous life, but we look after our own.¡± She studied me, a spark of interest flickering in her eyes as she weighed the proposition. ¡°You¡¯re offering me ten denars a day, just like that?¡± Earlier she was only paid when there was a need for a healer which would make her income unpredictable also Even after taking care of a patient and applying medicines there was a chance that the patient would die which would result in no pay for her. I nodded. ¡°Just like that. You¡¯ve got valuable skills, and we¡¯re in need of them. This could be a fresh start for you, a place where you¡¯re valued for what you can bring to the team.¡± After a moment, she extended her hand, a faint smile lifting the corners of her mouth. ¡°Alright, Augustus. You¡¯ve got yourself a healer.¡± I shook her hand, sealing the deal. ¡°Welcome to Nova, Abda. Trust me, you won¡¯t regret it.¡± As we returned to the table, I introduced Abda to the rest of the group, who greeted her with enthusiasm, glad to have a skilled medic among us. The news of her joining brought a sense of reassurance. The celebration carried on with a renewed vigor. Abda fit in seamlessly, sharing stories of her time in Qasira, her experience with herbs, and even her knowledge of some rather unconventional treatments that earned her a few raised eyebrows and chuckles. By the time the tavern was quieting down, I knew that Abda¡¯s addition would strengthen our group and provide us with much-needed medical expertise. When we finally left the tavern, the cool night air greeted us, wrapping around us as we walked back to our lodgings. With Abda now part of Nova, I felt a renewed confidence. The road ahead in Aserai lands would undoubtedly hold its share of challenges, but with companions like these, I was ready to face whatever came our way. 46. The Call to Arms The morning air in Quyaz held a serene calmness, its quiet contrast striking given the news I¡¯d received. Over the past few days, I¡¯d come to appreciate the city¡¯s beauty, with its domed architecture, open squares, and narrow streets reminiscent of a style that felt deeply rooted in the Middle East back home. I had almost begun to settle into this peaceful pace, thinking that perhaps we¡¯d have a few more days before the next call to action. But as I received the summons from Sultan Unquid that morning, I knew those peaceful days were ending. Only I had been called from my group, and oddly enough, not to the palace, but to a tent set up outside the city. When I arrived, soldiers were already stationed in every direction, securing the perimeter and radiating a sense of urgency I¡¯d seldom seen. This wasn¡¯t like the last meeting. This time, no one even bothered to check for my weapons. A soldier nodded at me, gesturing that I was expected, and led me past a line of guards standing at attention. The midday sun was beginning to rise, casting an almost oppressive heat over the land, amplifying the tension that already filled the air. In front of the tent, I saw rows of chairs arranged hastily around a stage, its wooden frame slightly uneven in the dust. Unquid¡¯s chair sat empty on the stage, the focal point, exuding a sense of authority and waiting to be occupied. As I took my seat in the front row as instructed, my gaze wandered over the faces around me¡ªsoldiers, a few officials, and what appeared to be influential figures, each one casting glances at the empty stage with a mixture of anticipation and unease. Moments later, the Sultan entered, his presence commanding immediate silence. He strode to his seat on the stage, radiating a sense of purpose¡ªand anger. His face was a mask of fury, barely restrained, and when he finally spoke, his voice cut through the air like a blade. "Gentlemen," he began, his tone deep and seething with barely contained rage, "I come before you with unexpected, yet fortuitous news." He paused, surveying the crowd, his gaze intense. "I had hoped to give my nobles time to send their full support before capturing Valandian territory and putting King Derthert¡¯s head on a spike. Yet, it seems our enemies have made a grave mistake.¡± The crowd around me murmured in surprise. Unquid raised his hand for silence and continued, his voice gaining momentum. ¡°The Valandians have marched onto our soil with a mere thousand troops, and by all accounts, they carry no reinforcements. They made a suicide attempt to seize one of our castles near the border, a stronghold they believe would weaken our defenses. But they¡¯ve miscalculated." He allowed himself a cold smile. "They didn¡¯t know that our full force was gathered here in Quyaz, waiting. They doubted my strategy, thinking they could outwit me after a few minor skirmishes." The Sultan¡¯s words were sharp, his rage only seeming to fuel his enthusiasm. "Today, we march with three thousand of our finest soldiers¡ªthree times their number¡ªto meet them head-on. We will protect our lands, defend our people, and send those heathens who defile our gods back to the dust from which they came." A strange energy pulsed through the crowd as the Sultan¡¯s words sunk in. He looked directly at me, his expression softened but still commanding. ¡°Step forward, Augustus.¡± I did as he asked, feeling the weight of countless eyes on me. Unquid addressed me, gesturing toward the audience. ¡°Translate my words for the benefit of our Valandian and Imperial allies.¡± My mind raced to remember each line, each turn of phrase as I began to repeat his speech, first in Imperial and then in Valandian. I tried to capture the same passion and conviction, knowing that the effectiveness of the Sultan¡¯s rallying cry depended on it. As I spoke, I could feel the eyes of everyone around me, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and fervor. I finished, and for a moment, there was silence¡ªa stillness charged with anticipation. Suddenly, a voice broke from the crowd. A man, rugged and broad-shouldered, stood up, his eyes locked onto the Sultan. His accent was thick, his Imperial broken but clear enough. "Why not give instructions in Khuzait?" he asked. ¡°Do you not consider us equals?¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The murmurs rippled through the assembly as he stared down the Sultan without flinching. I could see a few sidelong glances and heard the shifting of feet¡ªquestions, perhaps even doubts, brewing among the crowd. The Khuzait man¡¯s eyes flicked to me, suspicion coloring his gaze. Unquid did not hesitate. In what little Imperial he seemed to know, he offered an apology. ¡°It is not my intention to disrespect any who fight by my side,¡± he said, his tone surprisingly diplomatic. ¡°All who defend these lands are bound to me by loyalty and will be rewarded as such.¡± His gaze softened as he nodded towards the Khuzait man, who seemed mollified, at least for now. Before I could process the moment, Unquid lifted his hand, signaling the end of the audience. He then performed a brief religious ritual, one I recognized from previous observances, and dismissed the gathering with a command to prepare our troops for the march by dawn. When I finally returned to our quarters, I found Silvana, Sora, Nathanos, and Leon gathered around, chatting amongst themselves. As I approached, they fell silent, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anticipation. ¡°Gather up,¡± I said, taking a breath, feeling the weight of the message I was about to deliver. ¡°We¡¯ve received our orders. Sultan Unquid has called on us to join him in battle tomorrow. The Valandians have overstepped, trying to seize one of castles at the border. It¡¯s our job to reinforce the Sultan¡¯s forces and show them the consequences of marching onto Aserai soil.¡± Silvana¡¯s face hardened, her eyes narrowing in focus. "So, this is it, then? Our first true test with the Aserai army?" she asked. I nodded. ¡°Precisely. And we¡¯ll be joining an army of three thousand to face a force a third of that size. The Sultan¡¯s confident, but he¡¯s angry. His pride¡¯s on the line here, and he¡¯s making no secret of it.¡± Sora looked thoughtful, then worried. ¡°The Valandians may be outnumbered, but they¡¯re fierce, Augustus. They don¡¯t shy from a fight, even when the odds aren¡¯t in their favor.¡± I nodded, sharing her concern. "That¡¯s why I need everyone prepared. This won¡¯t be a simple skirmish. We¡¯re up against seasoned troops who¡¯ve likely planned for reinforcements to come." Leon, who had been listening intently, chimed in. "So, what''s the strategy? We¡¯re just to march alongside the Aserai soldiers and await orders from the Sultan?¡± ¡°Essentially,¡± I replied. ¡°Though I¡¯ll see if we can gain a position on the flanks. With our numbers, we have the advantage of surrounding them, cutting off their retreat. But we¡¯ll have to be nimble, stay alert. I don¡¯t trust the Sultan to be watching our backs.¡± Nathanos grunted in agreement. ¡°The man wants his glory. He may let others take the brunt of the charge just so he can ride in at the last moment.¡± Silvana smirked, glancing over at Nathanos. ¡°So we keep our heads low, and we watch each other¡¯s backs, then. No glory hounds here.¡± I nodded, feeling a surge of pride at the loyalty in their words. "Exactly. We go in, we get the job done, and we come out alive. No unnecessary risks, and we take every advantage we can find." With the meeting over, others dispersed to prepare themselves. As the day wore on, I gathered our troops and briefed them on what was to come. I saw each soldier donning their armor with an intensity they hadn¡¯t shown before. Even Timothy, who had lost his arm, had a fire in his eyes that spoke to his determination to be of help in any way he could. He approached me, his voice steady but low. ¡°Augustus, I¡­ I know I¡¯m not in a position to fight, but I want you to know that I¡¯ll find a way to contribute. Even if I have to carry supplies or tend to the injured.¡± I clasped a hand on his shoulder, feeling the weight of his words. "Timothy, you¡¯re part of this group. You don¡¯t need to prove anything to me or anyone else. Whatever you can do to help, it will be more than enough." As I finished my rounds, I took a moment to look over our assembled force, feeling a strange mixture of pride and trepidation. Tomorrow, we¡¯d be tested as we never had been before. 47. Face-off After two grueling days of forced march, the exhaustion from travel settled heavily on our bones. Sultan Unquid had driven us hard, understanding the necessity of stopping the Valandian preparations before they solidified their siege. Yet, despite the weariness, there was a tangible sense of purpose among us. This was no ordinary skirmish¡ªit was to be a decisive encounter, one that would turn the tides for the Aserai, and perhaps the Valandia. As we approached, we expected to see the Valandians hidden behind their fortifications, content to make us bleed for every inch we¡¯d gain. However, to our surprise, they were not hiding in their fortified camp but instead were preparing for an open field battle. I looked around, taking in the positioning of both armies and the heavy presence of Sultan Unquid¡¯s troops, and realized that despite our weariness, we held a significant advantage in numbers and formation. The Valandian forces, based on scout reports, numbered around 1,300, with some of the most fearsome troops I had ever seen. At the heart of their defense, they had brought 200 sharpshooters equipped with pavise shield and heavy crossbows¡ªlarge shields designed to provide cover while reloading. These sharpshooters were backed by the infamous Golden Boar mercenaries, a group of 200 hardened fighters, each as fearsome as any elite soldier. They were well-disciplined, experienced, and merciless, and their placement in the center of the Valandian line made clear that they intended to hold this position until the last man. Their infantry consisted of a formidable array of pikemen, billmen, and the deadly Voulgiers, all totaling around 600 men. The pikemen and billmen stood at the forefront, forming a wall of spikes and blades to deter any attempt to close the gap. Behind them were the Voulgiers, wielding long, hook-shaped polearms designed to pierce through armor and cut down mounted soldiers. The sheer number of long weapons gave their line a savage, bristling appearance, an almost impenetrable wall of steel that would be challenging for any cavalry to break through. On their flanks, Valandia had split its cavalry. On the left flank, they positioned 100 cavalry, while their right flank held a force of 200 cavalry. Among them were the feared Valandian champions, vanguards, and the famous Bannerknights, the elite of Valandian knighthood. These knights, clad in heavy armor, carried the colors and crests of Valandian nobility and bore lances capable of devastating charges. Their cavalry¡¯s positioning and distribution were calculated, aiming to leverage their right flank¡¯s strength while maintaining support from the left, creating a formidable threat to our own forces. The Valandians knew well that their forces were outnumbered. Instead of a straight battle line, their formation curved outward, like an archer¡¯s bow, designed to discourage us from attempting an encirclement. The outward curve allowed them to spread their limited numbers more effectively, keeping their sides guarded while forcing our larger force to funnel into their killing zones. Against this, Unquid¡¯s Aserai forces were an impressive display of military might and strategic diversity. Our numbers swelled to around 3,100 strong, and our deployment reflected our advantage in both cavalry and infantry. The Jawwal, the fearless camel-riding warriors of the desert, were at the heart of our formation. Numbering 800 riders, they were split across the field in four parts: two divisions held the center line, while the remaining two flanked on either side. These Jawwal riders, each armed with javelins, were renowned for their skill in mounted warfare and their ability to harass enemy lines with their swift attacks and tactical retreats. On the left flank, Sultan Unquid¡¯s son Dhiyul commanded the troops. Having joined us at the last moment in Quyaz, Dhiyul held the strength of the Sultan¡¯s personal retinue, adding an elite element to our left flank. Here, alongside 200 Jawwal riders, were 100 of Unquid¡¯s most trusted soldiers: Mamluke Palace Guards, Veteran Farris, and Vanguard Farris. This force alone could break through any ordinary line, as the Palace Guards and Farris were trained in close-quarter combat and knew how to handle themselves against even the most heavily armored foes. Dhiyul¡¯s command and the presence of these elite soldiers provided a critical anchor to our left side. In the center, our forces were a blend of cultures and mercenary units, a testament to the broad reach of Aserai influence. Leading the center were the Imperial mercenaries and Valandian mercenaries, 800 and 300 strong respectively, who formed the main force. These seasoned fighters would be the ones to push against the Valandian pikemen and billmen, bearing the brunt of the fight in open battle. To add agility to our central force, two groups of Jawwal riders were strategically interspersed, ready to break formation, flank, or rain down javelins if the opportunity presented itself. Our right flank boasted the sharp-eyed Khuzait mercenaries, numbering 100. These men were expert archers and skilled horsemen, accustomed to the plains and steppes, where they trained to strike from a distance and outmaneuver opponents. The right flank also had its own contingent of Jawwal riders, whose mobility and desert-bred stamina would allow them to circle, flank, and retreat as needed.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Behind our main line was a reserve force consisting of Aserai mercenaries¡ª1,000 strong. Unquid knew well that battles could shift unexpectedly, and the Aserai reserves, combined with the Jawwal riders, were kept close enough to support any weakened part of our line. The reserves stood ready to reinforce any breaches in our formation or to press forward if the Valandians showed any signs of collapse. The placement of each unit was meticulously planned, balancing both strength and versatility. It was a line designed to envelop the Valandians, with the left and right flanks ready to collapse upon them if they showed any signs of weakening. Dhiyul¡¯s elite forces on the left and the Khuzait archers on the right were positioned to ensure that no Valandian cavalry or infantry would find an easy escape or breakthrough. Sultan Unquid had given careful thought to each piece of his army, recognizing the Valandian forces¡¯ unique advantages while planning to overwhelm them through strategic deployment. It was clear that he respected his enemy¡¯s strength and knew their weaknesses well. His goal was not merely to defeat them but to crush them entirely, sending a message that would echo across the empire and beyond. As I looked over the field, studying the positions and strengths of each force, a chill of anticipation ran through me. It was no longer a matter of mere survival or personal gain; this was a clash that would shape the region¡¯s destiny. I saw the determination in the eyes of the Jawwal riders, the hardened resolve of the Imperial mercenaries, and the quiet confidence of Dhiyul¡¯s elite troops. The sun crept higher, casting a harsh light over the armies, and the air grew thick with the scent of sweat, sand, and iron. I tightened my grip on my sword, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. There was no turning back now¡ªthis was the field upon which fate had brought us all, and only one side would leave it victorious.
Troop Name Troop count Position
Jawwal 800 4 units each of 200 troops, 2 in center 1 in each flank
Imperial Mercenaries 800 Center
Valandian Mercenaries 300 Center
Khujait Mercenaries 100 Aserai Right flank
Aserai Mercenaries 1000 Center
Personal Retinue - Mamluke Palace Guard, Veteran Farris, Vanguard Farris 100 Aserai Left flank
Sharpshooters 200 Center
Bilman, Pikemen 400 Center
Voulgier 200 Center
Champion, Vanguard, BannerKnight 300 2 units- 100, 200 troops 100 troops placed on Valandian left, 200 placed on Valandian Right
Note: Aserai left = Valandian Right, Vlandiam left = Aserai Right. As they are facing each other. 48. The Battle Begins As we stood in the reserve lines, the tension around us was like a thick fog, pressing against each breath we took. The scorching sun bore down relentlessly on both armies, casting long shadows across the sandy field. In the far distance, two massive forces were arrayed against each other in a calm yet charged standoff, both sides painfully aware that a single wrong move could spell disaster. Our own forces of the Aserai had the advantage of numbers, their golden armor and desert-tanned faces gleaming under the sun, while the Valandians stood proud and stoic, fewer in number but formidable in formation. From my vantage point in the reserve, I could see the layout of our own forces and the Valandian ranks across the field. The Aserai had stationed themselves in wide formations, stretching across the battlefield, with Dhiyul, Sultan¡¯s son, leading his 100 elite soldiers and Jawwal camel riders on the left flank, prepared to counter any maneuver from Valandian cavalry. Meanwhile, our center was bolstered with mercenaries¡ªImperial, Valandian, and Aserai infantry standing side by side¡ªand additional reserve forces kept on standby to break the Valandian center. At the far right, Jawwal Riders and Khuzait mercenaries held firm, looking eager to join the fray. The Valandian troops had assembled in a slightly curved formation, with 200 elite sharpshooters¡ªPavise crossbowmen¡ªstationed in the center, alongside the Golden Boar mercenaries, who were famed for their resilience in battle. Behind them, the bulk of the infantry¡ªBilmen, Voulgiers, and Pikemen¡ªstood ready, with the most elite of the Valandian cavalry positioned on their right and left flanks. The Valandians had chosen to meet us on an open plain, their sturdy pikes ready to face our cavalry¡¯s charges. It was a bold move, but it would take more than courage to turn the tides in their favor. As the battle began, the Valandian right flank took the first move. I watched as a section of their cavalry, about 200 riders, peeled away to the far right, advancing slowly without drawing too close. The intent was clear: they were attempting to outmaneuver our left flank, possibly to encircle our forces and strike from the side. Dhiyul, sharp-eyed and decisive, responded swiftly. He signaled to his own forces, and our left flank began moving to mirror the Valandians. Our forces shifted smoothly, following the Valandians¡¯ movement across the field. The symmetry of the movements was almost entrancing; both sides were dancing, maneuvering for advantage, yet neither dared to strike first. But tension mounted as the two flanks continued to drift farther from the main battle lines. The Aserai left flank and the Valandian right were moving dangerously close to the edge of the battlefield, stretching their ranks thin as they fought to maintain formation. Dhiyul, the Sultan¡¯s son, kept a close eye on the Valandian cavalry, refusing to let them outflank him. His forces remained vigilant, their focus unyielding, ready to intercept any potential assault. Despite this caution, the desert sun, the ceaseless shifting of positions, and the prolonged tension were beginning to take a toll. The strain on the faces of the men in the left flank¡ªjawwal riders and elite guards alike. Dhiyul, though young, was eager, perhaps too eager, and after a while, his patience wore thin. With a flash of determination, he gave the signal to charge. The left flank surged forward, closing the gap in an instant. The thunder of hooves reverberated across the desert as Dhiyul and his men rushed headlong toward the Valandian right flank. Their timing was precise, their charge aimed at the heart of the Valandian cavalry, whose numbers were far fewer. Yet, the Valandians did not falter. They tightened their formation and braced for impact, shields and pikes angled forward like a wall of steel.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Meanwhile, the Sultan, watching from the center, saw that the Valandian right flank was now engaged. It was the moment he had been waiting for. With a decisive command, he ordered the center and the right flank to advance. Our forces surged forward, sweeping toward the Valandian left flank and center with a renewed sense of purpose. The battle was now fully underway. The initial volley from the Valandian sharpshooters struck hard, cutting through the first lines of Valandian mercenary infantry. I watched, heart pounding, as men dropped under the deadly rain of bolts, each one striking with unerring accuracy. The Pavise crossbowmen, with their large shields and precise marksmanship, were carving a path through our ranks. A chorus of screams and groans filled the air as soldiers fell, clutching wounds that bled freely onto the desert sands. But the Aserai forces pushed forward, undeterred. Jawwal riders, skilled in hit-and-run tactics, began to harry the Valandian infantry from the sides, launching volleys of javelins and arrows that rained down upon the enemy with deadly precision. The Jawwals moved in a fluid dance, darting in and out, keeping just out of reach of the Valandian pikes. Yet the Valandians, disciplined and steadfast, held their ground, their shields raised and their spears bristling like the spines of a beast. On the far Aserai-left flank, the Valandian cavalry clashed with Dhiyul¡¯s forces. The two sides met in a violent collision of steel and flesh, a chaotic blend of charging horses, swinging swords, and desperate cries. The Valandians fought with a ferocity born of experience, their armored knights pressing forward with sheer brute strength. Dhiyul¡¯s men, however, were agile and quick, darting around the heavy cavalry, landing precise blows where they could. Yet, the elite Valandian cavalry was relentless, their strength pushing our left flank to its limits. Back in the center, the Golden Boar mercenaries had joined the fight, shifting slightly to the right to encircle our forces. They fought with a savage determination, their crossbows cutting down Aserai soldiers with ruthless efficiency. The Golden Boars were a formidable force, their reputation well-earned, and they pressed the Aserai center hard, threatening to break through. But the Aserai center held, bolstered by the sheer number of troops at our disposal. Our right flank, a mix of Jawwal riders and Khuzait mercenaries, launched a relentless assault on the Valandian left. Arrows and javelins rained down upon the Valandian cavalry, forcing them to retreat under the relentless onslaught. The Valandian cavalry tried to regroup, but the nimble Jawwals and Khuzait archers were everywhere, their swift movements and deadly accuracy leaving the Valandians no room to breathe. The Valandian left was beginning to crumble, unable to withstand the constant barrage. From my position in the reserves, I could see the exhaustion etched on the faces of the Aserai soldiers. The march had drained them, and the relentless heat of the desert sun only compounded their fatigue. Despite their fatigue, our men fought on, driven by a fierce determination to protect their lands and uphold the honor of their Sultan. The Sultan¡¯s retinue, the Mamluke Palace Guards and Veteran Farris, stood firm on the left flank supporting the Sultan¡¯s Son, their presence a symbol of unwavering loyalty and strength. As the battle raged on, Sultan Unquid issued a final command: to send in the reserves to the center. Our numbers would overwhelm the Valandian center, breaking their lines and securing victory. We moved forward, our spirits lifted by the knowledge that victory was within reach. 49. Disaster The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, dust, and tension as we prepared to advance into the fray. All around us, the ground was littered with fragments of broken shields, spent crossbow bolts, and the fallen. The relentless hum and hiss of projectiles tore through the air, cutting down men who barely had a moment to react. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, each beat syncing with the echo of our marching feet as we moved to reinforce the center. To our left and right, Aserai and Imperial mercenaries were pressing forward in unison, but the discipline among the ranks was lacking. The various groups of mercenaries were not advancing in a unified line formation, each band of soldiers clustered within their own ranks, seeming almost independent of the overall army. While our strength in numbers was visible, the uneven coordination meant some troops charged ahead while others lagged behind, creating irregular gaps and exposing vulnerable flanks. As I assessed this, I tightened my grip on my shield, feeling the weight of both my armor and the tension of the moment. My gaze caught sight of a few men in other mercenary groups ducking behind their shields just in time as bolts from Valandian crossbowmen punctured the wooden layers, sinking deep into some soldiers¡¯ backs. Those unlucky enough to miss the cover fell to the ground with a sickening finality, their bodies landing in the coarse desert dirt. I was sharply aware of how this disorganized advance left us exposed, our defenses weakened. Seeing an opening, I directed my own men to angle closer to the nearby mercenary ranks, instinctively looking for the added cover of their shields. I gestured to Silvana to position her crossbowmen along a raised cliff nearby that offered some protection from the deadly bolts while giving them an ideal line of sight to the enemy¡¯s front ranks. As we moved, I noticed the faint determination on her face; she wasted no time setting up her men, ensuring they had clear shots at the Valandian soldiers stationed in the center. With a sharp gesture to Leon, I indicated for him to lead our infantry forward. Our men, armed with pikes and shields, pushed ahead as one, pressing toward the enemy line. The sounds of battle around us merged into a chaotic roar¡ªthe clashing of metal against metal, the dull thud of bodies hitting the earth, and the desperate shouts of men steeling themselves against the next attack. As we approached the Valandian ranks, the distance closed quickly, and suddenly we were locked in fierce combat. The Valandian infantry met us head-on, their spears extending like the teeth of a beast, waiting to devour anything that came too close. Our shields pressed together as we advanced, creating a moving wall against the incoming thrusts. The clash of spears hitting shields echoed, each impact reverberating through my arm as I deflected or parried their attacks. The struggle was relentless. Valandian pikemen pushed forward with brute force, trying to drive us back through sheer determination. Their expressions were grim, yet somehow detached¡ªas if they, too, felt the inevitability of their fates but were resigned to die for their cause. Each thrust from their pikes met with resistance, as we countered with our own weapons, our shields braced to absorb the force of the impact. In the midst of this brutal exchange, the constant barrage of insults from the Valandian soldiers reached my ears. I heard them yell "Traitors!" with every shove of their shields, every thrust of their pikes. Their venomous words were directed at the Imperial mercenaries and Valandians fighting against their own. Some of our soldiers visibly faltered at these words, doubt flickering in their eyes as they fought their countrymen. The power of those insults¡ªtraitors, cowards¡ªcut deep, weakening morale for some. But for others, it only fueled their determination, a fire lit beneath them to prove themselves. While our center continued to press hard against the Valandian front, something strange was happening in the ranks opposite us. Over by the left flank, where Sultan Unquid¡¯s elite soldiers clashed with Valandian cavalry, I noticed a shift in their movement¡ªa coordinated maneuver that hadn¡¯t been anticipated. I squinted through the dust and chaos to see the Valandian cavalry breaking off, leaving only half their force to hold our left flank at bay.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. It took only moments for the realization to hit me: the remaining Valandian cavalry had set their sights on the Sultan. In an audacious gambit, they were charging past our left flank, threading through an opening that had gone unnoticed, making a direct line toward Unquid. A sense of horror clutched my gut as I saw the Valandian knights¡ªregal and merciless¡ªlower their lances, their armor glinting in the midday sun as they thundered toward the Sultan¡¯s position. Sultan Unquid, positioned his personal retinue and Jawwal riders on his left flank, and sent reserved forces to the center. He hadn¡¯t expected the Valandians to abandon the battle lines and go straight for him. Our Jawwal riders, though excellent at hit-and-run tactics, were ill-suited for prolonged close combat against heavily armored knights. And the Palace Guards stationed at the left flank were away from the Sultan, while fearsome in close-quarters battle, lacked the speed to react to such a swift assault. The Valandians¡¯ strategy was cunning, exploiting our weaknesses with ruthless precision. By pulling back half of their cavalry from the left flank and sending them directly at the Sultan, they had created a sudden and dangerous vulnerability in our formation. I could only watch from my position, helpless as the Valandian knights closed the distance with deadly purpose. In the center, the battle grew more chaotic by the second. Our morale was high, bolstered by the sheer weight of our numbers and the sight of the Valandians being slowly pushed back. The Golden Boar mercenaries, fighting with the fierceness of cornered beasts, were slowly losing ground under the relentless pressure of our soldiers. Despite the Valandian sharpshooters¡¯ efforts to whittle down our ranks, the advantage was visibly swinging in our favor. But with this new turn of events, a creeping sense of dread took hold. The Valandian attack on our left flank continued, splitting our forces as the Sultan¡¯s retinue attempted to regroup and protect their leader. Dust and sand flew up around the fray as the knights smashed into our Jawwal riders, who were desperately trying to hold them off. Our formation was faltering as Sultan Unquid¡¯s guards struggled to intercept the Valandians. I glanced toward Silvana and Leon, catching their worried expressions. Both had paused in their fighting, momentarily distracted by the sudden chaos surrounding the Sultan. I knew what they were thinking¡ªthe Sultan¡¯s life was essential to our cause. If he fell, our army would lose its figurehead, and the chaos could very well tip in the Valandians¡¯ favor. ¡°Focus!¡± I shouted, rallying them back to the battle at hand. We couldn¡¯t afford to let the center collapse, no matter what happened on the flank. I drove my pike into the shield of a Valandian soldier, knocking him off balance before following up with a hard shove. Beside me, Leon and the other mercenaries fought with renewed fervor, driving forward even as the chaos on the flank threatened to spill into our ranks. I gritted my teeth, frustration and helplessness gnawing at me as I continued to push forward. I knew that if we could break through the Valandian center, it would give us the momentum to turn and support the Sultan. But every step forward was met with fierce resistance from the Golden Boar mercenaries and Valandian infantry, their will to fight unbroken despite the odds. Their loyalty, or perhaps their desperation, made them formidable foes. The battle was at a tipping point. The Aserai center was pressing the Valandians hard, but our flanks were under immense pressure. Every choice carried weight; each decision was a gamble in a game of life and death. I raised my shield, bracing myself against a flurry of blows from a Valandian soldier who fought with a vicious tenacity, his pike striking with a relentless force. I parried, countering with a swift strike that sent him reeling, but even as he fell, another took his place, stepping over the body with grim determination. Across the field, I could still see Dhiyul and his Jawwal riders locked in combat with the remaining Valandian cavalry. They had been holding their ground, but the tide was slowly turning against them. The Valandian knights, their armor glinting beneath the desert sun, fought with disciplined brutality, their formation impeccable despite the chaos. I knew that the battle would not be won by brute force alone. Every passing moment felt like an eternity as we fought on, the sands of the desert beneath us stained red with blood. I was acutely aware of the stakes¡ªof the lives hanging in the balance and the fragility of victory The battle was far from over, and the cost of failure was unthinkable. 50. Stalemate The ground beneath me trembled as hooves thundered in the distance. I turned my gaze to see what had everyone¡¯s eyes drawn wide¡ªfifty heavily armored Valandian cavalrymen breaking from their unit with terrifying purpose, their lances glinting in the unforgiving desert sun. Their path was unmistakable; they were aiming directly for Sultan Unquid. The realization struck hard, and panic rippled through the ranks of the Aserai elite. I saw the Sultan himself, still atop his imposing horse, stiffen as the incoming cavalry charged with lethal intent. His personal retinue the part which was with him quickly tightened their formation, shields locking, ready to absorb the blow. But the ferocity of the approaching knights was palpable, a wave of iron and death that would not be so easily stopped. Unquid¡¯s eyes darted from the advancing cavalry to his troops scattered across the battlefield. I could see the weight of the decision he had to make. And then he chose. ¡°Fall back! Protect the Sultan!¡± One of his senior guards barked the order as Unquid wheeled his horse around, turning away from the center of the conflict. His elite troops formed a protective wedge around him as they moved, shields braced and spears angled defensively. The sand kicked up in clouds beneath their feet as they began their retreat, creating a screen of dust that obscured their movements. Unquid¡¯s gaze flickered back once¡ªjust once¡ªbefore he disappeared behind the protective barrier of his men, his expression betraying a mix of rage and resignation. The sight of their leader¡¯s retreat sent shockwaves through the Aserai ranks. Mercenaries who had fought with grim determination suddenly hesitated, glancing nervously at one another. The bond between mercenary and employer is one built on trust, profit, and reputation. Seeing their employer abandon the field shook that fragile bond. Whispers of doubt spread like wildfire. Men began to weigh the value of their lives against the coins they were promised. Many chose life. It started slowly at first¡ªan Imperial mercenary here, a Valandian crossbowman there, edging back step by step. Then the retreat gained momentum. Whole units began to break formation, dropping any pretense of coordination. Their withdrawal was a chaotic scatter, a desperate scramble to escape the reach of Valandian spears and bolts. Men threw down their shields, casting aside any weight that would slow their flight. Their faces, once set with resolve, now reflected only fear. I felt a pang of despair as I watched. The battle was unraveling before my eyes. On the right flank, where Khuzait mercenaries and Jawwal riders had thus far harried the Valandian cavalry with relentless hit-and-run tactics, the situation took a sharp turn. The Khuzait mercenaries, seeing an opportunity for personal gain, abandoned their posts entirely. They broke off from the battle and raced toward the Valandian camp, a glint of greed in their eyes. Their movement was unmistakable¡ªa full-on rush to loot. Without their support, the Jawwal riders, skilled at evasion but not prolonged engagement, found themselves dangerously exposed. The realization hit them quickly, and like leaves before a desert wind, they scattered, retreating toward the safety of the nearby castle. In the center, our forces pressed on, unaware that the battle was slipping from our grasp. Aserai and Imperial mercenaries fought side by side, driving forward with a desperate energy. The Valandian infantry, their formation thinning but not yet breaking, stood resilient. Insults and curses flew between the lines, and I could hear Valandian soldiers sneering at their countrymen among our ranks, calling them traitors and worse.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The tide of battle shifted again when the Golden Boar mercenaries, who had drifted slightly to the right flank, suddenly found themselves vulnerable. Dhiyul, the son of the Sultan, saw the opening. Leading what remained of his contingent with ferocious determination, he struck hard at the Valandian cavalry¡¯s weakened right flank. The clash was thunderous. Swords rang against shields, and lances splintered upon impact. Dhiyul¡¯s men, exhausted from the march and the fighting, fought with the desperation of cornered beasts. Blood sprayed as steel met flesh, and for a moment, it seemed as though Dhiyul¡¯s gamble might pay off. The Valandian knights, the pride of their force, were now caught between Dhiyul¡¯s relentless assault and the Aserai infantry holding the center. Their formation buckled, and the once-disciplined cavalry found itself on the defensive. I saw Dhiyul himself, clad in intricate armor that glimmered despite the blood and grime, cut through enemy ranks with a ferocity that left no doubt of his lineage. His sword rose and fell, a blur of motion, as he barked orders to his men. Slowly, inexorably, the Valandian right flank began to crumble. In the midst of this newfound hope, disaster struck. The fifty cavalrymen who had broken off to pursue the Sultan were recalled. Valandian trumpets blared, signaling their retreat from their pursuit. As they wheeled around, their momentum shifted, and they galloped back toward the battle. The ground trembled with their approach, and Dhiyul¡¯s weary troops, already fighting on the brink, could see their doom hurtling toward them. ¡°Retreat!¡± Dhiyul¡¯s voice rang out, heavy with regret. He knew that to stay would be to court annihilation. He signaled his men to pull back toward the castle, their withdrawal covered by a rear guard that fought with the tenacity of those who knew they were buying precious moments for their comrades¡¯ escape. The Valandians, meanwhile, had problems of their own. The Khuzait mercenaries had reached their camp and were tearing through supplies, setting tents alight and seizing whatever they could carry. Smoke billowed into the sky, a cruel banner marking the cost of distraction. Seeing this, many Valandian soldiers broke off from the main fight, rushing back to defend their camp and reclaim their precious supplies. The battlefield, once a place of coordinated strategy, devolved into chaos and disarray. As I fought in the center, surrounded by the cacophony of battle, I felt the momentum slip. Our numbers were dwindling, and the mercenary groups, seeing no profit in a lost cause, were making their exits. I caught a glimpse of Leon, his face streaked with sweat and blood, rallying what remained of our forces. Silvana¡¯s crossbowmen were still perched on their vantage point, loosing bolts with practiced precision. But even their efforts couldn¡¯t turn the tide forever. Valandian and Aserai bodies littered the ground, a grim testament to the ferocity of the battle. Some mercenaries, seeing that the conflict was all but over, began to scour the field, looting the dead to cover their expenses. The clinking of coins and the ripping of armor straps became the new soundtrack to the battlefield, a harsh reminder of the mercenary¡¯s code: survival and profit above all. The battle was done. There was no victor here, only survivors. The sand drank deeply of blood, and the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows over a field that had known too much death. I stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily, my heart heavy with the weight of what had transpired. We had come so close to victory, only to see it slip through our fingers. But this was not the end. Not yet. I turned my gaze toward the horizon, where the castle walls offered the promise of sanctuary, and resolved to fight another day. 51. Epilogue - Blood and Banner The battlefield stretched before me like a canvas of carnage, painted with blood, sweat, and the torn remains of battle standards. Bodies lay where they had fallen¡ªsome clad in heavy armor, others in nothing but tattered cloth, their lives extinguished in moments that now seemed frozen in time. The scent of iron and charred wood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the distant cries of the wounded and the sounds of scavenging. Our victory had slipped through our grasp, and now, the field was a mess of chaos, desperation, and greed. With Sultan Unquid¡¯s retreat, many of the mercenaries¡ªboth Aserai and Imperial¡ªhad shifted their priorities. There was no honor left to claim, only the chance to survive and profit. I watched as groups broke off, sifting through the dead and dying, looting weapons, armor, and anything of value. A grim reality, but one we all understood. The spoils of war were both a prize and a necessary burden to cover the losses and debts of battle. I moved cautiously through the battlefield, my eyes scanning for anything useful. Leon and a few of our recruits, bloodied but alive, trailed behind me. Silvana and her crossbowmen had regrouped, keeping a wary eye on any who might challenge us for our findings. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on me, but I pushed it aside. There was still work to be done. As I bent to pry a finely crafted dagger from the hand of a fallen Valandian soldier, something else caught my attention¡ªa faint glow, just beyond a pile of splintered shields and twisted pikes. It was subtle, almost like a flicker of torchlight, but unmistakably there. I straightened, my pulse quickening. The light called to me, pulling me through the debris as if an unseen force was guiding my steps.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The glow emanated from a shattered banner, its tattered fabric draped over a broken staff. The banner was unlike any I had seen before¡ªdeep crimson with intricate golden patterns that shimmered in the dying light of the setting sun. As I stepped closer, the glow intensified, and I felt a pull deep within my chest. I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly, and grasped the torn banner. The moment my skin touched the fabric, a surge of energy coursed through me. My vision blurred, and for a heartbeat, the battlefield fell away. I was standing in a void, weightless and suspended, as if the world had ceased to exist. Then, as suddenly as it came, the moment passed. The battlefield returned, and I was back, kneeling with the banner in my hands. A notification flashed in my mind, a familiar yet jarring intrusion into reality: *You have found an unclaimed torn banner to be used as the material for the banner. Add your blood to forge your banner and complete the tutorial.* I looked down at my arm, where a shallow wound from earlier in the battle still oozed blood. Every decision, every drop of blood, was real. But I had come too far to turn back now. I pressed the wound against the banner, letting my blood seep into the fabric. The crimson stain spread, merging with the glow, until the entire banner pulsed with light. A flash of white, blinding and pure, erupted from the banner. It surrounded me, and though I instinctively expected shouts or gasps from those around me, there was nothing. No one else seemed to see it. The light enveloped me completely, warm and reassuring. When it faded, the banner was whole once more, the fabric pristine and vibrant. It hummed with power in my grasp, a symbol of something far greater than myself. This chapter marks the end of first Volume "Tutorial". 52. Volume 2 Ch1 - Main Quest Main Quest The aftermath of the battle left a bitter taste, even though we had survived. For a force as overwhelming as ours, the result was anything but satisfying. Victory had slipped through our fingers like grains of desert sand. Sora and I were sitting by a low-burning fire in the corner of our camp, the light from the candle casting long shadows on her face. She seemed unusually pensive, her usual sharp demeanor softened by the weight of reflection. "Do you know what went wrong?" she asked, breaking the silence. I looked at her, unsure if it was a rhetorical question. "I thought we had the advantage. Superior numbers, better positioning..." I trailed off, realizing how hollow those words sounded now. Sora let out a sigh. "It¡¯s not just about numbers, Augustus. It seems like the Valandians didn¡¯t expect Sultan Unquid to respond so quickly. Either they underestimated him or received bad intelligence about our army''s position. Marching on the castle near Quyaz was a gamble, and for a while, it looked like they¡¯d lose that gamble." She paused, her fingers tracing patterns in the sand. "But even with the advantage we had, we were unprepared for a real fight. The lack of coordination among our forces was glaring. The Khuzait mercenaries abandoning their positions to loot the Valandian camp¡ªthat alone cost us dearly. If they¡¯d hit the center instead, we could have crushed the Valandian infantry." I nodded. "And committing the reserves too early didn¡¯t help. The Sultan was desperate to end the battle quickly. That move backfired when the Valandians launched their counterattack." Sora smiled faintly. "You¡¯re learning. Still, for us, this battle was profitable. The spoils alone made it worthwhile." The aftermath of the battle had been chaotic, but our foresight paid off. Sora had suggested selling our looted equipment in Sanala rather than Quyaz. Her reasoning was simple: Quyaz¡¯s market would be flooded with surplus armor and weapons from other mercenaries and soldiers. Sanala, farther east, was relatively untouched by the recent events and would offer better prices. We had barely arrived in Sanala when rumors of Sultan Unquid''s defeat began circulating. The local governor, keen to bolster his defenses against any potential Valandian incursion, bought up our weapons and armor at premium prices. The governor¡¯s desperation became our fortune. I couldn¡¯t help but admire Sora¡¯s tactical mind. "That idea of yours¡ªselling in Sanala instead of Quyaz¡ªwas brilliant," I told her as we walked back to our rented quarters. She shrugged, a small smirk playing on her lips. "You¡¯re too generous with your praise, Augustus. It was just common sense." "No," I countered. "It was the strategy. And it¡¯s one of the reasons we¡¯re doing so well here." That evening, I made my rounds through the camp to check on everyone. Nathanos was sitting with his siblings, Alea and Phasos, the three of them sharing a quiet meal. Seeing their smiles warmed my heart. It had been a while since they had a moment of peace. Silvana and Leon were chatting animatedly with the other recruits, the firelight catching the gleam of their recently cleaned weapons. Despite the losses the Aserai forces had suffered, my group was in great shape due to the fact that for most of the duration, our group was in reserve.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Satisfied, I slipped away to a quieter corner of the house we had rented. It was a small room, sparsely furnished, but it offered privacy. Sitting on the rough wooden floor, I opened the system menu. New skills and quests awaited me. The glowing text of the main quest felt like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty: Main Quest - Collect and Reforge the Dragon Banner Hint: Talk to Arzagos and Istiana. The words stirred a faint memory from a game I¡¯d played long ago with my father. I remembered the objective: collect three pieces of a banner to forge it anew. But the locations of these pieces were hazy in my mind. Battania and the Western Empire. That much I remembered. But going back to those regions now, especially after fleeing to Aserai lands, seemed like a dangerous prospect. For the time being, staying here made the most sense. The demand for mercenaries was high, and our unique position¡ªspeaking the Aserai language fluently¡ªput Nova above other groups. Next, I turned my attention to the new skills I could choose. The system presented me with several options, each more enticing than the last.

Tactics Options

  • Loose Formations: -10% damage from archers if troops are set in loose formation.
  • Tight Formations: +10% damage to cavalry if troops are in tight formation.
Both options had their merits, but I thought back to the battle. The Valandian sharpshooters had caused significant damage with their bolts and the Banner Knights completely shifted the tides of war so both of these options were tempting. Leadership Options
  • Raise the Meek: +4 experience every day to tier 1 and tier 2 troops.
  • Combat Tips: +2 experience every day to all troops.
The first option seemed ideal for building a stronger foundation for our newer recruits. Training rookies into capable soldiers quickly was essential.

Trading Options

  • Wholesaler: Increase profits when buying or selling in bulk.
  • Appraiser: Appraises the prices of tradable items.
Sanala¡¯s market experience made the choice clear. Being able to identify profitable trades would be invaluable.

Steward Options

  • Frugal: Hiring costs reduced by 20%. Daily wages reduced by 5%.
  • Warrior¡¯s Diet: No discontent when serving a single type of food continuously. -10% food consumption for troops.
Given our group''s growing size, reducing costs seemed like the better choice. Frugality would ensure our resources lasted longer. After making my selections, I leaned back against the wall, staring at the flickering flame of the lantern. The events replayed in my mind. The battle may not have ended in victory for the Aserai, but it had been a success for Nova. Our recruits were safe, we had earned enough to sustain us for weeks, and I also forged a banner accidentaly while trying to loot the fallen troops, although the banner didn¡¯t have a tremendous statistical impact still it filled me with motivation. Squire¡¯s Banner +5 increased speed to mounted troops. The system had opened doors I never could have imagined. But the choices it presented were mine to make. With every skill I selected and every step I took, I was shaping not just my fate but the future of Calradia itself. 53. V2C2- More like a Family The air in Sanala carried a mixture of scents¡ªspice, sand, and a faint hint of sweat that clung to the city¡¯s bustling streets. Even though the sun was dipping below the horizon, the warmth of the day still lingered, radiating from the sandstone buildings that formed a labyrinth of narrow alleys and vibrant market squares. Merchants called out to passersby, their voices blending into a symphony of languages that filled the evening air. The smell of freshly baked flatbread mingled with the aroma of roasted lamb and cumin, creating a tapestry of sensory impressions that could only belong to Aserai lands. As I wandered through the streets, the weight of our situation settled heavily on my shoulders. The aftermath of Sultan Unquid¡¯s retreat left more than just a void in our coffers¡ªit left a question mark over our future. We had no employer, no long-term plan, and no guarantee of stability. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, Nova was thriving in its own way. The members of our group showed resilience, a determination that mirrored my own. But determination alone wasn¡¯t enough to keep us afloat. We needed funds, and more importantly, we needed direction. Although our group was technically still under contract with Sultan Unquid, his retreat during the last battle left that agreement meaningless. Contracts depended on trust and mutual benefit, and the Sultan had failed to uphold his side of the bargain. Not only had he fled, leaving his troops and mercenaries to fend for themselves, but we hadn¡¯t even received an advance payment. A mistake on my part, I admitted bitterly. I should have insisted on some upfront denars to ensure we weren¡¯t left high and dry. Thankfully, the equipment we looted from the battlefield proved invaluable. The surplus armor and weapons fetched a good price when sold to the governor in Sanala, leaving us with enough funds to sustain the group for some time. However, the experience highlighted a glaring issue: our need for a steady employer. Mercenary work without a contract was nothing but organized drifting. As I paced in the rented quarters, thinking of our next move, I couldn¡¯t help but reflect on my growing skillset. The abilities I¡¯d acquired after leveling up certain attributes felt crucial for our survival. It became clear to me that carefully planning my development would be vital. Leadership, charm, and tactics stood out as attributes that could shape not just my personal growth but the future of Nova. Specializing in these areas would allow me to command more effectively, secure better contracts, and outmaneuver opponents on the battlefield. With all that in mind, our primary objective was clear: finding a new employer. The next morning, the streets of Sanala were alive with activity. The sun cast its golden light over the city, highlighting the intricate carvings that adorned the walls of ancient buildings. Merchants lined the roads, their colorful tents and carts creating a chaotic mosaic of sights and sounds. The aroma of spices¡ªcinnamon, saffron, and cardamom¡ªfilled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of dried herbs hanging in bunches. As I moved through the crowd, I overheard snippets of conversation from caravan owners. They spoke of danger on the roads, of the Empire¡¯s patrols growing more aggressive, and of the ever-present threat of bandits. Their voices carried a mix of frustration and desperation, and I couldn¡¯t help but linger, listening for any potential opportunities. One man, his face lined with worry, gestured emphatically as he spoke to a fellow trader. ¡°The road to the Western Empire is too dangerous,¡± he said. ¡°The patrols won¡¯t hesitate to confiscate goods¡ªor worse.¡± His companion nodded grimly. ¡°They¡¯re desperate. But if I don¡¯t sell this cargo, my family will starve. I just need a group strong enough to get me through.¡± Their plight was a reminder of the harsh realities of this world. Escorting caravans was a potential avenue for income, but the risks were high, and their requirements were steep: at least thirty well-equipped men, capable of handling anything the road might throw at them. Nova wasn¡¯t there yet, but the idea planted a seed in my mind. With the right recruits, we could grow stronger, and more capable. Over a meal that afternoon, I discussed the idea with Silvana and Leon. That we needed some scouts in our party if we wanted to take some caravan contracts. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I need both of you to look for capable riders in the city,¡± I told them. ¡°They need to be skilled, reliable, and preferably not the type to run at the first sign of trouble. Whether they¡¯re temporary hires or permanent additions, that¡¯s up to you.¡± Leon smirked, leaning back in his chair. ¡°You make it sound easy. Good riders don¡¯t come cheap, boss.¡± Silvana raised an eyebrow, her tone light but teasing. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Augustus. I¡¯ll ensure we don¡¯t end up with another Leon on the team.¡± The group chuckled, Leon included. ¡°Hey, I might not be the best, but I¡¯ve lasted this long, haven¡¯t I?¡± he shot back with a grin. I couldn¡¯t resist a quip. ¡°True, but the bar¡¯s low. Just make sure anyone you find isn¡¯t worse than you.¡± The laughter eased the tension in the room, and I sent them off with the task. The days that followed were a blur of activity. Silvana and Leon scoured the city for recruits, their efforts yielding a handful of promising riders. Nathanos continued to train the newer members, his disciplined approach earning him the respect of the group. And Abda, ever diligent, was deep into her research, her makeshift workstation in the courtyard a hub of activity. When Nathanos first joined, he had been cautious and reserved, always keeping his siblings close. He had reason to be wary, given the hardships he¡¯d faced. But now, seeing how we treated Alea and Phasos, he had grown more comfortable. Watching him teach his brother how to handle a wooden practice sword while his sister laughed was a small but rewarding reminder of why I led this group. Timothy, on the other hand, was still adjusting to his new role. After losing his arm, he¡¯d struggled to find purpose within Nova. I had assigned him to work with Abda, our new medic, hoping it would give him direction. To my relief, it seemed to be helping. That evening, Timothy approached me, looking hesitant. ¡°Augustus,¡± he began, fidgeting with his tunic. ¡°Abda¡¯s been working on some research. She wants to develop a new medicine, but she needs around three hundred denars for supplies.¡± He hesitated, then added, ¡°I know I have no right to ask, but¡­ this could be useful for the group. She¡¯s shy and wouldn¡¯t bring it up herself, so I thought¡ª¡± I interrupted him with a smile. ¡°Timothy, it¡¯s fine. If her research could benefit us, I¡¯ll consider it. Just have her tell me what she¡¯s working on. If our budget allows, I¡¯ll happily allocate the funds.¡± Relief washed over his face, but I wasn¡¯t done. ¡°Also, you should be the one to give her the news. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll appreciate hearing it from you.¡± A small smile broke through his nervous demeanor. ¡°Thank you, Commander.¡± Timothy blushed, muttered something about needing to check on supplies, and hurried off. I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. He was growing closer to Abda, and seeing him happier than he had been in weeks warmed my heart. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The faint chirping of crickets filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of the city. That night, I sat with Sora, updating her on the day¡¯s events. We talked about Timothy¡¯s progress, Nathanos¡¯s growing comfort with the group, and Silvana and Leon¡¯s recruitment efforts. Sora listened intently, her sharp mind picking up on details I hadn¡¯t considered. ¡°You¡¯re building something strong here, Augustus,¡± she said softly. ¡°Even in the chaos of this world, you¡¯re creating a family. That¡¯s rare.¡± Sora nodded, her gaze distant. ¡°He¡¯s been through a lot. They all have. But you¡¯ve given them something to believe in, Augustus. That¡¯s not something many leaders can do.¡± Her words carried a weight that I wasn¡¯t sure I was ready to bear. Nova was more than just a mercenary group now¡ªit was a family. And families looked out for each other, no matter what. Despite the challenges we faced, there was a sense of purpose within Nova that kept everyone moving forward. The atmosphere was one of quiet determination, a collective resolve to face whatever lay ahead. And as I watched the members of my group go about their tasks, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a flicker of hope. Nova had come a long way, but there was still so much more to achieve. Together, we would carve out a place for ourselves in this world, one step at a time. 54. V2C3 Titles of Command The morning carried with it the dry, warm breeze of Aserai lands. The sun rose steadily, bathing the sandstone walls of Sanala in golden hues as the city buzzed with its usual vibrancy. Merchants prepared their wares for the market, their calls carrying through the air alongside the faint scent of spices and freshly baked bread. For us, however, the morning marked the start of a new chapter¡ªa solidifying of our group¡¯s structure and our next steps toward securing stability. Silvana and Leon had spent the better part of two days searching for recruits capable of acting as scouts. The bustling streets and myriad taverns of Sanala offered a wealth of potential hires, though sifting through them was no easy task. Finally, their efforts bore fruit. I stood in the courtyard of our rented quarters as a small line of recruits, ranging from wiry young men to weathered riders, awaited my inspection. The first man to step forward was a middle-aged rider with a face weathered by countless days under the harsh sun. His posture was confident, and the faint smell of leather and horse sweat clung to him. He introduced himself as Jalil, boasting a decade of experience with the Jawwal riders. ¡°Show me your mount,¡± I said, gesturing toward the stables. Without a word, he led me to a sleek desert horse, its coat gleaming in the sunlight. The animal¡¯s calm demeanor and strong frame told me Jalil knew how to care for it, a promising sign. The next few recruits were less impressive. One man couldn¡¯t hold his tongue about how his speed would outmatch anyone in Calradia, yet his horse looked malnourished and poorly maintained. Another seemed eager but lacked the confidence and potential necessary to act as a scout under pressure. I dismissed both, offering a curt but respectful farewell. The final recruit, a young woman named Samina, caught my attention. She carried herself with quiet determination, her dark eyes sharp and observant. Her gear was modest but well-kept, and her responses were concise and confident. After a brief demonstration of her horsemanship, I decided she¡¯d be a valuable addition. By the time I finished my inspections, we had secured five capable recruits to act as scouts. They joined our ranks at a wage of ten denars per day, a price they seemed satisfied with. Silvana and Leon stood nearby, watching the proceedings with a mix of pride and relief. ¡°You¡¯ve done well,¡± I told them, nodding appreciatively. ¡°These five will be a solid addition to Nova.¡± Leon grinned his usual roguish demeanor on display. ¡°See? I told you I could find talent. Even if I¡¯ve set the bar low with myself.¡± Silvana chuckled. ¡°Let¡¯s hope they¡¯re better riders than you.¡± Their banter was a welcome reprieve, but I had little time to linger. There was still much to be done. Later that day, I gathered the core members of our group¡ªSilvana, Leon, Nathanos, and a few of our more experienced recruits¡ªfor a meeting. The dimly lit room buzzed with anticipation, the faint smell of oil lamps mixing with the scent of freshly brewed tea that Abda had thoughtfully prepared earlier. Sora and Abda were notably absent; Sora¡¯s fever had left her bedridden, and Abda was keeping watch over her. ¡°Thank you all for coming,¡± I began, my tone firm but calm. ¡°We¡¯ve come a long way, but as we grow, it¡¯s important to establish structure. Titles. Roles. Clear responsibilities.¡± The group murmured their agreement, their faces attentive. ¡°We¡¯ll keep it simple,¡± I continued. ¡°We need commanders for our infantry, cavalry, and crossbowmen. These roles will ensure coordination during battle and give us a chain of command.¡± I turned to Leon first. ¡°Leon, you¡¯ll command our cavalry and scouts. Your primary role will be reconnaissance¡ªgathering intel and keeping us one step ahead of the enemy.¡± Leon¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Commander of the cavalry? Has a nice ring to it.¡± Next, I addressed Nathanos. His imposing presence made him a natural choice. ¡°Nathanos, you¡¯ll lead the infantry. You¡¯ve proven your skill in combat, and I trust you to train and lead the core of our group.¡± He nodded solemnly, his expression unreadable. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re ready.¡± Finally, my gaze settled on Silvana. ¡°Silvana, you¡¯ll command the crossbowmen. Precision is key, and your sharpshooting skills will set the standard for the rest.¡± She smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. They¡¯ll hit their targets.¡± With the roles assigned, I shifted the conversation to our next contract. The dim glow of the oil lamp cast flickering shadows across the room, adding a sense of gravity to the discussion. The air was thick with a mix of anticipation and the faint smell of leather and sweat¡ªa testament to our hard days of preparation. ¡°Our new employer is a merchant named Ameer,¡± I began, meeting the eyes of each person seated around the worn wooden table. ¡°He¡¯s based in Sanala and has recently found himself without adequate protection due to conflicts with the Jawwal riders. They¡¯ve canceled many of their contracts, leaving him in a vulnerable position. That¡¯s where we come in.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. A murmur of understanding rippled through the group. Nathanos leaned forward, his broad frame casting a long shadow. ¡°What¡¯s the pay?¡± he asked, his tone direct but calm. ¡°He¡¯s offering us 400 denars per day,¡± I replied, pausing for emphasis. ¡°And an additional 2,000 denars upon successfully reaching Danustica in the Southern Empire.¡± At this, Leon let out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°Not bad. That¡¯ll keep us fed and armed for a while.¡± ¡°It¡¯s decent,¡± I agreed. ¡°But the journey won¡¯t be easy. There are risks involved.¡± I straightened, ensuring my voice carried to everyone in the room. ¡°First, we¡¯ll travel to Qasira, where Ameer will purchase the supplies he plans to sell. That¡¯s just the start.¡± I reached for the map spread across the table, its edges frayed from frequent use. Tracing a finger along the route, I continued, ¡°From Qasira, we¡¯ll board ships bound for Vostrum. That stretch of the journey shouldn''t be challenging, as long as the sea remains calm and we avoid attracting attention. Once we reach Vostrum, we¡¯ll have a short march to Danustica.¡± Silvana, ever sharp-eyed, tilted her head. ¡°And the risks?¡± I hesitated, letting the weight of my next words sink in. ¡°The main challenge lies between Qasira and Vostrum. To get there, we¡¯ll pass dangerously close to the Kakdwip Islands. For those unfamiliar, it¡¯s a lawless territory. No central authority. No enforced laws. The islands are teeming with criminals, pirates, and fugitives who¡¯ve fled their kingdoms. It¡¯s a haven for those who thrive on chaos.¡± The room fell silent, save for the faint creak of the wooden floor as someone shifted in their chair. Even Leon¡¯s usual grin faded. Silvana¡¯s brows furrowed, and Nathanos crossed his arms, his expression grim. ¡°Crossing near Kakdwip will require us to stay vigilant,¡± I continued. ¡°We¡¯ll need to keep a tight formation and be ready for anything. Pirates aren¡¯t the only danger there¡ªbandits from the islands sometimes use small boats to board merchant ships. If they catch us off guard, they¡¯ll leave us with nothing.¡± Leon finally broke the silence, his voice light but laced with caution. ¡°So, what you¡¯re saying is, it¡¯s not just a stroll along the beach?¡± ¡°Far from it,¡± I replied, my tone serious. ¡°But the pay is worth the risk, and Ameer has promised to cover the cost of food and supplies for the journey. He¡¯s desperate to reach Danustica with his goods, and we¡¯re his best option.¡± Silvana nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. ¡°It¡¯s a solid contract. But what about contingencies? If things go south in Kakdwip, what¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve considered that,¡± I said, tapping the map for emphasis. ¡°If we face resistance near the islands, we¡¯ll use the ships to outmaneuver any small raiding parties. If it comes to a fight, we¡¯ll need to rely on precision. Crossbowmen like yours, Silvana, will be crucial.¡± She inclined her head, her gaze steady. ¡°Understood.¡± ¡°On land,¡± I continued, ¡°our scouts will play a vital role. Leon, you¡¯ll need to stay ahead of the caravan, identifying potential threats before they can reach us.¡± ¡°Scouts are ready,¡± Leon replied, his grin returning. ¡°We¡¯ll spot trouble before it spots us.¡± ¡°And Nathanos,¡± I said, turning to him. ¡°Your infantry will be our backbone. You''ll lead the defensive line if we¡¯re forced into a confrontation. Keep the caravan protected at all costs.¡± ¡°You can count on us,¡± Nathanos replied, his deep voice filled with quiet confidence. With the plan outlined, I leaned back, letting the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. ¡°This journey won¡¯t be easy, but it¡¯s a chance for Nova to establish itself as one of the most reliable mercenary groups in Calradia. Let¡¯s make it count.¡± The group exchanged determined nods, a shared sense of purpose filling the room. The air felt charged, heavy with anticipation, and the faint aroma of the tea Abda had brewed earlier. The sound of footsteps echoed faintly in the corridor outside, a reminder of the bustling city beyond our walls. As the meeting concluded, Leon leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°You know, Augustus, this sounds like the kind of job that¡¯ll either make us legends or get us killed.¡± I smirked, clapping him on the shoulder. ¡°Then let¡¯s make sure it¡¯s the former.¡± After the meeting, I made my way to my quarters, where Sora was resting. The room was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated her sleeping form, her face pale but peaceful. Abda sat nearby, a book in her lap, her expression one of calm focus. ¡°How is she?¡± I asked, keeping my voice low. Abda looked up, her gaze steady. ¡°She¡¯s stable. Exhaustion and fever from the journey. She needs rest, but she¡¯ll recover.¡± I nodded, relief washing over me. ¡°Good. The last thing we need is our strategist out of commission.¡± Abda offered a small smile. ¡°I¡¯ve given her medicine. She¡¯ll be back to her usual self by tomorrow.¡± For a moment, I lingered, watching Sora¡¯s steady breathing. The weight of leadership felt heavier in moments like these, but knowing I had capable allies by my side made it bearable. ¡°Get some rest yourself,¡± I told Abda. ¡°We¡¯ll be departing in two days, and I¡¯ll need you at full strength.¡± She nodded, her expression softening. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, Augustus. I¡¯ll be ready.¡± As the days passed, our preparations for the journey to Danustica continued. The courtyard of our quarters bustled with activity as recruits practiced formations, loaded supplies, and tended to their equipment. The smell of oiled leather and polished steel filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the city streets. I spent hours training with the recruits, sparring with them, and observing their techniques. Nathanos proved to be an invaluable asset, his experience and leadership commanding respect from even the most headstrong members of the group. Silvana, ever precise, drilled the crossbowmen relentlessly, ensuring they could hit their targets under any circumstance. In quieter moments, I found myself reflecting on the path ahead. The contract with Ameer was a step forward, but it was just the beginning. Nova was growing, but with growth came greater responsibility. The weight of leadership was a constant presence, but it was one I was learning to carry. 55. V2C4 Medicine Shop The day of our departure from Sanala dawned with a golden hue painting the desert sands. The city, still bustling with life even at the break of day, seemed almost reluctant to see us leave. Sora, to my relief, had fully recovered from her fever. She stood among the group, her usual confidence returning, though a faint hint of exhaustion lingered in her eyes. Silvana and Nathanos busied themselves ensuring our supplies were loaded properly onto the caravan, while Leon took charge of inspecting our recruits, ensuring everyone was prepared for the journey. Abda, however, seemed distant. She was quieter than usual, her gaze often drifting to the horizon as though searching for something¡ªor someone¡ªout there in the endless expanse of sand. Her discomfort was palpable, a stark contrast to the optimism shared by the rest of the group. I decided not to press her then, knowing she¡¯d speak when she was ready. We left Sanala with our caravan in tow, moving in a disciplined line. The rhythmic creaking of cartwheels mingled with the occasional neighing of horses and the crunch of boots against the sand. The morning air was cool, a fleeting respite before the heat of the day would bear down on us. The path ahead stretched vast and barren, the horizon shimmering under the relentless gaze of the sun. Sora rode beside me, her expression composed as she scanned the dunes for any sign of trouble. Despite her recovered health, I could tell she was still on edge. Her recent bout of illness had humbled her, reminding her¡ªand all of us¡ªof our vulnerabilities. Leon rode at the front, leading the scouts, his sharp eyes darting across the landscape for any signs of danger. Nathanos marched alongside the caravan, his towering presence offering an unspoken assurance to the recruits. Silvana followed close by, her bow slung across her back, ever ready to respond should trouble find us. It wasn¡¯t long before the heat began to intensify. The sun climbed higher, turning the sand into a reflective sea of gold. By midday, the oppressive heat was unbearable. Thankfully, we came across an oasis¡ªa small but welcome sanctuary amid the arid desert. The water sparkled invitingly, its surface framed by a cluster of palm trees that provided much-needed shade. We stopped to rest and replenish ourselves. The recruits quickly gathered around the oasis, filling their waterskins and splashing water on their faces to stave off the heat. The camels and horses drank deeply, their heavy breaths punctuating the otherwise quiet scene. I found a shaded spot to sit, watching as the group took advantage of the brief respite. It was then that Abda approached me, her expression hesitant. She looked out toward the horizon, her brow furrowed as if wrestling with something deep inside. Taking a seat beside me, she let out a heavy sigh. ¡°Augustus,¡± she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ¡°there¡¯s something I need to tell you.¡± I turned to face her, concern etched on my features. ¡°What is it, Abda?¡± Her hands trembled slightly as she clasped them together, her gaze fixed on the ground. ¡°Going to Qasira¡­ it¡¯s going to bring back memories I¡¯d rather forget.¡± The vulnerability in her voice took me by surprise. Abda had always carried herself with a quiet strength, her knowledge of medicines and calm demeanor making her an anchor for the group. Seeing her like this was unsettling. She took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she continued. ¡°Before I joined Nova, I owned a small medicine shop in Qasira. It was my pride, my livelihood¡­ until it was taken from me. There were merchants there, rivals who couldn¡¯t stand the idea of someone like me succeeding. They burned my shop to the ground.¡± Her words were laced with pain, and I could see tears welling in her eyes. ¡°I barely escaped with my life. Everything I worked for, everything I built, was reduced to ashes. Going back there¡­ I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be able to face those people. I might lose myself, Augustus.¡± I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, meeting her gaze. ¡°Abda, you¡¯re not alone anymore. We¡¯re your family now, and we¡¯ll stand by you no matter what. If going to Qasira brings up those memories, we¡¯ll confront them together. You won¡¯t have to face it alone.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Her lips quivered into a faint smile, though the fear in her eyes remained. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. The journey resumed after our brief rest, and by the time the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and crimson, we reached the outskirts of Qasira. The city loomed ahead, its sandstone buildings bathed in the warm glow of twilight. It was a bustling trade hub, its streets alive with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and the chatter of passersby. Despite the vibrant atmosphere, Abda¡¯s unease was palpable. She stayed close to the caravan, her eyes darting nervously as though expecting to see her tormentors at any moment. The rest of the group remained alert, sensing the tension in the air. We made our way to a designated area near the market square where caravans often set up camp. After ensuring the caravan was secure, I pulled Abda aside. ¡°Show me where your shop used to be,¡± I said gently. She hesitated for a moment before nodding. Together, we weaved through the crowded streets, the scent of spices and freshly baked bread mingling with the more pungent smells of livestock and sweat. Abda led me to a quiet corner of the city, where the remnants of a burned-down building stood as a stark reminder of her past. ¡°This was it,¡± she said, her voice barely audible. ¡°This was my home.¡± We set up camp in a small, shaded courtyard near the market district, a safe distance from prying eyes. While Ameer busied himself negotiating the goods he planned to take to Danustica, Abda and I began gathering information about her rivals. His name was Farad he ran the largest medicine shop in Qasira. Rumors of his ruthless business practices were everywhere. People whispered that they had set fire to Abda¡¯s shop to eliminate competition and that they were now exploiting the city¡¯s reliance on their overpriced remedies. The real breakthrough came when Abda, with her keen understanding of medicine, analyzed some of their most popular products. ¡°This,¡± she said, holding up a vial of syrup, ¡°is nothing but a mix of cheap weeds and chemicals. It¡¯s barely effective, and the long-term side effects¡­¡± She trailed off, her expression dark. ¡°They¡¯re poisoning people for profit.¡± We began spreading the word subtly at first. Silvana and Nathanos spoke to traders and townsfolk, planting seeds of doubt about the brothers¡¯ practices. ¡°If Abda¡¯s shop hadn¡¯t been burned down,¡± they¡¯d say, ¡°we¡¯d still have access to affordable, safe medicine. But now¡­¡± They let their words trail off, letting the locals draw their conclusions. At the same time, Leon and I dug deeper, seeking concrete proof of the brothers¡¯ shady dealings. We bribed a few disgruntled workers from their shop, who confirmed that the ingredients were being used in their products. But even those workers had no idea that these ingredients were actually harmful. Armed with this evidence, we knew it was time to confront them¡ªbut not directly. Instead, we approached a group of local merchants who had their grievances against Farad. ¡°We have proof,¡± I told them, laying out the tainted ingredients and workers¡¯ testimonies. ¡°But we¡¯re leaving soon. If you want justice, you¡¯ll need to act quickly.¡± The merchants didn¡¯t need much convincing. Years of being undercut and bullied by Farad had left them eager for revenge. They agreed to confront Farad publicly, using the evidence we provided to turn the tide of public opinion against them. The next morning, as the sun bathed Qasira in golden light, the marketplace erupted into chaos. A group of merchants, flanked by angry townsfolk, marched to the medicine shop. Cries of ¡°Thieves!¡± and ¡°Poisoners!¡± echoed through the streets as the crowd demanded answers. Abda and I watched from a distance, hidden in the shadows of a nearby alley. Her hands clenched at her sides as Farad appeared, his face pale and defensive. ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing wrong!¡± Farad shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of the accusations. But the merchants were relentless. They laid out the tainted ingredients, the workers¡¯ testimonies, and the inflated prices for all to see. The crowd¡¯s anger swelled, turning into a mob. Abda exhaled deeply, her tension giving way to a quiet sense of satisfaction. ¡°They¡¯re finally paying for what they did,¡± she murmured. As the mob grew, we knew it was time to leave. Ameer¡¯s caravan was loaded and ready, the goods secured for the journey ahead. Before we departed, Abda turned to me. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said simply. Her voice was steady, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She had a small smile breaking through her solemn expression. ¡°I think this is enough. They¡¯ll think twice before trying to hurt anyone else.¡± As our caravan rolled out of Qasira, the echoes of the confrontation still rang through the streets. Abda walked beside me, her head held high. For the first time since I¡¯d met her, she seemed at peace. And as the city faded into the horizon, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of pride¡ªnot just for helping Abda, but for the quiet strength our group had shown. I remembered the purpose for which this group was formed by Mannes. Together, we were more than mercenaries. We were a force for justice, even in the smallest of ways. 56. Tides of Fate Qasira¡¯s bustling port in a symphony of golden hues, illuminated the labyrinth of activity that sprawled before us. Our caravan creaked and groaned as it rolled onto the cobblestone streets, its wheels echoing faintly against the murmur of the early morning crowd. The air was a heady mix of saltwater, fish, and spices¡ªeach scent weaving into the other like threads in an elaborate tapestry, creating a sharp, intoxicating aroma that clung to my senses. And then I saw it: the sea. My breath hitched at the sight of the vast, undulating expanse that stretched beyond the horizon. Waves rolled in a hypnotic rhythm, cresting and falling in an endless dance, their frothy edges kissing the hulls of anchored ships. The rhythmic crash of water against wood was soothing, almost melodic, yet beneath it was an undertone of raw power that both captivated and intimidated me. The shimmering expanse of blue stretched endlessly, its surface catching the light in dazzling patterns as if it held the sky¡¯s secrets beneath its depths. Around us, dockworkers moved with purposeful energy, their shouts forming a chaotic symphony of commands and responses. Men hauled crates brimming with goods, their muscles taut and glistening in the rising sun. Sailors prepared their vessels with practiced precision, the creak of ropes and the snap of sails punctuating their efforts. Above it all, seagulls called out in sharp cries, swooping in wide arcs to dive for scraps or perch momentarily on mastheads. I was transfixed, my eyes locked on the horizon as if trying to comprehend the boundlessness before me. The salty breeze tousled my hair and brushed against my skin, carrying with it a tang of freedom and danger. ¡°You¡¯ve never seen the sea before, have you?¡± Sora¡¯s voice broke through my reverie, soft and tinged with a knowing smile. She stood beside me, her arms folded loosely. ¡°Not like this,¡± I admitted, barely tearing my gaze away. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ alive.¡± Her lips curled upward in a faint smile. ¡°It can be beautiful,¡± she said, her tone shifting to one of quiet caution, ¡°but don¡¯t be fooled. The sea is as dangerous as it is mesmerizing.¡± Her words carried weight, and I could sense an underlying unease in her tone. I turned to her, noticing the way her eyes lingered on the waves as if recalling a memory best left buried. ¡°You¡¯ve traveled the sea before?¡± ¡°Many times,¡± she replied. ¡°Enough to know it doesn¡¯t forgive mistakes. The sea demands respect, Augustus, and those who take it lightly often pay the price.¡± Her words resonated with me, and for a moment, the sea¡¯s grandeur felt heavier, darker, as if it held secrets too vast for comprehension. I nodded, my awe tempered by her warning, but a part of me still marveled at its beauty. Leon interrupted my thoughts, his voice filled with excitement as he joined us. ¡°Look at those ships! Have you ever seen sails so massive?¡± he asked, pointing toward a vessel with dark, billowing fabric stretched taut against the wind. ¡°It¡¯s incredible,¡± I admitted, letting his enthusiasm pull me back to the present. ¡°It¡¯s a merchant ship,¡± Sora explained, her tone more instructional now. ¡°Probably headed for the Southern Empire or beyond. Those sails are designed to catch even the slightest breeze on long voyages.¡± As she spoke, a smaller vessel passed by, its crew shouting in unison as they hoisted barrels onto its deck. The ship rocked slightly with the weight, and I noticed the way the water responded¡ªrippling outward like the surface of a drum. Askar, the ship¡¯s captain, called out from the dock, his voice gruff and commanding. ¡°If you¡¯re done sightseeing, get your people aboard. We set sail at first tide!¡± The urgency in his tone brought us back to reality. I took a deep breath, letting the salty air fill my lungs one last time before turning to the task at hand. The sea awaited us, and with it, the unknown. Our group carefully boarded the merchant vessel, its hull weathered and scratched from countless voyages, a testament to its endurance on the unpredictable seas. The sails, a faded cream color tinged with salt stains and patched in places, fluttered in the brisk wind. It wasn¡¯t the grandest ship in the harbor, but it radiated reliability¡ªa workhorse of the trade routes. The deck creaked beneath our feet as we stepped aboard, the rhythmic groan of wood a reminder of the ship¡¯s age and its many journeys. Ameer had spared no expense in securing this vessel, ensuring his goods would reach Vostrum safely. His choice, while pragmatic, reflected the high stakes of the venture. The merchant himself looked uneasy as he glanced at the crates of spices, textiles, and medicines being secured below deck, his lips moving in what seemed like a silent prayer. The ship¡¯s captain, a grizzled man named Askar, greeted us with the kind of warmth one reserves for a tax collector. His face, a tapestry of sun-darkened wrinkles and a scruffy salt-and-pepper beard, carried the weary sternness of someone who had weathered both tempests and treacherous crews. A faded scar trailed from his left temple to his jawline, partially obscured by his unruly hair. ¡°Stay out of my crew¡¯s way,¡± Askar barked, his voice gravelly and commanding, each word tinged with the distinct accent of a seasoned mariner. His piercing blue eyes flicked over us, assessing in a single glance who might pose a problem. ¡°We¡¯ll get you to Vostrum¡ªif the seas don¡¯t decide otherwise.¡± His tone left no room for negotiation, and I nodded in response. ¡°Understood, Captain. We¡¯ll stick to our side of the deck.¡± Satisfied, he turned to yell at a group of sailors fumbling with the rigging, his booming voice cutting through the chatter and the cries of seagulls overhead. ¡°You there! Stop dawdling like landlubbers and secure those lines!¡± The first few hours at sea passed without incident as the ship glided smoothly away from the coastline. The sails caught the breeze, billowing gracefully, and the rhythmic splashing of waves against the hull became an almost meditative backdrop. For someone like me, who had never set foot on a ship before, the gentle rocking was both alien and strangely soothing. It was a sensation, unlike anything I had experienced as if the vessel were cradled in the arms of the ocean itself. Not everyone shared my sentiment. A few of my recruits, clearly unaccustomed to the sea, clung to the railings with pale faces and clenched jaws. One of them, a burly man named Gavin, looked as though he was regretting every decision that had brought him here. ¡°You alright there, Gavin?¡± I asked, patting his back lightly. He groaned, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯ll feel better when my feet are back on solid ground, sir.¡± Silvana, on the other hand, seemed completely enthralled by the workings of the ship. She moved around the deck with a rare spark of curiosity in her usually stoic demeanor, observing the sailors as they adjusted the rigging or steered the vessel. She paused near the massive wheel, her eyes fixed on the helmsman as he worked the controls with practiced ease. ¡°How does it work?¡± she asked him, her voice tinged with genuine interest. The helmsman chuckled, his hands never leaving the wheel. ¡°It¡¯s all about balance and reading the wind, miss. You don¡¯t steer the ship; you guide it, let it follow the currents where they want to take you.¡± Leon, naturally, couldn¡¯t resist asking questions. He leaned against the railing near a group of sailors, peppering them with queries about navigation, the stars, and the vast expanse of the sea. ¡°How do you find your way when there¡¯s nothing but water?¡± he asked, his voice bright with wonder.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Stars and instincts,¡± a sailor replied, laughing at Leon¡¯s wide-eyed fascination. ¡°The sky¡¯s a map if you know how to read it. But don¡¯t be fooled¡ªit¡¯s as easy to get lost out here as it is to drown.¡± Meanwhile, Abda kept her distance from the bustling activity on deck. She hovered near the cargo hold, her hands resting protectively on the crates of medicines and supplies we were tasked with delivering. Her eyes darted nervously toward the sailors as they moved around her. ¡°If anything happens to this shipment, Ameer will have our heads,¡± she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. I approached her, leaning against the railing beside her. ¡°You¡¯re worrying too much,¡± I said with a small smile. ¡°The cargo is secure, and so are we.¡± She shot me a look, her brow furrowed. ¡°I¡¯m not worried about the crates, Augustus. I¡¯m worried about what¡¯s out there.¡± She gestured toward the open sea, her tone heavy with unease. I followed her gaze, the vast expanse of water stretching endlessly in every direction. The wind carried the faint scent of salt and something briny, a sharp contrast to the earthy aromas I was used to. ¡°What¡¯s out there?¡± I asked, curious. ¡°Pirates,¡± she said bluntly. ¡°Raiders from those lawless islands we¡¯re sailing past. They don¡¯t care about contracts or honor¡ªthey care about gold, and they¡¯ll slit throats to get it.¡± Her words settled over me like a shadow, and for the first time since boarding, the sea felt less like a marvel and more like a menace. I nodded, gripping the railing as I scanned the horizon. ¡°We¡¯ll keep watch,¡± I assured her. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope they don¡¯t find us worth the trouble.¡± Abda didn¡¯t respond, but the worry in her eyes lingered. As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the deck, the ship sailed steadily onward, carrying us closer to both our destination and whatever awaited us in the uncharted waters ahead. By the second day of our journey, the sea seemed to mirror the unease settling over the crew. The once-gentle swells had given way to choppier waters, each wave rocking the ship with growing ferocity. The wind carried a sharp bite now, its cold fingers brushing against my face and cutting through the layers of my cloak. Overhead, the sky was an ominous slate gray, with streaks of sunlight piercing through the thick clouds, casting fleeting glimmers over the restless waves. As we drew closer to the Kakdwip Islands, a sense of tension rippled through the ship. Sailors whispered among themselves, their eyes darting toward the distant silhouette of jagged cliffs that rose from the sea like the teeth of some ancient beast. Even the seasoned among them moved with a heightened sense of caution, their footsteps quick and deliberate as they adjusted the rigging or checked the cargo holds. ¡°They call it the Free City,¡± Captain Askar muttered, his voice low but carrying an edge that demanded attention. He stood at the helm, one hand gripping the wheel while the other gestured toward the looming islands ahead. ¡°But it¡¯s anything but free. Those islands are crawling with raiders, criminals, and men who¡¯ve sold their souls for a handful of coins.¡± His words settled like a weight in my chest. I followed his gaze, squinting against the glare of the sun reflecting off the water. The islands were rugged and wild, their rocky shores broken by patches of dense greenery that spilled down to the coastline. Somewhere among those cliffs and hidden coves lay danger¡ªdanger we couldn¡¯t afford to underestimate. ¡°Stay sharp,¡± the captain added, his tone grim. ¡°They¡¯ll come out of nowhere. They always do.¡± It wasn¡¯t long before his warning proved true. On the horizon, a dark blot appeared against the backdrop of churning waves. At first, it was barely noticeable, just a smudge of black against the shimmering blue. But as I watched, it grew larger, its edges sharpening into the distinct outline of a ship. ¡°A vessel,¡± Leon murmured from beside me, his voice tinged with unease. He leaned over the railing, his sharp eyes fixed on the approaching craft. ¡°Fast one, too.¡± The captain¡¯s expression darkened as he reached for the spyglass hanging at his side. Raising it to his eye, he cursed under his breath. ¡°Black and red sails,¡± he growled, lowering the spyglass with a grim set to his jaw. ¡°Kakdwip raiders.¡± A shiver ran down my spine. The sight of the sails¡ªbold and unmistakable¡ªsent a jolt of adrenaline surging through me. These weren¡¯t just opportunistic bandits; they were seasoned predators, honed by years of preying on vulnerable ships like ours. ¡°Prepare yourselves!¡± Askar barked, his voice cutting through the rising wind like a whip. The crew exploded into action, scrambling to adjust the sails and secure loose cargo. The air was suddenly alive with tension, the once-calm deck transformed into a hive of frantic activity. The raiders¡¯ ship moved with terrifying speed, its sleek hull cutting through the waves like a predator closing in on its prey. The spray of seawater glistened on its bow as it surged closer, each rise and fall of the vessel over the waves bringing it inexorably nearer. I turned to my group, my heart pounding in my chest. ¡°Weapons ready!¡± I shouted, rallying them. Silvana and Nathanos immediately moved into action, gathering the recruits and checking their equipment with practiced efficiency. Leon already had his sword drawn, its blade gleaming dully in the overcast light. Abda, standing near the cargo, clutched a small dagger with trembling hands. Her face was pale, but her eyes burned with determination. ¡°What do we do?¡± she asked, her voice steady despite the fear lurking beneath the surface. ¡°We fight,¡± I replied, gripping the hilt of my sword tightly. The weight of it felt reassuring in my hand, a solid anchor against the chaos around us. ¡°If they board us, we hold them off. We protect the cargo, the crew, and each other.¡± The raiders were almost upon us now, their shouts carried across the waves like the battle cries of wild beasts. I could see them clearly¡ªfigures clad in mismatched armor, their faces hidden behind scarves and helmets. They wielded a motley assortment of weapons¡ªcurved swords, axes, and wicked-looking spears that gleamed menacingly in the dim light. Askar¡¯s voice rang out again. ¡°Archers, to the stern! Ready the ballista!¡± The ship¡¯s small ballista¡ªa crude but effective weapon mounted on the deck¡ªwas swiveled into position. One of the sailors loaded a heavy bolt, his hands moving with practiced urgency. The first volley came from the Raiders. Arrows and bolts whistled through the air, striking the water around us with sharp splashes. A few thudded against the ship¡¯s hull, and one buried itself in the mast with a loud crack. ¡°Shields up!¡± Nathanos shouted, taking command of the recruits. Those with shields raised them, forming a defensive line along the deck. The others ducked behind barrels and crates, using whatever cover they could find. The ballista fired with a deep thrum, its bolt streaking through the air toward the raiders¡¯ ship. It struck their hull with a resounding impact, splintering wood and sending a shower of debris into the water. But the raiders were undeterred. Their ship veered sharply to the side, coming alongside us with alarming precision. Grappling hooks flew through the air, latching onto our railings with a series of heavy clinks. ¡°They¡¯re boarding!¡± Leon yelled, his voice rising over the racket. The first raider leaped onto our deck, his boots landing with a thud. He was met immediately by Nathanos, who swung his sword with the force of a battering ram. The blade connected with the raider¡¯s shoulder, sending him sprawling to the deck. More raiders followed, their shouts filling the air as they clashed with our group. The deck became a chaotic battlefield, the sound of steel against steel ringing out over the roar of the waves. I moved to intercept a raider who had broken through our line, my sword meeting his with a jarring clash. His eyes, wild and bloodshot, locked onto mine as he pressed forward, his blade arcing toward me in a deadly swing. I sidestepped, bringing my sword down in a swift counterattack that caught him across the arm. He cried out, dropping his weapon as blood spattered the deck. Nearby, Silvana fought with a ferocity that belied her small frame. Her crossbow lay discarded at her feet as she engaged a raider with a short sword, her movements precise and calculated. ¡°Hold the line!¡± I shouted, my voice hoarse from exertion. Despite our efforts, the raiders were relentless, their numbers pressing us back toward the ship¡¯s stern. In the chaos, I caught a glimpse of Rich, one of our newer recruits, fighting bravely against two raiders at once. ¡°Rich, fall back!¡± I called, but my warning came too late. One of the raiders¡¯ blades found its mark, slashing across his torso in a brutal arc. He crumpled to the deck, his blood pooling beneath him. A surge of rage and grief shot through me, fueling my determination. With a roar, I drove forward, my blade cutting through the chaos as I fought to avenge my fallen comrade. Finally, the tide began to turn. Askar¡¯s crew joined the fray, their combined efforts overwhelming the remaining raiders. Those who weren¡¯t killed or thrown overboard were subdued, their weapons stripped from them as they were bound with ropes. The aftermath was grim. Rich¡¯s lifeless body was carried below deck, his loss a heavy weight on all of us. The captured raiders, bloodied and sullen, were secured in the cargo hold, their fates to be decided when we reached Vostrum. As I stood on the blood-streaked deck, the sea now eerily calm around us, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of what had transpired. The sea had shown us both its beauty and its brutality, and the cost of our survival was etched in the faces of those we had lost¡ªand those we had defeated. 57. Vostrum- Slave Market The city of Vostrum emerged on the horizon like a vision from another world, its towering sandstone walls reflecting the golden midday sun. As our ship glided closer to the harbor, the city''s grandeur became more apparent. Elegant domes and spires punctuated the skyline, their surfaces gleaming like polished brass. The port teemed with activity, a cacophony of clanking chains, shouted orders, and the occasional laughter of sailors mingling with the distant cries of seagulls. The air was thick with the pungent mix of aromas¡ªspices from the farthest reaches of Calradia, rich textiles being unloaded from merchant ships, and the acrid stench of tar and unwashed sailors. The contrast between the beauty of Vostrum''s architecture and the harsh realities of its bustling port was striking, almost overwhelming. Rich¡¯s death hung over us like a dark cloud, casting a somber shadow on our arrival. His body, carefully wrapped in a makeshift shroud stitched together from the ship¡¯s supplies, was cradled with reverence by Nathanos and Leon. The silence among us was palpable, broken only by the mournful creak of the wooden docks as our feet met solid ground. We moved with purpose but no haste, heading toward a secluded spot outside the city walls. Rich was from Aserai lands, and it was important to us that his burial honored the customs of his people. We found a small patch of earth surrounded by sparse vegetation, where the clear land stretched endlessly under the burning sun. Under the guidance of Sora and Aserai recruits, who seemed to know more about Aserai customs than I did, we prepared his final resting place. Leon and Nathanos dug the grave with solemn determination, their sweat mingling with the dry sand. The wind carried the faint aroma of sage and dust, a bittersweet scent that felt fitting for the moment. Before lowering Rich into the earth, Silvana, standing with her arms crossed and her eyes rimmed red, stepped forward. ¡°He was young, brave, and loyal,¡± she said, her voice steady but heavy with grief. ¡°He fought for us when it mattered most. May his soul find peace.¡± The burial was simple but heartfelt. We recited words of respect, and Abda placed a small vial of herbs near his body¡ªa gesture rooted in her knowledge of medicinal traditions, meant to symbolize healing and protection in the afterlife. As the last handful of sand covered the grave, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of responsibility press harder on my shoulders. Rich had trusted me, and though his death was the result of the dangers we all willingly faced, it didn¡¯t make the loss any easier to bear. After a moment of silence, we turned back toward Vostrum. The captured raiders, now bound and sullen, were followed under close watch by Leon and Nathanos. Their faces were masks of defiance, but their weary steps betrayed their exhaustion. As we passed through the gates of Vostrum, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Inside, the city buzzed with energy, a stark contrast to the solemn quiet of Rich¡¯s burial. The streets were paved with smooth stone, and lined with shops displaying everything from luxurious silks to intricately designed weapons. Hawkers shouted over one another, advertising their wares, while caravans moved slowly through the narrow lanes, their drivers urging pack animals forward with impatient shouts. Yet, beneath the city¡¯s bustling exterior lay a grim undercurrent. Vostrum was infamous for its slave market, and it didn¡¯t take long to see why. The closer we got to the central plaza, the more evident it became. Wooden platforms had been erected in a broad, open area, and atop them stood rows of people in chains¡ªmen, women, and even children. Their expressions ranged from blank resignation to barely concealed fury. The heavy chains around their wrists and ankles clinked with every movement, a stark reminder of their captivity. The air here was different, tainted with despair and cruelty. The sharp tang of iron from the chains mixed with the oppressive heat, and the shouts of traders bartering for human lives echoed through the plaza. It was a sight that turned my stomach, and I wasn¡¯t alone. ¡°This is barbaric... Even children?¡± Silvana muttered under her breath, her hand tightening. Sora, standing beside me, nodded grimly. ¡°It¡¯s a reminder of how far we still have to go. No law-abiding citizen should ever have to go through this¡± she said softly. Her usual fire was subdued, replaced by a quiet anger that simmered beneath the surface. We approached one of the overseers, a heavyset man with a thick beard and a ledger in his hands. He glanced up as we approached, his sharp eyes flicking over the bound raiders behind us. ¡°You looking to sell?¡± he asked, his tone brisk and businesslike. ¡°They¡¯re raiders,¡± I replied, keeping my voice even. ¡°Pirates from Kakdwip who attacked us on the sea.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the moral justification. ¡°Raiders or not, they¡¯re still worth something. How many?¡± ¡°Seven,¡± Leon answered curtly. The overseer stepped closer, inspecting the captives with a practiced eye. He pulled at one man¡¯s arm, checking his muscle tone, then examined another¡¯s teeth like he was appraising livestock. The raiders glared at him, but their defiance was muted by the reality of their situation. ¡°Not bad,¡± the overseer said finally. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a hundred denars per head. Two hundred for the big one.¡± I clenched my fists at the casual way he spoke, as if he were buying horses or grain. But I forced myself to focus. This was the reality of the world we were in, and while I couldn¡¯t change it overnight, I could make sure the denars we earned would go toward our group¡¯s survival. After some haggling, we settled on a fair price and handed over the raiders. As they were led away, their chains rattling loudly against the stone, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that we were complicit in something deeply wrong. ¡°You did what you had to,¡± Sora said quietly, as if reading my thoughts. ¡°I know,¡± I replied, though the words felt hollow. The denars we received were enough to restock our supplies and cover our lodging in Vostrum. But as we moved away from the slave market and back toward the relative normalcy of the city¡¯s bustling streets, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of what we had witnessed. For every raider we sold, there were countless innocents on those platforms, their lives reduced to mere commodities. It was a stark reminder of the darker side of Calradia¡ªa side I knew I couldn¡¯t ignore, no matter how uncomfortable it made me. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting Vostrum in shades of gold and crimson, I found myself standing on a balcony overlooking the city. The sight was breathtaking, but my mind was elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of the choices we¡¯d made and the road ahead. That night, the stars above seemed impossibly bright, their cold light stark against the inky darkness of the sky. I sat apart from the group, the crackling fire a distant sound behind me. My thoughts churned relentlessly, a chaotic swirl of guilt, loss, and uncertainty. Rich¡¯s death replayed in my mind in vivid detail¡ªthe flash of steel, the dull thud of his body hitting the deck, and the stunned silence that followed. It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d seen someone die, but it felt different. He¡¯d been one of us, a part of our growing family. Losing him felt like losing a piece of myself, a wound that no amount of denars or victories could mend. The battle, the chaos of the slave market, the choices I¡¯d made¡ªall of it weighed on me like a leaden chain. Had I done the right thing? Was I leading this group down a path we could survive, or was I simply dragging us toward ruin? I barely noticed Sora approach until she sat down beside me, her presence a quiet but steady comfort. She didn¡¯t speak at first, allowing the silence to stretch between us like a fragile thread. The flickering firelight behind us cast long shadows, her features softened by its glow. ¡°You did what you had to,¡± she said finally, her voice low but firm. ¡°Did I?¡± I whispered, the words catching in my throat. ¡°Rich is dead, Sora. He trusted me, and now he¡¯s gone. And those raiders¡­¡± I trailed off, unable to articulate the gnawing guilt that had taken root in my chest. Sora didn¡¯t respond immediately. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. Her touch was warm, grounding me in the present. ¡°This world is harsh, Augustus,¡± she said, her tone heavy with understanding. ¡°It tests us in ways we never imagined. But you¡­ you¡¯re doing something that matters. You¡¯re giving people a chance¡ªpeople like me, like Abda, like Nathanos. You¡¯re making it better, little by little.¡± Her words struck a chord, reverberating through the tangle of my thoughts. I wanted to believe her, to hold on to the hope she offered, but doubt was a persistent shadow. ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel like enough,¡± I admitted. ¡°Not when the cost is so high.¡± Sora shifted closer, her hand still on my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s never going to feel like enough,¡± she said softly. ¡°But every choice you make, every fight you endure, it matters. You¡¯re keeping us together. That¡¯s more than most can say in a place like this.¡± I glanced at her, her eyes steady and unwavering. There was something in her gaze¡ªa quiet strength, an unspoken trust¡ªthat gave me the smallest sliver of solace. For a while, we sat in silence, the stars above us a silent audience to our unspoken fears and hopes. The fire behind us crackled softly, the sound a gentle counterpoint to the distant hum of the sleeping city. ¡°I just don¡¯t want Rich¡¯s death to be meaningless,¡± I said finally, my voice barely audible. ¡°It won¡¯t be,¡± Sora replied with quiet certainty. ¡°You¡¯ll make sure of that. And so will we.¡± Her words didn¡¯t erase the weight I carried, but they offered a fragile strength, a reminder that I wasn¡¯t bearing this burden alone. As the night deepened and the chill of the desert air settled around us, I felt a flicker of resolve ignite within me. The city of Vostrum lay behind us, its shadows and complexities a testament to the world we were trying to navigate. The road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges, but I knew one thing for certain: I owed it to Rich, to my group, and to myself to keep moving forward. As Sora and I sat together beneath the vast expanse of stars, I silently vowed to honor Rich¡¯s memory¡ªnot just with words, but with action. His sacrifice wouldn¡¯t be in vain. It would be a reminder of what we were fighting for and why we couldn¡¯t afford to falter. The journey was far from over, but as I sat there with Sora¡¯s hand steadying me, I felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in days. 58. Imperial Encounter The sun was setting behind the hills as we finally approached Danustica. Its towering sandstone walls reflected the orange hues of the fading daylight, a stark reminder of the Southern Empire''s wealth and resilience. The air smelled of civilization¡ªbaked clay, roasting meat. It was the kind of bustling city that both invited and overwhelmed newcomers, with traders shouting over each other to peddle their wares and townsfolk hurrying to finish their daily errands. Our caravan rolled through the gates with a satisfying sense of accomplishment. The past few weeks had been grueling, and the road had tested us at every turn. But we were here, alive, and with the goods Ameer had entrusted us with intact. The merchant Ameer, his face lighting up with the prospect of business, didn¡¯t waste a moment. ¡°You¡¯ve done well,¡± he said, clasping my hand firmly. ¡°As promised, your payment awaits. I¡¯ll see to it that it¡¯s delivered by nightfall.¡± It was the kind of praise that felt empty after everything we¡¯d endured. Rich¡¯s absence weighed on us like a missing limb, but his sacrifice ensured our success. I simply nodded, thanking Ameer and letting the rest of the group know the contract was complete. As Ameer disappeared into the throng of merchants and traders, I felt a slight vibration¡ªa faint pulse only I could perceive. It was subtle yet distinct, signaling that the system had something new for me. My heart quickened slightly at the sensation. Excusing myself from the group, I slipped away to find a quiet, secluded corner to examine whatever the system had brought to my attention. I found a small alcove near the city¡¯s outer wall, shielded from the bustling streets by a crumbling archway. The faint noise of the marketplace buzzed in the background, but here, I was alone. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let the system interface materialize in my mind''s eye. The familiar blue screen shimmered into existence, its ethereal glow cutting through the dimming light. Notification: Renown Level Increased "Renown: 52/200 (Stage 1)" A warm sense of accomplishment washed over me as I read the words. This was tangible proof of how far we¡¯d come as a group. From struggling to fend off bandits in the Empire¡¯s outskirts to surviving sea raiders and fulfilling a lucrative contract, Nova was carving its name into the annals of Calradia, one step at a time. The notification expanded, revealing additional information: Stage 1 Benefits Unlocked:
  • Noble Quests: Your renown has reached a level where nobles may approach you with special tasks and contracts. Completing these quests may bring wealth, influence, and deeper alliances.
  • Independent Party Management: You can now assign one of your companions to lead an independent party or Merchant Caravan. You will retain access to monitor their progress, stats, and resources remotely through the system.
The second benefit made me pause. The ability to form an independent party wasn¡¯t something I had anticipated. It opened up possibilities for growth and strategy that I hadn¡¯t considered before. For a moment, my mind raced with ideas. I mentally selected the "Independent Party Management" feature, and a sub-menu appeared. It listed each of my companions, displaying their stats, combat proficiencies, leadership potential, and loyalty levels. Next to each name, there was an "Assign as Leader" option. Nathanos, Silvana, and even Abda were listed. My thoughts immediately went to Nathanos. His combat prowess and growing confidence made him a natural candidate to lead a group. But Silvana¡¯s steady hand and tactical mind also made her a strong contender. Abda, on the other hand, had a knack for building camaraderie among recruits, though her impulsiveness sometimes worried me. The screen also displayed logistics: troop count, supply status, and even morale levels could be tracked in real-time. It was like having an omniscient eye over the operations, a level of control I never thought possible. As tempting as it was to assign someone immediately, I knew this wasn¡¯t a decision to rush. Leadership wasn¡¯t just about skill¡ªit was about trust, and about choosing someone who could represent Nova¡¯s values when I wasn¡¯t there. I let out a sigh, leaning against the wall as the blue glow of the screen faded. The prospect of having an independent party was exciting, but it was also a responsibility. Nova was growing, and with growth came challenges. The mention of "Noble Quests" also lingered in my mind. While the idea of gaining favor with the aristocracy had its appeal, I couldn¡¯t ignore the dangers. Nobles rarely dealt in fair terms, and their games were often deadly. Still, if Nova was to thrive, building alliances with powerful figures might be unavoidable. In the past, we already had received quests from various Nobles So I had thought about how this Noble Quest would be different from what we have been doing thus far.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. I pushed myself off the wall, brushing the dust from my hands. The system was offering us tools to expand, and it was up to me to use them wisely. For now, I needed to focus on the present¡ªthere was still much to do in Danustica, and the group needed me. As I made my way back to the others, the thought of assigning a companion to lead a party lingered. I¡¯d have to speak with them soon and gauge their readiness. But one thing was clear: Nova was no longer just a mercenary band. Some members of our group were visibly exhausted. Timothy and Abda stayed back with the wounded, tending to their needs and ensuring they were comfortable at the inn we had secured beforehand. Sora, still recovering from her illness, excused herself early to rest. I could see the weight of the journey still clinging to her, and I didn¡¯t blame her for wanting a moment of solitude. Others, however, were in high spirits. Leon, always eager to celebrate, approached me with a grin. ¡°Another successful contract, boss. How about we toast to it?¡± It was hard to say no to Leon when he was like this¡ªhis infectious enthusiasm often lifted the group¡¯s morale. I agreed, and soon, about twenty of us were heading toward a tavern recommended by one of the locals. The streets leading to the tavern were lively, filled with the hum of evening activity. But as we drew closer, the atmosphere shifted. The usual rowdiness of drunken revelers was absent, replaced by an uneasy quiet. A group of heavily armed guards stood at the entrance, their stoic expressions deterring anyone who might consider causing trouble. Leon, who had been chatting with a few recruits, stopped in his tracks. His face grew serious as he examined the guards. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unusual,¡± he muttered. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, already sensing something was off. ¡°Look at their uniforms,¡± he said, pointing subtly. ¡°Imperial Legionaries and Menavlions. These aren¡¯t your regular city guards. They¡¯re elite soldiers, likely from the Southern Empire¡¯s army. Whatever they¡¯re doing here, it¡¯s serious.¡± The sight of their polished armor and disciplined stance confirmed Leon¡¯s observation. These were men who had seen battle, not the poorly trained militia often stationed in cities. As we approached the tavern, one of the guards stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. ¡°This establishment is closed to the public for the evening,¡± he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. ¡°Closed?¡± Leon asked, his brow furrowing. ¡°Why? It¡¯s a tavern, not a fortress.¡± The guard didn¡¯t answer, but the way his eyes flicked toward the door told us there was more to the story. We lingered outside, curiosity getting the better of us. A few whispers among the locals nearby provided the missing piece of the puzzle. ¡°She¡¯s inside,¡± one murmured to another. ¡°Who?¡± I asked, stepping closer to the source of the hushed conversation. ¡°The Princess,¡± the man replied, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Princess Ira of the Southern Empire.¡± The name hit me like a thunderclap. Ira was a figure I¡¯d only heard about in rumors¡ªa woman as notorious as she was revered. The stories painted her as a brilliant strategist and a fearsome warrior, but also as someone who lived her life with a defiance that bordered on recklessness. The fact that she was in a tavern, of all places, only added to her legend. ¡°She drinks in taverns?¡± Leon said, his voice a mix of disbelief and admiration. ¡°Apparently,¡± I replied, my eyes fixed on the door. ¡°And with her personal guard stationed outside, it¡¯s clear she doesn¡¯t want company.¡± We stepped back from the tavern, finding a spot nearby to observe from a safe distance. The presence of Ira had sparked a flurry of whispered speculation among my group. ¡°Doesn¡¯t this prove the rumors?¡± one of the recruits asked. ¡°Which ones?¡± I asked, turning to him. ¡°That she¡¯s¡­ different,¡± he said hesitantly. ¡°A noble who doesn¡¯t care for the usual pomp and ceremony. They say she leads from the front in battle and doesn¡¯t shy away from danger.¡± Another recruit chimed in. ¡°And that she has a temper to match her reputation. Some say she¡¯s more feared than her generals.¡± The more I listened, the more I realized how polarizing Ira was. To some, she was a hero who defied expectations. To others, she was a wild card, unpredictable and dangerous. Leon leaned closer to me, his voice low. ¡°What do you think she¡¯s doing here, Augustus? This isn¡¯t exactly a place for royalty.¡± ¡°Maybe she¡¯s not like other royals,¡± I said, though the thought unsettled me. ¡°Whatever her reasons, it¡¯s best we stay out of her way.¡± As much as I wanted to meet her¡ªif only to satisfy my own curiosity¡ªI knew better than to push my luck. Princess Ira wasn¡¯t someone to cross paths with lightly, and I had no desire to test the patience of her guards. ¡°Come on,¡± I said to the group. ¡°Let¡¯s find another place to drink. This city¡¯s big enough for us to celebrate elsewhere.¡± Leon looked disappointed but didn¡¯t argue. As we walked away, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this encounter, however brief, was just the beginning. Princess Ira¡¯s presence in Danustica wasn¡¯t a coincidence, and something told me our paths might cross again. We eventually found another tavern, one that lacked the intrigue of the first but served its purpose. The drinks flowed, and the group¡¯s spirits lifted as they shared stories and laughter. For a while, the weight of the journey seemed to fade, replaced by the camaraderie that had kept us going through the darkest moments. But even as I joined in the laughter, my thoughts kept drifting back to the guarded tavern and the woman inside. Princess Ira was a mystery, one I couldn¡¯t ignore. What was she doing in Danustica, and what role might she play in the larger game unfolding across Calradia? As the night wore on, I resolved to stay vigilant. The Southern Empire was a land of opportunity but also a land of dangers. And if Ira was involved, those dangers might be closer than I realized. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, I allowed myself a brief moment of respite, surrounded by the people who had become my family in this harsh and unforgiving world. Encyclopedia-6- The Empress Rhagaea Pethros, the Empress of the Southern Empire, is a figure steeped in tragedy, resilience, and political acumen. Following the untimely and suspicious death of her husband, Emperor Arenicos, Rhagaea assumed the throne amidst tumult and betrayal. As the widow of the late emperor and mother to the empire¡¯s sole heir, Ira, her reign has been a ceaseless battle for survival against internal dissent and external threats. This is about the intricate web of politics, familial strife, and military conflicts that define her rule. The diadem, symbolizing the legacy of the Calradic Empire, became a burden as much as a crown for Rhagaea. The murder of Emperor Arenicos left her vulnerable. Speculations surrounding the murder added to her woes, with whispers of betrayal within her court. Nobles circled her like vultures, eager to exploit the perceived weakness of a widowed ruler. Some sought marriage alliances, while others feigned loyalty, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Despite these challenges, Rhagaea¡¯s determination never faltered. She strategically cultivated relationships while keeping her enemies close. Her ability to outmaneuver power-hungry nobles demonstrated a sharp political mind. For Rhagaea, survival meant adopting the guise of a fragile widow. Rhagaea¡¯s only child, Ira, epitomizes both the strength and the burden of the Southern Empire. Born into a household that desired a male heir, Ira¡¯s existence was marred by expectations she could never fulfill. Her parents¡¯ disappointment spurred her transformation into a fierce, tomboyish warrior. She trained rigorously in military arts, excelling in strategy and combat. Her defining moment came during the pivotal battle between the Southern and Western Empires. Rhagaea¡¯s forces, on the brink of collapse, were saved by Ira¡¯s fearless charge. Her leadership turned a near defeat into a narrow victory, cementing her reputation as a warrior to be reckoned with. Yet, despite her accolades, Ira struggled with self-doubt, viewing herself as a constant reminder of her parents¡¯ unmet desires for a son. The Southern Empire¡¯s court is a battlefield of its own. Rhagaea¡¯s position as empress is both her strength and her vulnerability. While she commands respect, she is acutely aware that many of her supporters are motivated by self-interest. Several nobles propose alliances, with veiled intentions of marrying into power. Others remain staunchly neutral, observing the political tides before committing to a side. Among these figures, General Pharon stands out as an enigmatic presence. Once a trusted ally, his loyalties waver as he grapples with his ambitions. Rhagaea¡¯s interactions with Pharon are a delicate dance, balancing trust and suspicion. She recognizes that even a single misstep could destabilize her tenuous hold on the empire. Nadea, leader of the Western Empire¡¯s forces, represents an external threat that looms large over Rhagaea¡¯s reign. A brilliant strategist and unrelenting adversary, Nadea¡¯s campaigns against the Southern Empire are as much about challenging Rhagaea¡¯s legitimacy as they are about territorial conquest. The rivalry between the two women is both personal and political, a clash of ideologies and ambitions. Nadea¡¯s discipline and tactical brilliance often place Rhagaea¡¯s forces on the defensive. Yet, it is Ira¡¯s interventions that frequently tip the scales. The empress and her daughter share a complex relationship, marked by mutual respect and an unspoken acknowledgment of their dependence on each other to preserve the empire. Beneath Rhagaea¡¯s composed exterior lies a maelstrom of emotions. The betrayal by her generals and the calculating nature of her nobles weigh heavily on her. The memory of Arenicos¡¯ disdain for her inability to bear a son lingers, adding a layer of personal grief to her political struggles. Rhagaea¡¯s love for Ira is profound, yet it is tinged with guilt for the societal expectations she has unwittingly imposed on her daughter. In moments of solitude, Rhagaea reflects on her journey¡ªthe sacrifices she has made, the enemies she has outmaneuvered, and the fragile alliances she must maintain. These moments of introspection humanize her, revealing a ruler who is as much a mother and a widow as she is an empress. The empire¡¯s unity hinges on the delicate balance between Rhagaea¡¯s political acumen and Ira¡¯s military prowess. Together, they form a formidable pair, embodying the duality of respect and fear. While Rhagaea commands the admiration of her people through her leadership, Ira instills discipline and loyalty through sheer force of will.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. However, this balance is precarious. External threats from Nadea and internal dissent among the nobles create a volatile environment. The question of succession further complicates matters. While Ira¡¯s capabilities are undeniable, her unconventional demeanor and tomboyish nature challenge traditional notions of leadership, causing ripples of unease among the court¡¯s conservative factions. At the heart of Rhagaea¡¯s struggles lies the battle for legitimacy. The Southern Empire¡¯s citizens are divided in their support. Some believe in her hereditary claim, while others question the viability of a female-led monarchy. Rhagaea¡¯s ability to inspire loyalty among her people is tested repeatedly, as she balances the demands of governance with the realities of war. Ira¡¯s role in this battle is equally significant. Her actions on the battlefield often serve as a rallying cry for the troops, bolstering morale and reinforcing the empire¡¯s strength. Yet, her unorthodox approach to leadership sometimes alienates potential allies. The interplay between Rhagaea¡¯s diplomacy and Ira¡¯s force of arms is a defining aspect of their reign. As Rhagaea looks to the future, she is acutely aware of the challenges that lie ahead. The Southern Empire¡¯s survival depends on her ability to navigate the treacherous waters of court politics, counter external threats, and secure her daughter¡¯s position as heir. While the path is fraught with danger, Rhagaea¡¯s resilience and Ira¡¯s determination offer a glimmer of hope. The legacy of Rhagaea Pethros is one of strength in adversity, a testament to the power of perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds. Her story, intertwined with that of her daughter, Ira, serves as a reminder that leadership is not defined by gender but by the ability to inspire, strategize, and endure. Extra Content - The throne room of the Southern Empire bathed in the dim light of flickering torches, felt colder than ever. It was a cruel irony, I thought, that a room designed to project power now mirrored the hollowness I felt inside. The banners of the Pethros clan hung high, their golden embroidery catching faint gleams of light, a stark contrast to the shadows pooling beneath them. Shadows that seemed to stretch longer with each passing day. Rhagaea Pethros, Empress of the Southern Empire, mother to Ira, widow to Emperor Arenicos, sat at the throne, her back straight, her expression carved in marble. No one could see the weight pressing down on her shoulders¡ªexcept, perhaps, me. I¡¯d been privy to the Empress¡¯s moments of vulnerability, though she rarely let them surface. Today, the council chamber was empty save for a select few. The nobles who had stayed loyal to her claim filled the room, though their loyalty was as brittle as dried parchment. They bowed their heads as she began to speak, but their eyes told a different story¡ªcalculating, probing. Each one saw an opportunity, not an empire. "Gentlemen," Rhagaea began, her voice carrying the weight of command, "the border skirmishes with the Western Empire cannot be ignored any longer. General Pharon, what news from the frontlines?" Pharon, a man whose loyalty wavered with the direction of the wind, stepped forward. His armor gleamed, but his eyes darted nervously. "Your Majesty, the Western forces under Nadea grow bolder. They¡¯ve begun raiding villages within striking distance of our southern strongholds. The peasants are fleeing, and morale among the troops is¡­ strained." Rhagaea¡¯s lips tightened. "Strained morale? Or the fear of Ira?" Her words cut through the room like the edge of a blade. Pharon hesitated. "Your daughter¡­ she inspires both fear and respect. But some of the younger soldiers¡ªthey whisper that her methods are¡­ unconventional." Unconventional. The word hung in the air like a veiled accusation. Ira, her daughter, had been forged in the fires of necessity, her tomboyish demeanor and ferocious resolve were the result of a life spent proving herself in a world that valued her less for her sex. She was the Southern Empire¡¯s greatest weapon¡ªand perhaps its most controversial figure. "Ira saved your lives at the battle against Nadea," Rhagaea said sharply. "Her charge turned the tide when the rest of you cowered behind your shields." Pharon bowed his head. "No one disputes her valor, Your Majesty." Valor was a poor substitute for peace, yet it was all the Southern Empire had left. Despite dedicating my life to the empire¡¯s stability, I couldn¡¯t escape the crushing realization that, in the end, my efforts might not be enough. In that moment of reflection, an old saying passed down through my family came to mind¡ªa secret, almost a jest when I first heard it, but now a truth I clung to more than ever. With this lingering thought, I prepared to depart for Epicrotea, ready to play my part if destiny demanded it. - by I 59. Plea for help The days had grown colder in Phyca, and with the chill came the shadow of dread. As the village elder, it was my duty to ensure the safety of my people. Yet, as the harvest ended and the Embers of Flame prepared for their brutal collection, I felt helpless. Their last raid had left deep scars¡ªhouses burned, children stolen, and lives shattered. We barely recovered, and now, they would come again, demanding more than we could ever give. I stood at the edge of the village, the fields stretching out like a barren shield. The wind carried the faint scent of ash, or perhaps it was my imagination. Ysmara, I thought to myself, you must do something. But what? The nobles had already turned their backs on us, and we had nothing left to offer as payment for protection. The journey to Danustica was gruelling, the path littered with fallen leaves. I was accompanied by three young men from the village who knew well that if we were attacked by the looters we wouldn¡¯t stand any chance. By the time I reached the city, my joints ached, and my resolve was as thin as the threadbare cloak on my shoulders. Yet, I pushed on, knowing that the lives of my people depended on it. Danustica was a world away from Phyca. Its bustling streets and crowded markets felt overwhelming. Here, the worries of a small village seemed insignificant. The people laughed, bartered, and argued over spices and silk as no bandit had ever darkened their doors. I envied their ignorance. My first stop was the governor¡¯s office. Lady Ira¡¯s name carried weight, and though I harboured no illusions about her kindness, I hoped the gravity of our plight might stir her heart. The guards at the gate barely glanced at me before allowing me inside. In the great hall, Ira sat with a group of advisors, her posture as rigid as the spear she leaned upon. Her reputation preceded her¡ªa fearsome warrior, a saviour on the battlefield. Yet, as I approached and knelt, I saw none of the compassion I had hoped for. "Speak," she commanded, her voice as sharp as her gaze. "My lady," I began, my voice trembling despite my effort to stay strong. "Phyca is in grave danger. The Embers of Flame¡ª" "¡ªhave been a problem for years," she interrupted, leaning back in her chair. "What makes your plight any different now?" "They¡¯ve grown bolder," I said quickly. "We cannot meet their demands. They¡¯ll take everything." She studied me for a long moment before shaking her head. "We¡¯re stretched too thin. My forces are needed elsewhere. The Southern Empire is on the brink, and your village is not the only one suffering." "Please, my lady," I begged. "We¡¯ll do anything¡ª" "Unless you can muster the denars to pay for mercenaries, there is nothing I can do." Her words were final, and the dismissal in her tone stung more than any blade. Desperate, I turned to the streets. Phyca could not afford mercenaries¡ªour crops weren¡¯t sold yet, and even if they were, the Embers of Flame would take the profits. Still, I wandered through the taverns and markets, hoping against hope that someone might listen.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. That was when I first heard the name: Nova. A new mercenary group, they said. Fierce but untested. They had recently arrived in Danustica, their name spreading among the city¡¯s underbelly. Perhaps they hadn¡¯t yet learned to demand exorbitant fees. Possibly they might listen to an old woman¡¯s plea. It was evening by the time I found them in The Rusted Flagon, a dimly lit establishment filled with smoke and the murmur of voices. My hands trembled as I approached their table. They looked like warriors¡ªweathered armour, sharp eyes, and an air of quiet confidence. I approached a man with a scar running down his cheek. "What is it?" the scarred man asked, his voice rough but not devoid of warmth. "I¡­ I need protection," I began, my voice wavering. "My village¡ªPhyca¡ªis threatened by the Embers of Flame." The group exchanged glances, their expressions guarded. The scarred man gestured toward a chair, and I sat, gripping the edge as though it might anchor me. "Why come to us?" a fiery-haired woman with sharp eyes asked, her tone sceptical. "Why not approach the nobles or the guards?" "I have," I admitted, the weight of rejection still heavy in my chest. "Lady Ira turned us away. As for others¡­ we have no coin to offer. Our crops are unsold, and the Embers will take whatever profits we might make." Her eyes narrowed. "So, what makes you think we¡¯ll take your job without reward? We¡¯re mercenaries, not saints. Profit binds us." That man glanced at the medallion he held in his sturdy hands. His eyes lingered on it, assessing it. "That¡¯s a fine piece," he said, his voice low. "Gold and craftsmanship. It could fetch five hundred denars, perhaps more. Still, how do we deal with the Embers of Flame? That¡¯s a costly venture. We¡¯d be looking at no less than two thousand denars." The words hit me like a blow, and I hesitated before speaking. "This medallion," I said softly, "was a gift from my late husband. A symbol of the life we built together before the war tore it apart. But if it means saving my village, I will part with it." His gaze softened momentarily before turning calculating again. "Even with the medallion, you¡¯re still short by fifteen hundred denars. Can you muster that?" I swallowed hard, my desperation threatening to spill over. "If I sell my land and my workshop in Epicrotea ¡­ perhaps I can gather the rest. But I¡¯ll need time." The silence stretched unbearably, the mercenaries exchanging unreadable glances. My heart sank. Had I waited too long? Should I have sold everything before coming here? The lives of my people weighed on my shoulders, and I had no answer left to give. A hand landed gently on my shoulder. I looked up into the face of a man I hadn¡¯t noticed before. His calm demeanour contrasted with the intensity of the others. "You mentioned a smithy in Epicrotea," he said, his tone conversational. "Let¡¯s say I¡¯m interested in buying it." The scarred man laughed, a rare sound that cut through the tension. "Boss," he said with a smirk, "are you retiring now?" The realization hit me like a jolt. The man before me wasn¡¯t just another mercenary¡ªhe was the leader of The Nova. His easy smile softened the weight in my chest. "Nah," he said, a glint of humour in his eye. "Just consider it an investment. Could be quite profitable in the future." The negotiations were swift but thorough. In the end, we reached an agreement: he would purchase my smithy, and the golden medallion would serve as an advance payment. The rest of the denars would be covered by the value of the workshop, ensuring The Nova would take up the fight against the Embers of Flame. As I walked the road back to Phyca, the golden light of dawn broke over the horizon, and a fragile hope bloomed within me. The Nova had agreed to help. They weren¡¯t just mercenaries; they were a chance¡ªperhaps the only chance¡ªto save my village from ruin. 60. Dissensio I couldn¡¯t hide my irritation as I sat in the corner of the inn, nursing a cup of lukewarm ale. Augustus had done it again¡ªaccepted a contract without consulting us. It wasn¡¯t just the contract that irked me; it was this contract. Taking on the Embers of Flame was no small task, and I had tried to warn him about the dangers. But, as always, Augustus had his reasons, which I suspected weren¡¯t entirely his own. The embers in the fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the wooden walls of the Rusted Flagon. The air inside the inn was thick with the scent of roasted meat and stale beer, mingling with the faint tang of smoke from the hearth. Outside, the muffled sounds of Danustica¡¯s bustling streets drifted in a reminder of the world beyond our group¡¯s troubles. Merchants¡¯ calls, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones, and distant laughter all created a tapestry of life that felt worlds apart from the burden weighing on my mind. I watched as Augustus leaned against the bar, discussing provisions with the innkeeper. His posture was casual, but I knew him well enough to sense the tension in his shoulders. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hand gripping the edge of the counter a little too tightly. The flicker of guilt in his eyes when he glanced my way was unmistakable, though he quickly masked it with a weak smile. My jaw tightened as I set my cup down with a thud, the dull sound cutting through the quiet hum of the inn. The sudden motion caught his attention. His smile faltered, and he hesitated for a moment before turning fully to face me. ¡°Silvana, I was going to talk to you about it,¡± he said, his tone placating but lacking conviction. ¡°When?¡± I shot back, my voice low but laced with anger. ¡°After we¡¯re knee-deep in corpses?¡± The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn¡¯t regret them. My frustration demanded to be heard. ¡°You know as well as I do that the Embers of Flame aren¡¯t just some ragtag band of bandits.¡± He sighed and approached, pulling out a chair to sit across from me. ¡°I get it. You¡¯re upset, but this isn¡¯t just about the money.¡± ¡°Then what is it about?¡± I asked, crossing my arms. ¡°Because from where I¡¯m sitting, it looks like you¡¯re letting someone else make decisions for you.¡± He flinched at my words, his hand pausing mid-motion as it reached for the mug in front of him. For a moment, I thought he might argue, the crease in his brow deepening as if weighing his response. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, running a hand through his hair in frustration. ¡°The Embers of Flame aren¡¯t just another group of outlaws,¡± he began, his tone heavier now, like someone shouldering a burden too vast for words. ¡°I know exactly who they are,¡± I interrupted, my voice cutting through the space between us. ¡°They worship Emperor Darusos, some long-dead ruler they¡¯ve turned into a martyr. What of it? Plenty of madmen in this world cling to lost causes.¡± He shook his head slowly, the lines on his face deepening. ¡°It¡¯s more than that, Silvana. Do you know why they worship him? Truly know?¡± I tilted my head, my irritation giving way to curiosity despite myself. ¡°Enlighten me,¡± I said, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair. His gaze darkened, and he stepped closer, his voice lowering as though the words themselves were too vile to speak aloud. ¡°Darusos wasn¡¯t just a ruler to them. He was a saint, a vessel of divine will according to the Pantheon. When his general betrayed and killed him, they didn¡¯t see it as an act of treachery¡ªthey saw it as blasphemy of the highest order.¡± ¡°And?¡± I prompted, though the chill creeping up my spine told me I wouldn¡¯t like where this was headed. ¡°The Pantheon retaliated,¡± Augustus continued, his jaw tightening. ¡°They didn¡¯t just kill the general. They hunted down his entire family¡ªwives, children, everyone. They dragged them from their homes and burned them alive.¡± The crackling of the inn¡¯s hearth seemed to grow louder, filling the silence that stretched between us. My throat tightened. ¡°Burned them alive?¡± I repeated, disbelief and revulsion warring in my voice. ¡°They claimed it was purification,¡± Augustus said grimly. ¡°That the flames would cleanse their souls and prepare a new vessel for Darusos to be reborn. The Embers of Flame inherited those beliefs. They¡¯ve carried on the rituals, Silvana.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Rituals. The word hung in the air like a noose. ¡°What kind of rituals?¡± I asked, though part of me already knew the answer. ¡°They¡¯ve killed innocents,¡± he said, his voice nearly breaking. ¡°Children, Silvana. They believe that by offering the purest of souls, they can hasten Darusos¡¯s return. At their peak, they numbered a hundred strong. But after they clashed with the Western Empire, their numbers have dwindled to about thirty. Even so, thirty fanatics can still do a lot of damage.¡± The room seemed colder despite the fire. I leaned forward, my arms resting on the table as I tried to steady myself. ¡°And you think this is something we can just... handle? Thirty zealots, Augustus. Thirty people who believe they¡¯re on a divine mission. Do you understand what that means?¡± He didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, he reached for his tankard, taking a long drink as if to drown whatever thoughts lingered in his mind. ¡°I understand,¡± he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. ¡°But this isn¡¯t just about them. It¡¯s about the village. It¡¯s about stopping this before it spreads further.¡± I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. ¡°You can¡¯t stop a wildfire by walking into it with a bucket of water. And don¡¯t pretend this is just about protecting some village. You wouldn¡¯t have taken the job if it was only about them.¡± His hand tightened around the tankard, the knuckles whitening. ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± he said, though the conviction in his voice faltered. ¡°No,¡± I shot back. ¡°I¡¯m not? Don¡¯t deny it. ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± he protested, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± I pressed. ¡°You weren¡¯t going to take that old woman¡¯s offer. I saw it in your face. You had no intention of accepting until Epicrotea was mentioned. Why is that, Augustus? What¡¯s so important about that place that you¡¯d risk all of our lives?¡± He looked away, his jaw working as if chewing over words he couldn¡¯t bring himself to say. The silence stretched, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the distant murmur of the inn¡¯s patrons. ¡°Thirty fanatics are still thirty too many,¡± I muttered. ¡°And some of Rhaegea¡¯s supporters have sympathy for them because they have been very loyal to the Imperial Family and have been fighting against the Emperor Garios. That makes this even more dangerous. I tried to warn you about this, Augustus. Why don¡¯t you listen?¡± He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he might admit the truth. But instead, he said, ¡°Because this isn¡¯t just about the Embers of Flame. It¡¯s about what they represent. If we let them continue, we¡¯re complicit in their atrocities.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°That¡¯s noble, Augustus, but don¡¯t pretend that¡¯s the only reason you took this contract. The pay isn¡¯t good enough to justify the risk. If it was about some noble cause you would have accepted it the moment that lady came to this inn. So what was it? What convinced you?¡± I felt my anger flare again. ¡°This isn¡¯t about Epicrotea. This is about Sora, isn¡¯t it?¡± Augustus¡¯s silence was all the confirmation I needed. Sora. The shadow that loomed over Augustus¡¯s decisions. Ever since she joined our group, she had a way of steering him, even when she wasn¡¯t present. And today, even in her absence, I could feel her influence. ¡°You¡¯re letting her control you,¡± I said, my voice quieter now but no less intense. ¡°You¡¯re a good leader, Augustus, but your reliance on Sora makes me question your judgment.¡± He looked away, and I saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But before either of us could say more, the inn¡¯s door creaked open, and a gust of cold air swept in. A familiar figure entered, her dark cloak billowing behind her. Sora. She scanned the room, her piercing gaze landing on us. As she approached, I felt the tension in the air grow heavier. ¡°Leon informed me that you have taken a new contract?¡± she asked, her tone neutral but with an undertone of authority that grated on my nerves. ¡°Yes,¡± Augustus said, his voice steady. ¡°Silvana and I were discussing the contract as of now. I sent Leon to update you on the details about the contract did he tell you about what we are getting in return?¡± Sora while looking at the ground responded yes I am aware of the rewards that have been promised. Sora then turned to me, her expression unreadable. ¡°Do you have any concerns regarding the Contract ?¡± ¡°Plenty,¡± I said bluntly. ¡°Starting with why we¡¯re taking on a group as dangerous as the Embers of Flame for such meagre pay.¡± She tilted her head slightly as if considering my words. ¡°Sometimes the reward isn¡¯t in coin,¡± she said cryptically. I clenched my fists under the table. ¡°You¡¯re playing a dangerous game, Sora. And you¡¯re dragging Augustus along with you.¡± She smiled faintly, a gesture that only fueled my frustration. ¡°Perhaps. But sometimes danger is necessary to achieve something greater.¡± ¡°And what, exactly, are we achieving?¡± I demanded. ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± she said simply, turning to leave. As she walked away, I turned back to Augustus. ¡°This is a mistake,¡± I said softly. He met my gaze, his expression conflicted. I shook my head, frustrated but knowing I couldn¡¯t abandon him. Whatever shadows hung over us, I would see them through. For Augustus, for the group. 61. The Dragon Slayer Becoming a part of Nova felt like fate handing me a second chance. As I stood in the training yard, watching the recruits spar under the mid-morning sun, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of gratitude. This group had saved me from my circumstances and the despair that had begun to take root in my heart. They¡¯d done more than that¡ªthey¡¯d saved my siblings. I still remember the fear that gripped me when I learned my younger brother and sister were about to be sold as slaves. The helplessness and anger had eaten away at me like a slow poison. Each day I spent toiling in silence, powerless to intervene, I felt another piece of myself crumble. I¡¯d imagine all the horrors that might await Phasos and Alea. It was a torment I wouldn¡¯t wish on my worst enemy. But then came Augustus and Sora. They¡¯d swept into my life like a storm, dismantling the slavers¡¯ operations with precision and ruthlessness. I¡¯d never seen anything like it. One moment, the slavers seemed untouchable¡ªpowerful men with connections and an army of enforcers at their beck and call. The next, they were on their knees, their empire of cruelty reduced to ash. Augustus and Sora, with their imposing presence and unyielding sense of justice, had been the hammer. I¡¯d pledged my loyalty to them that day. I¡¯d looked Augustus in the eye and vowed to serve Nova with everything I had. Every moment since had only solidified my resolve to repay that debt. Nova wasn¡¯t just a group of warriors; it was a family. And for the first time in years, I felt like I belonged. My siblings had adjusted to life with Nova better than I could have hoped. Alea, ever the curious and lively one, had taken to Silvana almost immediately. Silvana had a way with children. Despite her sharp demeanour and the intimidating air she often projected, she¡¯d always had a soft spot for the young and vulnerable. I¡¯d often find the two of them together, Alea peppering Silvana with questions about her armour, her weapons, or her exploits in the field. Silvana, to her credit, answered every question with patience, her usual edge softening into something almost maternal. Phasos, on the other hand, had practically idolised Leon. Where Alea was outgoing and full of energy, Phasos was quieter and more contemplative. Yet, in Leon, he¡¯d found a figure to look up to. Leon¡¯s easygoing nature and penchant for storytelling had made him a favourite among the young ones, and Phasos was no exception. He was constantly at Leon¡¯s side, listening wide-eyed to his tales of valour and adventure. ¡°Leon killed a dragon, you know,¡± Phasos had said to me just the other day, his voice brimming with excitement. ¡°Before he came to our village! He¡¯s the strongest warrior ever.¡± I¡¯d chuckled at the time, ruffling his hair. ¡°Stronger than me?¡± I¡¯d teased. Phasos had nodded earnestly, his eyes shining. ¡°I bet he could beat you in a duel!¡± Though I¡¯d laughed it off, a part of me couldn¡¯t help but feel challenged. Leon was kind to my siblings, and for that, I was grateful. But the stories of him slaying a dragon? Let¡¯s just say I¡¯d need to see it to believe it. Perhaps I¡¯d challenge him to a friendly duel someday, just to gauge how formidable that ¡°dragon¡± had been. In the training yard, ¡°Again!¡± I barked, as the recruits stumbled through their drills. Sweat poured down their faces, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, but they obeyed without question. ¡°You think the Enemies will give you a break because you¡¯re tired? Again!¡± Leon was my right hand in these efforts. Where my methods were harsh and demanding, he brought encouragement and levity. ¡°You¡¯ll thank him later,¡± Leon said to a particularly exhausted recruit, clapping the young man on the back. ¡°He¡¯s tough because he cares. Also, he¡¯s old, so he¡¯s got to keep yelling to feel alive.¡± I shot Leon a mock glare, but I couldn¡¯t help the grin that tugged at my lips. His presence made the gruelling sessions bearable, not just for the recruits but for me as well.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! As I stood in the training yard, watching the recruits spar, my mind wandered to the days ahead. ¡°You¡¯re distracted,¡± Silvana¡¯s voice broke through my thoughts. She approached with her usual grace, her silver armour glinting in the sunlight. Her piercing gaze seemed to read me like an open book. I offered her a sheepish smile. ¡°Just thinking about how far we¡¯ve come.¡± Silvana¡¯s expression softened, a rare sight.¡°And how far do we still have to go?¡± Her words resonated with me. Unity was Nova¡¯s greatest strength. We weren¡¯t just a group of warriors fighting for a cause; we were a family bound by shared purpose and unshakable loyalty. And in that moment, I knew I¡¯d do whatever it took to protect that bond. Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the training yard emptied, I found myself sparring with Leon. The recruits had gone to rest, and the yard was quiet save for the sound of clashing steel. Leon¡¯s skill was undeniable. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, and there was a precision to his strikes that spoke of years of experience. And the best thing about him was that even after defeating him a dozen times he still got up and mocked me about either my stance or footwork. ¡°You¡¯ve got potential,¡± he said with a grin, parrying one of my attacks. ¡°But you¡¯re too predictable.¡± I smirked, stepping back to catch my breath. ¡°Is that so? Care to show me how it¡¯s done, dragon slayer?¡± He laughed, a rich, hearty sound. ¡°Still don¡¯t believe me, huh? I¡¯ll have to introduce you to my old friend sometime. His scales make excellent trophies.¡± Despite his teasing, there was a glimmer of something in his eyes¡ªpride, perhaps, or ¨Cnostalgia. As we continued our bout, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a deeper respect for the man who had so quickly earned my brother¡¯s admiration. By the time we finished, the stars were out, casting their silvery light over the camp. I glanced toward the barracks where Phasos and Alea were likely fast asleep. The sight filled me with a sense of peace I hadn¡¯t felt in years. The next day I was informed about the new tasks that our group was about to take on. Our group had been busy lately, completing a string of quests that had kept us all sharp and on edge. But this latest contract was different. The Embers of Flame. Even the name sent a chill down my spine. They were notorious for their cruelty and their fanatical beliefs. The thought of my siblings ever falling into their hands¡­ I couldn¡¯t allow it. This mission wasn¡¯t just another job; it was personal. If eliminating them meant safeguarding families like mine, then I¡¯d give it everything I had. The harvest was set to begin in about thirty days, and the village we were to protect was only a day¡¯s travel from Danustica. That gave us four weeks to prepare. Augustus earlier had tasked me with training both recruits and experienced soldiers during free time. As a former gladiator, I¡¯d learned the importance of discipline and physical fitness, and I poured that knowledge into every session. Four weeks without pay was a strain on our group¡¯s resources, and Augustus, ever the strategist, had a plan. There was to be a grand tournament in Onira, the capital of the Southern Empire, just a day¡¯s journey north of Danustica. Queen Rhagaea herself had organized the event, and rumours swirled that Princess Ira would be among the participants. ¡°A chance to raise our reputation,¡± Augustus had explained during a meeting in the inn Rusted Flagon. ¡°If we can make a name for ourselves in the tournament, it¡¯ll open doors for bigger contracts. Better pay.¡± ¡°And the prize?¡± Silvana had asked, leaning forward with interest. ¡°Gold, glory, and a dinner with the royal family,¡± Augustus replied with a grin. The Southern Empire was at peace, unlike the war-torn regions of the West and North. Western Empire forces were locked in brutal skirmishes against Brittania, while the Northern Empire clashed ceaselessly with Sturgia. But the Southern Empire? They had occasional border disputes with the Western Empire and Aserai, but by and large, they enjoyed a time of stability. It made sense for them to hold a tournament now, a display of strength and unity. For us, it was an opportunity. Winning even a single event would solidify Nova¡¯s reputation as a formidable mercenary group. It was decided that I, Augustus, Silvana, and a handful of handpicked soldiers would travel to Onira for the tournament. Leon, Sora, and Abda would remain in Danustica to oversee operations and ensure the village¡¯s protection plans stayed on track... Standing in the courtyard as the sun dipped below the horizon, I watched my siblings playing with Silvana and Leon. Their laughter rang out, a precious sound that filled me with determination. For them, for Nova, and for the countless lives we might save, I would fight. The Embers of Flame, the tournament¡­ whatever lay ahead, I was ready. 62. Preparation The road to Onira was long and winding, the rolling hills and scattered forests offering a brief reprieve from the tensions that lingered over our group. I travelled north with Augustus, Silvana, and a handful of our best recruits, leaving the rest of Nova under Leon and Sora¡¯s capable command back in Danustica. It was a calculated risk, but one we had to take if we were to make our mark in the Southern Empire¡¯s tournament. As we approached Onira, the city¡¯s walls loomed high, a testament to its importance and wealth. The markets were teeming with life, a cacophony of voices and colours as merchants hawked their wares. Brightly coloured banners advertising exotic goods and services fluttered in the breeze, adding to the overwhelming sensory experience. The aroma of fresh-baked bread, spiced meats, and ripe fruits filled the air, mingling with the less pleasant stench of overcrowded streets and beasts of burden. Even the inns, usually a refuge for weary travellers, were packed to capacity. The tournament had drawn spectators and participants from all corners of Calradia, and the city was bursting at the seams. With no rooms to spare, we set up camp outside the city, joining countless others who had been turned away. Our modest camp was a simple arrangement of canvas tents and bedrolls, but it served its purpose well enough. The cool evening air carried the mingling scents of roasted meats and spiced wines from nearby campfires. The occasional burst of laughter or cheer from neighbouring camps reminded us of the festive atmosphere surrounding the tournament. As we sat around our modest fire, its warmth and light a small barrier against the encroaching darkness, Augustus laid out the details of the tournament. There would be four competitions, each demanding different skills and strategies. ¡°The first is an archery competition,¡± Augustus began, his voice steady as he addressed us. He held a carved stick, which he used to draw a rough diagram in the dirt. ¡°Silvana, you¡¯ll represent us in this round. Your precision and composure make you our best choice. Fruin,¡± he added, turning to one of the younger recruits, ¡°you¡¯ll join her. Your training under Silvana has been exemplary, and this is a chance to prove your worth.¡± Fruin¡¯s face lit up with pride, though he tried to mask it with a nod. Silvana, ever composed, simply inclined her head, her confidence evident in her calm demeanour. ¡°I¡¯ll ensure we make an impression,¡± she said, her tone steady and determined. ¡°Next is the solo melee competition,¡± Augustus continued. He paused, looking directly at me. ¡°Nathanos, this one¡¯s yours.¡± I blinked, momentarily taken aback. ¡°You¡¯re not participating?¡± I asked, incredulous. Augustus was a formidable warrior, his stance and footwork distinct from all of the warriors I¡¯d encountered in the past, which was enough to unnerve most opponents.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! He shook his head. ¡°The solo melee competition carries the highest reward, and we have other competitions to participate in. Besides, I have full confidence in you. There¡¯s no one in this world who can defeat you in a one-on-one fight.¡± The weight of his trust settled on my shoulders. My mind flashed to the countless hours of training, the sweat and pain that had shaped me into the fighter I am today. This was more than just a competition; it was a test of everything I had become under Nova¡¯s banner. He explained the format: an elimination round where all participants would fight simultaneously until only sixteen remained. ¡°The arena will be chaos,¡± Augustus warned, his voice taking on a sharper edge. ¡°Blades flying, shields crashing. It won¡¯t be about skill alone but strategy. You¡¯ll need to stay aware of your surroundings at all times.¡± Following that, four more rounds of solo combat would determine the winner. The hefty participation fee meant we could only afford to enter a handful of competitors. Augustus planned to send four of our best fighters into the elimination round alongside me, their sole purpose to protect me until we reached the final sixteen. ¡°Protect you,¡± Augustus emphasized, his gaze piercing. ¡°Once the elimination round ends, you won¡¯t need anyone else. Focus on winning, Nathanos. We¡¯re counting on you.¡± I nodded, the enormity of the task sinking in. His unwavering belief in me was both a comfort and a burden. Around the fire, the others exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of determination and concern. Silvana placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll do fine,¡± she said softly, her confidence in me mirroring Augustus¡¯s. I nodded, the enormity of the task sinking in. Winning the melee competition wasn¡¯t just about the prize money but about Nova¡¯s reputation. If I faltered, it wouldn¡¯t just be my failure¡ªit would be ours. ¡°The third competition is a team fight,¡± Augustus continued. ¡°Four fighters per team. I¡¯ll lead our group, accompanied by three recruits. This is as much about showcasing our group¡¯s cohesion as it is about winning.¡± Silvana smirked. ¡°Any chance you¡¯ll let me take part in that one too?¡± Augustus chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ll have your hands full with the archery round. Leave this one to me.¡± The final competition was a cavalry battle, the participation fee and rewards even steeper than the solo melee. Unfortunately, our best rider, Leon, was still in Danustica. Augustus had ruled out our chances in this round early on. ¡°We¡¯ll skip it,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re here to win, not to waste resources.¡± Despite the thorough planning, the tension was palpable. The tournament wasn¡¯t just a gathering of skilled fighters; it was a convergence of power and ambition. Mercenary groups like the Legions of the Betrayed and Skolderbroda were among the participants, their reputations preceding them. The competition would be fierce. As the discussion wound down, the camp grew quieter, save for the occasional crackle of the fire. I leaned back, gazing at the star-filled sky. The weight of Augustus¡¯s words lingered in my mind. ¡°No one can defeat you in a one-on-one fight.¡± He believed in me, as did the rest of Nova. I couldn¡¯t afford to let them down. Tomorrow, the arena would become our proving ground, and I would ensure that we emerged victorious. 63. Let the Games Begin The atmosphere at the tournament grounds was electric. Onira¡¯s coliseum was packed with spectators, nobles and commoners alike, all eager to witness the grand displays of skill and strength. The Southern Empire had spared no expense; colourful banners adorned the stands, and the air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread from nearby vendors. I stood at the edge of the archery range, my bow in hand, trying to steady my breathing. My fingers brushed over the smooth wood of the bowstring, a familiar touch that usually brought comfort. Today, it did little to ease the tension coiling in my chest. This wasn¡¯t just a competition¡ªit was a stage. This is a chance to elevate Nova¡¯s name and secure a brighter future for all of us. The rules were simple: five arrows, five targets, and the highest total score determined the winner. Targets were set at varying distances, their painted rings gleaming in the sunlight. It seemed straightforward enough, but the stakes made it anything but. I could feel the eyes of my comrades¡ªAugustus, Nathanos, and the rest¡ªwatching from the stands. Their faith in me was both a source of strength and a weight I couldn¡¯t ignore. ¡°Next up, Silvana of Nova!¡± The herald¡¯s voice cut through my thoughts, and I stepped forward to the firing line. My boots crunched on the gravel as I took my place. A hush fell over the crowd, save for the occasional murmurs of spectators placing last-minute bets. I set my feet firmly, nocked my first arrow, and drew the string back, the familiar tension grounding me. The first target was the closest¡ªan easy shot to start the round. I released the arrow, and it flew true, sinking into the centre ring with a satisfying thud. A wave of relief washed over me as the crowd erupted into polite applause. One down, four to go. The second target was farther, and the wind picked up slightly as I aimed. I adjusted, compensating for the breeze, and let the arrow fly. It landed just outside the bullseye, earning me a respectable score but not the perfection I¡¯d hoped for. My jaw tightened as I nocked my third arrow. The third and fourth targets were trickier, both at long distances. I took my time, breathing deeply to steady my hand. The third arrow struck solidly within the inner ring, though not dead centre. The fourth, however, wavered in its path, the gust of wind pulling it slightly off course. It struck the outer ring, and a murmur ran through the crowd. ¡°Focus, Silvana,¡± I muttered under my breath. This wasn¡¯t the time to falter. The final target was the farthest and smallest¡ªa true test of skill. I could feel the pressure mounting as I nocked my last arrow. Sweat beaded on my brow as I drew the string back, my arms trembling slightly from exertion. I took a deep breath, blocking out the noise of the crowd and the ache in my muscles. All that mattered was the target. I released the arrow, and it soared through the air, arcing gracefully toward the target. It struck just shy of the bullseye¡ªa solid hit, but not enough to secure the top spot. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as I stepped back from the line, and my score was tallied and announced. ¡°With 42 points currently Silvana of Nova! is at the third place now". the herald declared, his voice booming across the arena. I forced a smile as I waved to the crowd, though my chest ached with disappointment. Third place wasn¡¯t terrible, but it wasn¡¯t the victory I¡¯d hoped for. The event ended without anyone crossing my scores. A mercenary from Battania claimed the top spot, his arrows nearly flawless in their precision. The second-place archer was a local noble; her technique was polished, and her equipment was undoubtedly the finest money could buy. As I made my way back to the stands, my comrades greeted me with smiles and words of encouragement. Augustus clapped me on the shoulder, his expression warm. ¡°You did well, Silvana. Third place in a tournament of this calibre is nothing to scoff at.¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± I replied, my voice tinged with frustration. ¡°But it¡¯s not first.¡± Nathanos chuckled, his tone light. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I¡¯d have missed the target entirely.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve set a high bar, Silvana. Nova¡¯s name is on the board, and that¡¯s what matters,¡± said Augustus. Their words were kind, but they didn¡¯t erase the sting of falling short. As the next round of competitors took the field, I watched in silence, replaying each shot in my mind. Could I have adjusted my aim differently? Taken more time? The questions swirled, each one gnawing at me. But then my gaze shifted to the stands their excitement was contagious, and I felt a small smile tug at my lips. Maybe third place wasn¡¯t the victory I¡¯d dreamed of, but it was enough to inspire them. For now, I would take solace in the knowledge that I had given my all. Nova¡¯s name was spoken with respect in the arena, and that was a victory in its own right. Stolen novel; please report. The heat of the Colosseum''s sands pressed against my boots as I led the three recruits into the heart of the arena. Above us, the crowd''s roar cascaded like a relentless wave, their cheers and jeers blending into an overwhelming symphony. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword. I glanced toward the royal stands, hoping for a glimpse of Princess Ira. Her absence struck me more than I cared to admit. Instead, Queen Rhagaea sat resplendent, her demeanour regal and composed as she observed the proceedings. There was no sign of the princess, and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder why. I wanted to have a spar with the so-called princess after hearing a lot about her. Shaking off the thought, I focused on the task ahead. The herald¡¯s voice boomed across the arena, calling for the first round to commence¡ªa battle royale. Fifty fighters, each representing different factions or mercenary groups, were scattered across the arena. The objective was simple: survive and advance. The recruits flanking me shifted nervously, their eyes darting around as they gripped their weapons. "Stick close," I commanded, my voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through me. "Watch each other¡¯s backs, and don¡¯t take unnecessary risks." The signal to begin came swiftly¡ªa deafening horn blast that silenced the crowd for a heartbeat before chaos erupted. Fighters surged forward, weapons clashing as dust and sand flew into the air. I moved instinctively, parrying a wild strike from a burly fighter wielding an axe. The clang of metal reverberated through my arm as I sidestepped, countering with a quick slash that sent him sprawling. To my left, one of the recruits¡ªa wiry lad named Torran¡ªfaced off against a dual-wielding opponent. His movements were frantic but effective, his spear darting in and out like a viper. I intervened just in time to deflect a blade aimed at his side, my sword biting into the shoulder of his assailant. "Focus, Torran! Keep your guard up," I barked before spinning to block another attack. A Sturgian mercenary loomed before me, his greatsword cleaving the air in powerful arcs. The force of his blows pushed me back, but I used his momentum against him, sidestepping and delivering a decisive thrust to his midsection. The recruits were holding their own, but the chaos of the battle royale demanded constant vigilance. I caught sight of another recruit, a stocky lad named Caldrin, grappling with a swordsman twice his size. Caldrin¡¯s shield absorbed a heavy blow, and he retaliated with a swift bash that left his opponent dazed. I nodded in approval, proud of his resilience. The tide of battle shifted, and soon there were only a handful of combatants left. The recruits and I had formed a loose circle, fending off attacks from all sides. I could feel the crowd''s energy pulsing through me, their cheers a distant hum as my focus narrowed on survival. A flash of movement drew my attention¡ªa dagger hurled through the air aimed at one of the recruits. I lunged, intercepting it with my shield, the force jarring my arm but sparing the recruit from harm. "Stay sharp! They¡¯ll target the weakest links," I warned, my voice cutting through the din. The final moments of the battle royale were a blur of sweat, steel, and grit. One by one, our opponents fell, until only one of the recruits named Torran and I remained standing. The horn sounded again, signalling the end of the round. The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers washing over us as we stood amidst the carnage. The herald¡¯s voice rang out, declaring the survivors who would advance. My name was among them, and I felt a surge of pride¡ªnot just for myself, but for the recruits who had proven their mettle in the heat of battle. As the arena was cleared for the next round, I took a moment to catch my breath. The recruits were grinning despite their exhaustion, their confidence bolstered by the victory. "Good work," I said, clapping Torran on the shoulder. "But don¡¯t let it go to your heads. The next round will be tougher." My words proved prophetic as the second round began. This time, the format was different¡ªa series of one-on-one duels. In the next round, Torran was not even a challenge for a Battle-hardened Sturgian warrior. He was defeated in less than 5 minutes. But I broke this record by defeating an imperial soldier who was very predictive with his stance in a mere 4 minutes. The next round was also not a challenge for me I easily defeated my opponent. In the semi-final, My opponent was a Sturgian warrior, his armour battered but his eyes fierce. He carried a long axe, its blade nicked and worn from countless battles. We circled each other, the crowd¡¯s anticipation palpable. He struck first, his axe carving through the air with lethal precision. I dodged, my boots skidding on the sand as I countered with a quick thrust. He blocked with the haft of his weapon, our blades locking briefly before we broke apart. The duel was gruelling, each of us testing the other¡¯s limits. He was strong, and his strikes were powerful but predictable. I used my agility to my advantage, weaving around his attacks and striking where his defences faltered. A well-placed slash to his leg brought him to one knee, and I seized the opening to disarm him. The crowd roared as he yielded, and I was declared the winner. The next duel was against an Imperial mercenary, his polished armour gleaming under the midday sun. He fought with a sword and shield, and his technique was disciplined and precise. Our clash was a dance of strategy and skill, each of us probing for weaknesses. He pressed me hard, his shield bashing against mine as he attempted to drive me back. But I held my ground, using my experience as a gladiator to anticipate his moves. A feint drew his guard high, and I struck low, my blade slicing across his thigh. He staggered, and I pressed the advantage, delivering a final blow that sent his sword clattering to the ground. As the herald announced my victory, I raised my sword to the crowd, their cheers swelling to a deafening crescendo. My chest heaved with exertion, but a smile tugged at my lips. I had proven myself in the Colosseum, and Nova¡¯s name would echo in the halls of Onira. Returning to the staging area, I was met with nods of approval from my comrades. The recruits looked at me with a newfound respect, their eyes alight with admiration. "Well done, Nathanos," Augustus said, his voice steady but warm. "You¡¯ve earned yourself and this group fame at this tournament. Now you should rest and enjoy the show that I am about to put on." 64. Team Game The next round of the tournament was a team battle¡ªan all-out brawl where strategy and strength would determine the victor. I stood among my comrades, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword, as I surveyed the opposing groups. Each team represented the pinnacle of their region, but three stood out as especially formidable. On one side was Skolderbroda, a ferocious band of mercenaries from the North. They were clad in heavy furs and mail, their massive axes glinting in the sunlight. To their right stood the Legion of the Betrayed, a grim assembly of exiles and outcasts bound by a shared hatred for the empire that had forsaken them. And then there was Ira and her Imperial Legionaries¡ªresplendent in their polished armour, the embodiment of Imperial discipline and might. Flanking them were the Imperior Elite Menevolean, renowned for their unmatched skill and precision. The rules were straightforward: the last team standing would be declared the winner. The herald¡¯s voice rang out, signalling the start of the fight, and chaos erupted. Our group, though smaller in number, moved with practised cohesion. I led the charge while moving through the first line of Skolderbroda fighters with ease. Takish a crossbowman, stationed at the rear, loosed bolt after bolt, those shots finding their mark. The rest of the recruits formed the backbone of our formation, fending off attackers while maintaining our unit¡¯s integrity. Skolderbroda¡¯s initial onslaught was relentless. Their warriors fought like rabid wolves, their heavy strikes forcing us to give ground. But their aggression was also their weakness. We exploited their overextension, cutting down their vanguard with swift, brutal efficiency. Within minutes, two of their members unable to continue withdrew from the arena, and the remnants of their force retreated toward the arena¡¯s edge. Just as we began to regroup, the Legion of the Betrayed descended upon us. Their leader, a scarred veteran wielding a shield and a short sword, barked orders that his men followed with unyielding precision. Unlike Skolderbroda, they fought with a cold, calculated ferocity. Their spears and shields formed an impenetrable wall, forcing us into a defensive stance. ¡°Cover the flanks!¡± I shouted, deflecting a spear thrust aimed at my chest. Adesh¡¯s bolts peppered the Betrayed¡¯s formation and created small openings for us to exploit. One of our recruits, Adesh fought like a man possessed, his blade a blur as he danced between opponents. His agility and precision were astounding, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of pride. This was the group I had built¡ªa family forged in fire and blood. Despite their skill, the Legion of the Betrayed began to falter. Adesh shattered their shield wall with a devastating charge, scattering their ranks. One by one, their fighters fell until their leader stood alone. He fought valiantly, his blades flashing in the sunlight, but even he couldn¡¯t withstand the combined might of our team. Adesh delivered the final blow, his sword cleaving through the man¡¯s defences. A brief moment of silence followed, broken only by the roar of the crowd. We had done it¡ªwe had bested two of the most fearsome groups in the tournament. But our victory was short-lived. The sound of marching boots echoed across the arena as Ira and her Imperial Legionaries advanced. Their formation was flawless, their shields interlocking to form an impenetrable wall. Behind them, the Imperior Elite Menavliaton moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine, their spears poised to strike. ¡°Hold the line!¡± I commanded, but the clash of steel drowned out my voice. The Legionaries hit us like a tidal wave. Their discipline was unmatched, and each movement was perfectly coordinated. No matter how hard we fought, their formation held firm, their shields absorbing our blows while their spears found their marks. Adesh was forced back, his usual agility rendered useless against their tight formation. Takish¡¯s arrows barely made a dent, bouncing off their shields or being deflected by their armour.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. I roared in defiance, my blade carving through their ranks, but even I couldn¡¯t stem the tide. The Imperial Elite moved to flank us, their spears cutting through our weakened defences. One by one, my comrades fell, forced to yield under the relentless assault. Ira herself led the final charge, her presence commanding and unyielding. She moved like a force of nature, her blade cutting through the air with deadly precision. I tried to meet her head-on, but her strikes were too swift, too powerful. Within moments, I was disarmed, and forced to kneel in defeat. The crowd erupted into deafening cheers as Ira and her team stood victorious. The herald¡¯s voice boomed across the arena, declaring her the champion of the tournament. I looked around at my fallen comrades, my chest heavy with disappointment. We had fought valiantly, but it hadn¡¯t been enough. The last round was a cavalry battle in which our group did not participate and since I was hurt I retired to the healer¡¯s cabin without paying much attention to the round. After the battle, we were escorted to the castle, our efforts earning us a place of honour among the tournament¡¯s participants. The grand hall was a sight to behold, its vaulted ceilings and gilded chandeliers a testament to the Southern Empire¡¯s wealth and power. Long tables laden with food stretched across the room, the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filling the air. Nathanos was seated at the head of one table, his towering presence impossible to miss. He looked uncomfortable in the lavish setting. I was led to a different table near the Queen and Princess Ira. The table was not in the center but it was close to the Queen and Princess Ira. The Queen, regal and composed, offered a gracious smile as I approached. ¡°Your group fought well, Augustus. Few have pushed my daughter¡¯s Legionaries to such lengths.¡± ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty,¡± I replied, bowing slightly. ¡°It was an honour to participate.¡± Ira, seated beside her mother, regarded me with a measured gaze. ¡°Your tactics were impressive,¡± she said, her voice cool but respectful. ¡°Perhaps in another setting, we might find ourselves as allies rather than adversaries.¡± The Queen rose gracefully from her seat, her regal presence commanding the attention of the entire hall. The room, bustling with conversations and laughter just moments before, fell silent as she began to speak. Her voice carried a warmth that contrasted with her imposing stature, resonating throughout the grand hall. ¡°Today, we have witnessed the finest warriors, the sharpest minds, and the unyielding spirit of camaraderie,¡± she began, her gaze sweeping across the room. ¡°This tournament was not merely a display of skill, but a testament to the strength that lies in unity and determination.¡± Her words elicited a round of applause, the sound echoing off the ornate stone walls. She extended a hand toward the gathered participants. ¡°To all who competed, you have my respect and gratitude. Each of you has brought honour to this colosseum.¡± ¡°Your courage and strength have not gone unnoticed,¡± the Queen continued. ¡°You fought with valour and upheld your name. The room erupted in cheers, a wave of enthusiasm rippling through the attendees. Several nobles raised their goblets in a toast, their voices joining in unison as they chanted, ¡°Queen! Rhagaea !¡± Nathanos¡¯s face flushed, the usually stoic gladiator momentarily taken aback by the outpouring of support. After the Queen concluded her speech, she began presenting awards. Each champion was called forward, and their accomplishments were recognized with genuine enthusiasm. When Nathanos stepped up to receive his prize, the applause was thunderous, his presence commanding respect even among the elite of the empire. As he returned to his seat, people from across the hall approached to offer their congratulations. Nobles, knights, and even rival mercenaries shook his hand or clapped him on the back, their praises heartfelt. It was clear that Nathanos had become the highlight of the evening, his name a topic of admiration. ¡°Nova has earned its place,¡± Silvana remarked, raising her goblet once more. The Queen¡¯s gracious acknowledgement and the overwhelming support from those present left no doubt¡ªNova had not only participated in the tournament; they had left an indelible mark. 65. March to Phyca
The journey back to Danustica felt more subdued than I¡¯d expected. Despite the honour we had earned at the tournament, my mind was preoccupied with the task ahead. The Embers of Flame were no ordinary band of outlaws. They were a fanatical group, and their very existence threatened the stability of the villages under our protection. The tournament had been a spectacle¡ªa momentary escape. But now, reality demanded my focus. The travel was quiet, the clatter of hooves and the creak of the cartwheels the only sounds accompanying us. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the rolling fields with hues of amber and gold. Nathanos rode beside me, his siblings trailing in the cart behind, their laughter carrying faintly on the breeze. As we neared Danustica, the atmosphere shifted. Soldiers straightened in their saddles, and the banter faded. The city came into view, its sturdy walls a testament to its importance as a trade hub. Inside, the streets bustled with activity¡ªchildren darting between stalls, and citizens haggling over goods. But beneath the surface, there was tension, a collective unease that hung in the air.
During our time in Onira, and even before that in Danustica, we had pieced together a significant amount of intelligence about the Embers of Flame. Once a powerful and feared religious sect, they were now a shadow of their former selves. The Western Empire¡¯s operation last year had shattered its strength, killing many of its members, including its charismatic leader. But even with their diminished numbers, the Embers clung to their cause with a desperate fervour. The fallout from the Western Empire¡¯s operation was as much a curse as a reprieve. The Embers weren¡¯t destroyed; they were fractured, left teetering on the edge of oblivion. Leadership disputes had erupted in the wake of their leader¡¯s death, pitting his two sons against each other in a bitter struggle for control. The elder son, fiercely devout and uncompromising, claimed he was the true inheritor of their father¡¯s divine mission. The younger, Ignum, had a more practical approach, blending zealotry with pragmatism. Their feud culminated in open conflict, weakening their group further. When Ignum emerged victorious, his elder brother fled, taking with him a handful of loyalists. Despite their internal strife, the Embers of Flame remained dangerous. Their twisted ideology had outlived their leader, and their brutality continued to plague the isolated villages within their reach. Their modus operandi was well-documented and disturbingly effective. They relied on small raiding parties, typically composed of 10 to 15 men, to loot supplies and abduct children. These raids were surgical and efficient, aimed at instilling fear and asserting dominance. Resistance was met with overwhelming force, as reinforcements were quickly dispatched to crush the opposition. Reports suggested that their numbers had dwindled to around 35, a fraction of their former strength. Yet, those who remained were hardened by the fires of survival. The veterans among them were men who had endured the Empire¡¯s purge and the internecine war between the brothers. Though their ranks had been bolstered by new recruits, these were mostly untrained zealots¡ªyoung men and women who had been lured in by promises of divine purpose and salvation. It was this combination of fanaticism and desperation that made the Embers a formidable threat. A cornered beast is often the most dangerous, and the Embers of Flame had nowhere left to run. They were a dying ember, but one capable of reigniting if left unchecked. With this knowledge, we knew that our mission wouldn¡¯t be as simple as extinguishing a flame. It was a fight against an ideology, a belief system that had rooted itself deeply in the minds of its followers. Victory would require more than just swords and strategy¡ªit would demand precision, resolve, and an unwavering commitment to see the mission through.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Despite their diminished numbers, their desperation made them unpredictable. A cornered beast is often the most dangerous, and I couldn¡¯t afford to underestimate them. Once we arrived in Danustica, I immediately got to work. The recruits and veterans stationed here during our absence had been maintaining a watchful presence, but they needed direction. First, I conducted a thorough inspection of our forces. The recruits were eager but green, their inexperience evident in their stances and the way they carried their weapons. The veterans, by contrast, had the air of men who had seen countless battles¡ªscarred but steady. ¡°Sora, Leon,¡± I called out, gesturing for them to join me. They approached quickly, their expressions attentive. ¡°Our veterans have proven themselves time and again, especially during our campaigns in the Western Empire and Aserai,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s time we ensured their equipment matches their skill. I want you both to procure better gear for them¡ªarmour, shields, weapons, whatever they need. No compromises.¡± Leon grinned. ¡°You won¡¯t be disappointed, Augustus. We¡¯ll get them outfitted with the best Danustica has to offer.¡± Sora nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. ¡°Consider it done.¡± Their loyalty and efficiency have always been invaluable to me. As they left to fulfil their task, I turned my attention back to the recruits. Their inexperience concerned me, but that was something training would address. It was decided that the group resting in Danustica would begin their march to the village of Phyca on foot. This served two purposes: it allowed them to prove their endurance and discipline, and it demonstrated that those who excelled in their duties received tangible benefits. Meanwhile, those of us who had travelled to the tournament would rest for a day before following on horseback. This staggered approach ensured the entire group would reunite by the following evening. The recruits, eager to prove themselves, accepted their orders without complaint. Their enthusiasm was a good sign, though I knew it would wane after the first few miles of hard marching. As they departed, I observed their progress, making mental notes about which individuals showed promise and which ones needed more guidance. The next morning, after a much-needed rest, we began our journey. Nathanos and I led the way, mounted on sturdy warhorses. Behind us, a cart carried Nathanos¡¯s younger siblings, who had stayed with us during the tournament. Silvana rode in the cart with them, her presence a source of comfort for the children. The siblings seemed to adore her, and she had taken on the role of a protective older sister with ease. Their laughter mingled with Silvana¡¯s gentle teasing, created a warm atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the grim purpose of our journey. I glanced over at Nathanos as we rode. His expression was stoic, but there was a softness in his eyes when he glanced back at the cart. The bond he shared with his siblings was unshakable, and I knew that protecting them was his greatest priority. ¡°You¡¯re good with them,¡± I said, breaking the silence. He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Who? The recruits?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said with a faint smile. ¡°Your siblings. They idolize you, you know.¡± His expression softened further, and he chuckled. ¡°They¡¯re good kids. Stronger than they should have to be at their age.¡± ¡°And they¡¯re lucky to have you,¡± I added. He didn¡¯t respond, but the slight incline of his head told me he appreciated the sentiment. The road to Phyca was a well-trodden path, winding through rolling hills and patches of dense forest. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. As we rode, I found myself reflecting on the challenges ahead. The Embers of Flame was a threat not just to Phyca but to the stability of the entire region. Eliminating them would send a message¡ªa reminder that groups like theirs would not be tolerated. But more than that, it was personal. For Nathanos, for his siblings, and for the countless families who had suffered at their hands. By evening, we would be reunited with the rest of our group, and the true test of our mettle would begin. Until then, we rode in relative silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. 66. Spark The road to Phyca stretched before us, a winding dirt path flanked by dense forests and the occasional open field. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers and fresh soil. As we approached the village, the distant sound of hammering and the chatter of farmers became more distinct. Phyca was larger than I had anticipated, its sprawling fields and tightly clustered homes suggesting a community that had thrived despite the ever-present threats of banditry and war. At the centre of the village stood the elder¡¯s home, a modest but well-maintained structure with a thatched roof and a small garden bursting with herbs and flowers. The elder herself greeted us at the door. She was a wiry woman with sharp, intelligent eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. Her silver hair was tied back in a neat braid, and she wore a simple but elegant dress that spoke of her status within the village. ¡°Welcome to Phyca,¡± she said, her voice firm but warm. ¡°I have been expecting you, Augustus.¡± I inclined my head respectfully. ¡°Thank you, Elder Ysmara. We¡¯ll do everything we can to ensure your village¡¯s safety.¡± She nodded, her expression softening. ¡°Come Inside, we¡¯ll discuss the arrangements.¡± Inside her home, the walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of harvest and celebration. A large table in the centre of the room was covered in maps and documents. Ysmara gestured for us to sit and began explaining the village¡¯s layout and vulnerabilities. ¡°The Embers of Flame are no ordinary threat,¡± she said, her brow furrowing. ¡°We¡¯ve moved every family to the village centre, but our defences are stretched thin. The perimeter is too large to guard effectively, and we¡¯re relying heavily on your expertise.¡± I nodded, studying the maps intently. ¡°You¡¯ve made the right decision consolidating the population. We¡¯ll position crossbow squads on the rooftops to cover as much ground as possible. Our cavalry will scout the surrounding area for any signs of movement. The rest of our troops will stay at the village centre, ready to respond to any threats.¡± Ysmara listened carefully, her sharp eyes never leaving my face. ¡°Good. We¡¯ve also set up lookouts in the watchtowers. They¡¯ll signal with horns if they spot anything suspicious.¡± After our meeting, I stepped outside to find Abda inspecting a small crate filled with vials and herbs. She had been working tirelessly on a new concoction¡ªa sedative potion made by mixing plant juices with alcohol. She looked up as I approached, a satisfied smile on her face. ¡°Augustus,¡± she said, holding up a vial of the pale green liquid. ¡°This is ready. It¡¯s potent enough to knock out a grown man if used correctly. I recommend applying it as a coating for arrows or darts. It¡¯ll allow us to capture prisoners alive.¡± I took the vial, turning it over in my hand. ¡°Impressive work. But we¡¯ll need to be cautious. An overdose could be fatal, correct?¡± Abda nodded. ¡°Exactly. Precision will be key. I¡¯ll instruct the archers on how to use it properly.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Good. This might give us an edge against the Embers,¡± I said, handing the vial back to her. As the day wore on, our preparations continued. Sora and Leon oversaw the distribution of upgraded gear to our veterans. The armour and weapons we had acquired during our travels were now proving invaluable. These seasoned fighters had already earned their place through countless battles, and their survival was paramount. Elder Ysmara met us near the village centre. Her expression was resolute: ¡°Everything is in place, but we¡¯ll need to remain vigilant. The Embers won¡¯t give us any warning.¡± I nodded. ¡°Our scouts and lookouts will be our first line of defence. Let¡¯s hope they give us enough time to respond.¡± The weight of the coming days settled over me as I walked through the village, inspecting the preparations. The Embers of Flame were a shadow on the horizon, a threat that could descend at any moment. But we were ready. And if they came, they would find us waiting.
After a few days passed, the harvest was finally underway. The villagers were working tirelessly in the fields, their movements quick and efficient as they bundled stalks of wheat and loaded them onto carts. It was a reassuring sight¡ªa reminder of what we were protecting. But amidst the routine, our lookouts brought urgent news. A dozen bandits were spotted moving toward the village. The alarm horns sounded across Phyca, breaking the serenity of the day. Villagers immediately dropped what they were doing and rushed to the centre of the village as we had instructed during our preparations. Those living on the outskirts had already moved their valuables to the central area a few days before, minimising potential losses. The villagers moved with practised precision, their fear kept in check by the discipline we¡¯d drilled into them. As the bandits drew closer, we maintained absolute silence. The element of surprise was our greatest weapon. Hidden in our positions, we observed the intruders. They moved in loosely coordinated groups, their demeanour was casual but purposeful. They likely believed this was just another easy raid¡ªa village too unprepared to resist. The bandits looked more like farmers than seasoned raiders, armed with little more than swords and tattered armour. Their movements lacked the precision of trained warriors. When they entered the village centre, they began their usual plundering: kicking over barrels, rifling through carts, and searching for anyone who hadn¡¯t managed to flee. Their confidence was their downfall. Once they were fully exposed and within range, I gave the signal. Crossbow squads stationed on rooftops unleashed a volley of bolts, striking the bandits from multiple directions. The bolts were coated with Abda¡¯s sedative potion¡ªa mixture of plant extracts and alcohol that induced numbness and partial paralysis. The effects were almost immediate. The bandits panicked, their leader shouting orders to regroup, but it was futile. The sedative spread quickly, slowing their movements and dulling their senses. Those who weren¡¯t struck by the initial volley tried to draw their weapons, but our cavalry, stationed at the outskirts of the village, closed in to cut off any retreat. The fight was over before it could properly begin. One by one, the bandits dropped their weapons, too impaired to continue or too overwhelmed by our coordination to resist. Their leader, a grizzled man with a scar running on his forehead, was the last to be subdued. Even under the effects of the sedative, he fought fiercely, managing to knock a blade from one of our recruits¡¯ hands before Nathanos himself tackled him to the ground. The entire operation took minutes, but it felt like an eternity as we worked to secure the prisoners. The villagers, who had watched from the safety of the central square, began to emerge cautiously, their faces a mix of relief and curiosity. We had succeeded. The bandits were subdued, their leader captured alive, and not a single villager had been harmed. But as I stood there, watching the aftermath, I knew this was just the beginning. The Embers of Flame wouldn¡¯t stop with a single failed raid. If anything, they would take this as a challenge. And we would be ready. 67. Flame We began interrogating the squad leader shortly after his capture. He was tied to a sturdy post in the centre of the village, his defiance apparent in how he sat upright, chin raised as if daring us to break him. I crouched in front of him, trying to appear calm, though the anger simmering inside me threatened to boil over. ¡°Tell us where your hideout is,¡± I said, keeping my voice level. ¡°Do that, and we¡¯ll let you go. You have my word.¡± The man chuckled, his tone dripping with derision. ¡°You think I¡¯m afraid of you? Kill me if you must, but know this: the Embers of Flame will come for revenge. They will burn you, this village, and everyone in it. Your promises mean nothing to me.¡± His words were expected, but they grated on me nonetheless. Still, I kept my composure. ¡°We don¡¯t have to kill you. Just give us what we need, and you¡¯ll walk away.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Even if I tell you, they will hunt me down. Death is certain, whether at your hands or theirs. At least my death for the cause will mean something greater than any of you could ever understand.¡± Before I could respond, Nathanos interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. ¡°So your great cause is to burn children?¡± His eyes blazed with barely restrained fury. ¡°That¡¯s the legacy you want to leave behind? Burning villages, killing innocents? What kind of stupidity is that?¡± I intervened mentioning ¡°It¡¯s common knowledge that once someone dies they can¡¯t be brought back to life this makes your cause stupid enough for me.¡± The squad leader¡¯s composure cracked momentarily, his jaw tightening. ¡°It is not stupidity,¡± he hissed. ¡°Once a person dies, yes, they cannot return. But he was not a mere mortal. He was a saint. He will come back to us. When he does, he will release all of Calradia from these petty fights, this endless suffering. His return will bring salvation.¡± It was clear that reasoning with him would lead nowhere. The man was deeply entrenched in his beliefs, every word he spoke laced with unshakable conviction. I glanced at Nathanos, who shook his head slightly, his frustration mirroring my own. Realizing that traditional methods of interrogation were pointless, I shifted tactics. ¡°You think they¡¯ll come for you?¡± I asked, my tone heavy with doubt. ¡°You¡¯re here, alone, captured. No one will rescue you.¡± ¡°They will,¡± he shot back, his voice trembling slightly. ¡°No,¡± I said, standing and pacing in front of him. ¡°No one else respects your so-called code of flames. You¡¯re just a tool to them, expendable. If they cared about you, they¡¯d be here already.¡± His breathing quickened, his calm exterior beginning to crumble. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. They¡¯re nearby. They¡¯ll come.¡± ¡°Nearby?¡± Nathanos pressed, seizing on the slip. The man realized his mistake too late. His face contorted with anger as he spat, ¡°Yes, they¡¯re nearby! They¡¯ll burn this village to ash in less than 24 hours. You¡¯ll see!¡± His outburst confirmed what we needed. I stepped back, meeting Nathanos¡¯s gaze. The squad leader might have thought he¡¯d won a victory by issuing his threat, but in reality, he¡¯d just given us exactly what we needed: confirmation of the Embers¡¯ proximity. Once we confirmed that the rest of the group was nearby, the entire village became a hive of activity. Scouts and lookouts kept a constant watch, their eyes scanning the horizon for any movement. The tension in the air was palpable, and even the villagers, though frightened, moved with purpose. Everyone knew the stakes. We were no longer dealing with scattered raiders but an organized and desperate enemy.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I gathered my men and reviewed what we knew, piecing together details from past incidents involving the Embers of Flame. Their history was bloody, and their reputation even bloodier. Villages that had resisted them were razed to the ground, leaving no survivors. That, however, was when they had the strength of over a hundred men. Now, their numbers were significantly diminished¡ªaround fifty, if our estimates were correct. Even then, most of their forces would likely be busy pillaging nearby villages. A small squad might have been actively looting and terrorizing nearby settlements while the rest of their group focused on protecting their hideout. But our contract was clear: the safety of Phyca was our priority. Any threat to this village had to be eradicated. I studied the map intently, tracing the possible movements of the enemy. If the Embers of Flame were nearby, their likely targets would be the three villages within a day¡¯s march. Based on their typical strategies, it was reasonable to assume they had divided their forces. An equal number of troops might have been sent to each village, with a smaller contingent left to guard their camp. Indicating they had started with around forty men which was the same number Sora Informed me about, but after our recent skirmish, their numbers had been reduced by thirteen. This left us expecting to face approximately thirty fighters. Meanwhile, our strength stood at forty, bolstered by the recruits we had brought in from Danustica. While they lacked experience, their presence gave us a numerical edge¡ªone we would need to use wisely. The Embers of Flame had their pride to consider. Despite their reduced strength, they wouldn¡¯t let resistance go unanswered. It was obvious they would come here, both to maintain their reputation and to punish the defiance we had shown. Yet, this time, we couldn¡¯t rely on an ambush. The element of surprise was no longer in our favour. A pitched battle was inevitable, and we had to prepare accordingly. I dispatched our newer recruits¡ªthe light infantry we had recently brought in from Danustica¡ªto scout the surrounding area. They were green but eager, their movements quick and efficient as they spread out across the plains. To support them, I sent half a dozen horsemen, our entire cavalry contingent. These riders were Aserai-born and bred, they were more efficient in plains making them invaluable for this task. The combination of light infantry and cavalry created a web of watchful eyes, ensuring we wouldn¡¯t be caught off guard. Despite these precautions, I couldn¡¯t shake the unease settling in my chest. We had done everything we could to keep the villagers safe, relocating them to the centre of the village where they could be more easily protected. Barricades were erected, and supplies stockpiled. Still, the thought of the Embers¡¯ brutality haunted me. We were playing a dangerous game, and the lives of these people were at stake. It was around midnight when the first sign of trouble appeared. Flames erupted from a house on the outskirts, the orange glow cutting through the darkness like a beacon of destruction. The sight sent a chill down my spine. Moments later, a runner came sprinting towards us, his face pale and his voice breathless. ¡°The Embers of Flame have attacked the outskirts,¡± he panted. ¡°They¡¯re burning houses. Their numbers¡­ around twenty.¡± The report confirmed my fears. These weren¡¯t mere raiders; they were organized, and deliberate in their approach. I immediately sent Nathanos with our fifteen best fighters. They were battle-hardened veterans who knew how to keep their heads in the chaos of combat. By the time Nathanos left, our light infantry units had already surrounded the attackers, keeping them under close watch. Their orders were clear: scout, don¡¯t engage. Nathanos¡¯ arrival would tip the scales, turning what could have been a costly skirmish into a decisive victory. I couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of disappointment, though. Leon, who was leading the cavalry unit and was tasked with gathering intelligence on the Embers¡¯ movements, had yet to report back. I had hoped his information would give us an advantage, allowing us to act preemptively. Instead, we were reacting, and that lack of foresight gnawed at me. While Nathanos led the charge, I stayed in the centre of the village with the support group and a contingent of archers. Our task was no less important. The flames from the outskirts could spread if left unchecked, threatening to consume the entire village. We worked tirelessly to extinguish the fires, forming bucket lines and dousing the burning homes with water. The villagers, though terrified, joined our efforts, their determination a testament to their will to survive. Our primary objective remained the same: protect the villagers and keep them safe from any further attacks. Every scream, every crackle of flame, every clash of steel in the distance only strengthened my resolve. This was more than a battle; it was a test of endurance, strategy, and will. And we would not falter. 68. Blaze The village was quiet, save for the distant echoes of battle on the outskirts where Nathanos and his troops clashed with the Embers of Flame. I stood near the central square, the tension palpable as villagers huddled together, their eyes reflecting fear and hope in equal measure. My thoughts were interrupted by the distant thud of hooves. Turning toward the sound, I saw Samina riding hard, her horse kicking up dust as she approached. The urgency in her posture sent a chill down my spine. Samina was part of the cavalry unit led by Leon. She dismounted swiftly, her breathing laboured but controlled. "Augustus," she began, her voice steady despite the urgency of her words, "while scouting, we spotted a small group of men rushing towards the village from the east." Her report shocked me. The main attack had come from the west, nearly the opposite direction. Could this be a diversion? My mind raced through possibilities as she continued. "Their number was around eight," she explained. "They were on foot, and we decided to confront them. We managed to kill four, but the remaining men retreated to a cave not far from here. They disappeared into a basement within the cave. We¡¯re unsure of what lies below, so we decided to keep watch while I came to inform you. The cave is close; it won¡¯t take us more than two hours to reach it." I nodded, processing her words. If this was an infiltration attempt, it could spell disaster for the village. The attack from the West might indeed be a distraction. I had no choice but to act quickly. "Good work, Samina. Stay here for a moment; I need to check on the progress of the battle." Leaving Samina, I made my way toward the outskirts, where the sounds of fighting had begun to die down. A recruit intercepted me along the way, his expression grim. "The battle is over," he reported. "We managed to kill all the attackers, but..." He hesitated, and I braced myself for the worst. "But what?" I demanded. "The light infantry unit launched an attack before Nathanos arrived. They were told to wait, but they were too eager, wanting to prove themselves. Four of our recruits died because of their recklessness." The news hit me like a blow to the chest. Those men had been green, untested, but they were under my command. Their loss was a heavy burden. I forced myself to focus. There would be time to grieve later. For now, the village¡¯s safety came first. I returned to Samina, who was waiting patiently along with Silvana. "We¡¯ll head to the cave," I told her. "Gather a small team. We need to move quickly and find out what¡¯s in that basement." The journey to the cave was swift. Samina led the way, her knowledge of the terrain invaluable. The moon cast a pale light over the landscape, guiding us through the plains. When we arrived, the cave entrance loomed before us, a gaping maw that seemed to swallow the faint light. Two scouts stood guard at the entrance, their faces tense. "They¡¯re down there," one whispered, pointing toward the darkness. "We haven¡¯t heard anything since they disappeared." They informed me that Leon and another warrior had attempted to enter the cave but sustained minor injuries in the process. They decided to return to the village to receive treatment from Abda, leaving the scouts to guard the entrance. Fortunately, their injuries were not severe¡ªjust a few bruises that required attention but posed no immediate concern. I acknowledged the information that I received. So our opponents were holed up in the basement of a cave which looked man-made indicating this might be one of their hideouts. I nodded, signalling for the team to ready themselves. Torches were lit, and weapons drawn as we descended into the cave. The air grew colder, the faint scent of damp earth mingling with something more acrid¡ªperhaps the remnants of their supplies or something more sinister. The basement entrance was a narrow passage at the back of the cave. It opened into a small chamber, the walls lined with crude carvings of flames and symbols I didn¡¯t recognize. At the centre of the room was a trapdoor, its edges worn from frequent use.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "This must be where they went," Samina whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. I gestured for silence, listening carefully. Faint voices drifted up from below, confirming our suspicions. "We go in quietly," I ordered. "No unnecessary risks. Our priority is to find out what¡¯s down there and ensure it poses no threat to the village." The trapdoor creaked as we opened it, revealing a ladder that descended into darkness. One by one, we climbed down, torches held aloft to illuminate the way. The air grew heavier, carrying the unmistakable stench of death and decay. The chamber we entered was larger than I had expected, its walls lined with makeshift shelves holding jars, scrolls, and crude weapons. At the far end of the room, the remaining men stood in a circle, their backs to us. They were chanting, their voices low and guttural. At the centre of their circle was an altar, a crude effigy of a figure engulfed in flames. Unfortunately, I saw something which stopped me in my steps. It was the burnt body of a child right next to the altar "Hold," I whispered, raising a hand to stop the team. We observed for a moment, trying to make sense of the scene. The men seemed completely absorbed in their ritual, oblivious to our presence. One of them turned suddenly, his eyes wide with surprise as he spotted us. "Intruders!" he shouted, reaching for a weapon. There was no time for subtlety. "Engage!" I ordered, and the room erupted into chaos. Swords clashed, torches flickered, and shadows danced on the walls as we fought. The men were desperate, their movements wild and uncoordinated, but their fanaticism made them dangerous. The battle was over quickly. The last of the men fell, their blood pooling on the stone floor. We secured the room, examining the contents of the shelves and the altar. Among the scrolls, we found maps and notes detailing their plans, including an attack on Phyca and other nearby villages. The information was invaluable, but the discovery of the altar left me uneasy. The effigy was more than a crude statue; it was a symbol of their unwavering belief, a reminder of the danger posed by their fanaticism. Also, we found some gold and supplies which we suspected they looted from the nearby villages. I felt a little unfortunate for the kid we decided to give him a burial in the village even without knowing his name and whether his family were alive to search for him. The scene left a scar on me I could not put my mind to anything else, I even missed that in the basement among the four the leader of the Flame was also present Later Samina informed me about that giving me a sense of relief that at least that this madness was stopped. Angry at those members of embers of flame I decided to let them rot in the basement. We extracted whatever was of value from their bodies and the basement and departed to meet our client to complete the terms of our contract. We reached the village by sunrise exhausted because of lack of sleep and confrontation. Even though we won we were not that satisfied. Embers of flame burnt the freshness that our group had they killed some of our members whose families were waiting in Danustica. They also gave us a scar by showing what they have been doing for nearly a century burning innocent children alive. After reaching the village my priority was to give proper funeral to the dead villagers and our troops who died fighting the Embers of Flame we rested for the day as we were tired. The next day I decided to have a chat with the village chief regarding the payment and rewards. It was decided Our group Nova would keep all the loot we had taken from their hideout along with the ransom that we would get by handing the captured members of Flames to the authority in Danustica. About the workshop in Epicrotea, it was decided that Ysmyra will continue to handle the operations she will keep some of the profits after subtracting the operational cost and will leave it in the workshop for us to collect later. With our business settled, we departed for Danustica, carrying the weight of our losses but satisfied to put an end to the Embers of Flame¡¯s tyranny. The battle was over, but the scars they left behind would remain as a reminder of the darkness we fought to overcome. 69. Call from Eleftheroi The return trip to Danustica was a mix of victory and tiredness. Long shadows were created over the road as the morning sun rose above the horizon. The fresh breeze carried the subtle aroma of the wildflowers that bordered the walk and the damp earth. I sat in the back of one of the carts, the wooden planks rough against my hands as I steadied myself. Beside me was Silvana, her expression as unreadable as ever. She gazed at the passing scenery, her hair catching the golden light. It was only when we hit a particularly bumpy stretch of road that she turned to me, breaking the silence. ¡°So, Augustus,¡± she began, her tone tinged with curiosity, ¡°was it worth it?¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Worth what?¡± ¡°Taking on the Embers of Flame for a sum so small it barely covers our expenses,¡± she clarified, her gaze locking with mine. ¡°We lost good people. Was it the right call?¡± Her words cut through the morning peace, forcing me to confront the consequences of my decisions. I let out a slow breath, considering my reply. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just about the gold, Silvana. The Embers of Flame was a threat¡ªto that village, to others nearby, and perhaps even to us if left unchecked. Stopping them was necessary.¡± She nodded thoughtfully, her expression softening. ¡°True, the villagers were grateful. Their smiles made it easier to bear the losses. And whatever your true goal was with securing that smithy in Epicrotea, I¡¯ll trust your judgment¡­ as long as I¡¯m getting paid.¡± I chuckled softly at her honesty. ¡°You will be, Silvana. I¡¯ll make sure of it.¡± The conversation lingered in the air, neither of us feeling the need to say more. The rest of the journey passed in relative silence, punctuated only by the occasional chatter among the troops or the distant calls of birds overhead.
As we approached the gates of Danustica, the towering walls came into view. The scent of the city reached us even before the gates came into full view¡ªa mix of baked bread, roasted meat and spices. A pair of guards stationed at the gates stepped forward as we came close. Their polished armour gleamed in the sunlight, though their expressions were more relaxed than intimidating. One of them, a bearded man with sharp eyes, raised a hand to halt us. After we informed him who we were he replied ¡°You are Augustus of Nova?¡± he said, his tone formal but not unfriendly. ¡°We¡¯ve been instructed to inform you that someone from the governor¡¯s office is expecting your group. You are to be escorted directly to the chamber.¡± I exchanged a glance with Nathanos, who rode up beside me. His face was as stoic as ever, though I caught the faintest flicker of curiosity in his eyes. ¡°Lead the way,¡± I replied to the guard, nodding. While Nathanos and I dismounted, the rest of the group decided to make their way to a nearby inn to rest and regroup. I gave Silvana and Sora quick instructions to ensure everyone had food and a place to sleep before turning my attention back to the guards.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
The path to the governor¡¯s hall wound through the city, a maze of narrow streets and wide plazas filled with the hum of activity. Merchants shouted out their wares, the clink of coins mingling with the laughter of children playing in the alleys. When we arrived at the governor¡¯s residence, we were not directed to the grand hall where I had expected to meet Ira, the governor herself. Instead, the guards led us to a smaller chamber situated in a quieter corner of the building. The room was modest but tastefully decorated, with tapestries depicting scenes of past battles and a heavy wooden table at its centre. Seated at the table was a young man with dark-blond hair that fell just below his ears. He looked up as we entered, his sharp features breaking into a confident smile. ¡°Ah, Augustus and Nathanos of Nova,¡± he greeted, rising to his feet. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be wrong if I say that I was mesmerized by your performance in the Arena. I am Eutropios Pethros an aide to Governor Ira Pethros¡± I studied him carefully, noting the fine embroidery on his tunic and the signet ring on his finger. The name Pethros was etched into my memory, a name tied to the ruling clan of the Southern Empire. This man¡ªEutropios Pethros¡ªwas no ordinary official. ¡°It¡¯s an honour to meet you,¡± I replied cautiously, my tone calculated. ¡°To what do we owe this summons?¡± He chuckled, motioning for us to sit. ¡°Straight to business, I see. I admire that. First, let me say I witnessed your performance in the tournament. Marvelous, truly. Nathanos, you¡¯ve become quite the sensation in this city. It wouldn¡¯t be far-fetched to say every girl here dreams of you¡ªand perhaps a few men too.¡± He laughed heartily at his jest, though Nathanos¡¯s expression remained impassive. ¡°We¡¯re flattered,¡± I said dryly, steering the conversation back on course. ¡°But I assume you didn¡¯t call us here to discuss tournaments.¡± Eutropios¡¯s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. ¡°Indeed. I have a contract specifically requested for your group. As you know, our nation is surrounded by enemies on all fronts¡ªthe Western Empire, Aserai, Khuzait, and Northern Empire. But the most pressing threat is the Khuzait to the east.¡± He leaned forward, his fingers steepled. ¡°Their horse archers are unmatched, and we¡¯ve suffered many humiliating defeats even during the height of the Empire. Our defences rely heavily on two factors: the sea, which they cannot traverse on horses, and the mountains, guarded by the Eleftheroi people.¡± The mention of the Eleftheroi piqued my interest. These were fierce, independent mountain folk with a deep-seated hatred for the Khuzait, born of generations of conflict. ¡°The Eleftheroi are technically under the Southern Empire¡¯s domain,¡± Eutropios continued, ¡°but they operate independently. Their lands are barren, unable to sustain much agriculture, so we send them aid regularly. This time, their leader specifically requested your group to deliver the supplies.¡± I frowned slightly. ¡°Why us?¡± ¡°Perhaps your reputation precedes you,¡± he said with a sly grin. ¡°Regardless, the task is simple. Escort the supplies to the Eleftheroi. You will be compensated handsomely¡ª4,000 denars. But be warned, the laws of the Empire do not apply in their territory. It¡¯s a land ruled by their customs.¡± The terms were straightforward, and the pay was generous. Escorting supplies was far from the most dangerous job we¡¯d undertaken. ¡°I¡¯ll need to discuss this with my team,¡± I replied, mindful of the need for consensus after the last mission. Eutropios nodded. ¡°Understandable. The supplies will be ready by the day after tomorrow. Let me know your decision by evening.¡± With that, we took our leave. As we made our way back through the city, I discussed the proposal with Nathanos, weighing the risks and rewards. The shadow of our losses still hung over us, but the prospect of steady work and significant pay was hard to ignore. By the time we reached the inn, the setting sun had bathed the city in hues of orange and gold. It was a moment of calm before the next storm, a chance to regroup and decide the path forward. For now, though, the weight of leadership pressed heavily on my shoulders, a constant reminder of the lives entrusted to my command. 70. Wildflower The dim light of the tavern lent the wooden beams a warm, amber glow, and the smell of ale mingled with the more earthy aromas of damp straw and ageing wood. A low murmur of conversation filled the air, punctuated by the occasional clink of tankards or the creak of chairs shifting against the uneven floorboards. I sat at the head of a long, roughly carved table. The room¡¯s warmth contrasted sharply with the biting chill of the mountain air outside, making the tavern feel like a haven¡ªfor now. ¡°So,¡± I began while looking at the gathered faces. What do you all think?¡± Silvana leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. The firelight danced off her sharp features as she spoke, with her tone measured as always. ¡°It¡¯s straightforward enough. An escort mission with food supplies isn¡¯t exactly risky. Those Bandits are after gold, not grain. But,¡± she paused, her piercing eyes locking onto mine, ¡°our troops are tired. We¡¯ve had back-to-back engagements. They need rest, and we¡¯ll need to resupply before we leave.¡± Nathanos nodded in agreement, his broad frame making the sturdy chair beneath him seem fragile. ¡°The men¡¯ve been murmuring about the last fight. Some still bear the weight of what we saw in that cave. A couple of days to regroup wouldn¡¯t hurt.¡± He also added ¡° Leon needs to heal his wounds as well. We can never be sure that there aren¡¯t any dragons living in those caves; if there are, we¡¯ll have to rely on him.¡± The room instantly filled with everyone¡¯s laughs after his remark. ¡°And,¡± Abda chimed in, her voice soft but insistent, ¡°the route takes us through mountainous terrain. Those areas are known for rare herbs, some with medicinal properties. It would be wise to gather what we can. Supplies aren¡¯t just food and weapons, after all.¡± Sora, seated beside Abda, tilted her head thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ve read about the Eleftheroi. They¡¯re not like the other groups we¡¯ve dealt with. They¡¯re proud, almost fiercely so, and their hatred for the Khuzait runs deep. The castle we¡¯re heading to is more than just a stronghold; it¡¯s their heart. They once roamed the Khuzait plains before being driven out, so their hostility toward the nomads is generational. We should tread carefully.¡± The table fell silent for a moment as we all absorbed her words. Finally, I spoke. ¡°It¡¯s decided then. We¡¯ll take the job but rest and resupply first. Silvana, make sure the men have everything they need. Nathanos, I want you to oversee the preparation of provisions. Abda, mark the areas on the map where you¡¯d like to search for herbs. Sora, keep digging into what you can find about the Eleftheroi. And finally, Leon you should stop drinking and rest you need to heal that wound. A murmur of agreement rippled through the group before we rose from the table, each heading to carry out our tasks. I lingered a moment longer, letting the warmth of the fire soak into my skin before stepping out into the frigid night.
The two days passed swiftly, filled with bustling activity as we readied ourselves for the journey. The men¡¯s spirits seemed to lift as they busied themselves with preparations, and by the morning of our departure, Nova was once again a cohesive, determined unit. The road to the Eleftheroi territory stretched before us, a winding path that twisted through dense forests before giving way to rocky terrain. The journey was uneventful at first. The rhythmic crunch of boots against the dirt road, the occasional jingle of bridles, and the creak of wagon wheels formed a steady backdrop to our conversations. I found myself walking beside Abda. She carried her usual assortment of pouches and tools, her eyes darting to the sides of the path, scanning the landscape for something I couldn¡¯t yet see.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°Spotting anything useful already?¡± I asked, breaking the friendly silence. Abda glanced at me, a faint smile playing on her lips. ¡°Always. These mountains are a treasure trove of medicinal plants. Look over there.¡± She pointed to a patch of small, silvery-green leaves growing between two rocks. ¡°That¡¯s mountain sage. Its extract can help with wounds or inflammation.¡± I raised an eyebrow, impressed. ¡°I had no idea you¡¯d be this excited about the trip.¡± ¡°Excited might be pushing it,¡± she replied with a chuckle. ¡°But these plants are rare in the lowlands. Up here, they thrive in the rocky soil and harsh conditions. There¡¯s another one.¡± She crouched to inspect a cluster of bright yellow flowers clinging to a shaded crevice. ¡°Starlight bloom. It¡¯s good for calming fevers.¡± ¡°You know, I¡¯ve always admired your knowledge,¡± I admitted. ¡°But I didn¡¯t realize how much these plants could mean to us.¡± Abda¡¯s expression softened as she stood. ¡°In battle, everyone looks to swords and shields, Augustus. But sometimes, the difference between life and death is a simple dressing or a brewed tonic. If we¡¯re careful, this journey could provide us with enough supplies to stock our infirmary for months.¡± I nodded, appreciating the practicality of her perspective. ¡°Then gather what you can. I¡¯ll make sure we slow down when we need to.¡± Her eyes lit up with gratitude. ¡°Thank you. And one more thing, Augustus¡ªthere¡¯s a plant here, called ghostroot. It¡¯s incredibly rare, but if I find it, it¡¯ll be worth more than gold to us. Keep an eye out for a pale, almost translucent flower growing close to water.¡± ¡°Ghostroot,¡± I repeated, committing the name to memory. ¡°I¡¯ll keep my eyes open.¡± We walked in silence for a while after that, the conversation lingering in my mind. Abda¡¯s knowledge was a reminder of how every member of Nova brought something vital to the table. By the time we reached the base of the mountains, the air had grown colder, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the metallic tang of stone. The terrain became more challenging, the path narrowing as it wound upward. Abda¡¯s eyes lit up as she spotted patches of rare herbs growing along the rocky slopes. ¡°Stop for a moment,¡± she called out, dismounting from her horse with practised ease. ¡°These are invaluable. Give me a moment to gather them.¡± We watched as she moved with precision, her hands deftly plucking the herbs and storing them in small pouches. Sora, ever curious, leaned over to me. ¡°Did you know some of these plants can fetch more than gold in the right markets?¡± ¡°Not surprising,¡± I replied, my eyes scanning the rugged landscape. ¡°The Eleftheroi live in harsh conditions. They must rely on what the mountains provide.¡± The castle came into view as we rounded a bend, its silhouette stark against the backdrop of jagged peaks. Unlike the grand fortresses of the Empire, this was a simpler structure, built for function rather than form. The walls were sturdy, the towers low and utilitarian. Yet there was a certain beauty in its resilience, a testament to the people who called it home. At the gates, we were greeted by a young man with a commanding presence. He had dark hair that shined in the sunlight and a confident smile that put us at ease. ¡°Welcome,¡± he said, his voice warm but formal. ¡°I am Ruslan, elder son of our chief. We¡¯re glad you¡¯ve arrived on time. My father wishes to address you this evening, but for now, you are our guests. We will do our best to make you comfortable.¡± We were led to a cluster of huts just outside the castle walls. They were modest but clean, with thick woollen blankets and small hearths to keep the cold and the winds at bay. The men settled in quickly, grateful for the chance to rest after the journey. As the sun dipped below the mountains, Ruslan himself came to take us to dinner. The dining hall within the castle was a large, stone-walled chamber lit by flickering torches and a roaring fire. The smell of delicious food made my stomach growl in anticipation. The Eleftheroi warriors mingled freely with their families, creating an atmosphere that was both communal and welcoming. It was clear that this was more than just a stronghold; it was a home. The meal began with Ruslan¡¯s father, a grizzled man with piercing eyes, addressing the gathered crowd. He spoke of their struggles, their history, and their gratitude for our presence. Though his words were formal, there was an underlying sincerity that resonated deeply. 71. Marriage Proposal The dining hall was alive with the mingling scents of smoked fish, wild mushroom stew, freshly baked rye bread, and the faint tang of fermented mead. Smoke curled upward from the central fire pit, its warmth provided a welcoming relief against the sharp chill of the mountain air oozing through the stone walls. Timber beams, darkened with age and soot, stretched overhead, and the flickering light of torches cast shadows across the faces of the gathered crowd. Timur, the leader of the Eleftheroi, sat at the head of the long table, his imposing figure made more so by the animal pelts draped over his shoulders. His piercing eyes, a sharp contrast to the weathered lines of his face, surveyed us as we settled into our places. I found myself seated near the centre, Nathanos on my right and Abda to my left. The atmosphere was warm, yet there was a noticeable weight due to the gathering, an unspoken recognition of the Eleftheroi¡¯s storied history and resilience reached our ears. Timur raised a wooden goblet, its rim glinting in the firelight. ¡°To our guests, the men and women of Nova,¡± he began, his voice rich and commanding. ¡°Your reputation precedes you. Not just from the tournament but from your deeds beyond. You have my respect.¡± He continued ¡° To the winners of the tournament and the group that got rid of Embers of Flame.¡± The hall erupted in cheers, the sound hearty and genuine. I inclined my head in gratitude, catching a glimpse of Ruslan, Timur¡¯s elder son, at the far end of the table. His dark hair and confident demeanour marked him as a leader in the making, though there was a hint of restlessness in his gaze. As the meal progressed, Timur leaned forward, addressing me directly. ¡°I must admit, I first heard of Nova through my son and niece. They returned from the tournament, their pride tempered but their spirits unbroken. Azlynn, especially, spoke highly of your group.¡± Nathanos shifted slightly beside me, but Timur¡¯s attention remained fixed on me. ¡°Skolderbroda¡ªI warned my children of them before they left. Seasoned mercenaries, veterans of countless battles. To hear that a new group like yours bested them in a team fight¡­ it is no small feat.¡± ¡°We had our share of luck,¡± I replied modestly, though Timur¡¯s faint smile suggested he saw through my humility. He gestured broadly, his goblet momentarily forgotten. ¡°Luck, perhaps, but still cannot be denied. It is the mark of valour we Eleftheroi hold dear. Our people¡ªwe value strength, resilience, and the will to face adversity head-on. It is why, when the time comes, my son will take his place as leader of our tribe. But¡­¡± He paused, his gaze flicking toward Ruslan, who met it with a mixture of pride and uncertainty. ¡°There are lessons he cannot learn here.¡± The hall grew quieter, the conversation around us fading as Timur¡¯s words commanded attention. ¡°Ruslan is good. He is strong. But he has not seen the world beyond these mountains. He has not faced the challenges that forge a true leader. Augustus,¡± he said. His eyes locked onto mine, ¡°I would have him join your group.¡± In our culture, it is important for the prince to be educated abroad and to serve in a foreign military for his development. I intend to send him to the Southern Empire in a few years, but first, he must experience the outside world and learn its customs. The surprise must have shown on my face because Timur chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. ¡°I know it is an unusual request, but he can learn much from you and your people. The way you conduct yourselves, the way you command respect¡ªthese are things he must see and understand.¡± Before I could respond, Timur¡¯s gaze shifted to Nathanos. ¡°And my niece, Azlynn. She has¡­ expressed a fondness for you.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Nathanos blinked, his usual composure momentarily faltering. ¡°Azlynn is skilled,¡± Timur continued, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ¡°A remarkable horse archer, one of the best among us. But she is also headstrong. She saw you at the tournament and has spoken of little else since.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Nathanos managed, his tone carefully neutral. Timur leaned back, his expression thoughtful. ¡°In the Southern Empire, she would not be accepted into a noble house as she is not my direct descendant. They think of us as barbarians they will never accept my niece in their proud families,¡± he said, the word laced with disdain. ¡°But here, we value deeds over lineage. If she wishes to pursue this path, I will not stand in her way.¡± ¡°If Nathanos has no objections, neither do I,¡± I said carefully, glancing at my companion. His face betrayed nothing, but I made a mental note to discuss this with him later. I continued "I believe it would be better for them to interact to understand one another. We should avoid rushing or forcing these decisions upon them." Timur nodded, seemingly satisfied. ¡°Then it is settled. Ruslan will join you, and Azlynn¡¯s path¡­ will be hers and Nathanos to decide.¡± The conversation shifted after that, Timur speaking at length about the Eleftheroi¡¯s traditions and their enduring struggle against the Khuzait. As he spoke, Abda leaned closer to me, her voice a soft murmur. ¡°Did you know some of the herbs I collected today are unique to these mountains? They¡¯ve been used for generations by the Eleftheroi to treat everything from infections to fevers.¡± ¡°I had no idea,¡± I admitted, intrigued. ¡°What else grows here?¡± She continued talking about some of the flowers and herbs. I tried to remember her words. Knowledge of such resources could prove invaluable in the days ahead. As the evening wore on, the mood in the hall grew lighter, laughter and the clinking of goblets filling the air. Timur eventually rose, signalling the end of the meal. ¡°You are our guests tonight,¡± he said, his tone warm. ¡°Rest well. I am looking forward to your answers tomorrow.¡±
As the fire crackled gently in the corner of the hut, I turned to Nathanos, who sat on a low stool, sharpening his sword with slow, intentional strokes. His face, usually calm and composed, held a faint trace of unease, and I decided it was time to address the topic that had been on my mond since dinner. ¡°Nathanos,¡± I began, keeping my tone light, ¡°how was your talk with Azlynn? She seemed¡­ eager to know you better.¡± He paused mid-stroke, the whetstone hovering above the blade. ¡°It was¡­ fine,¡± he said after a moment, his voice betraying a hint of shyness. ¡°Fine?¡± I raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. ¡°You know, if this marriage idea isn¡¯t something you want, no one¡ªleast of all me¡ªwill force you into it. This is your life, your choice. I just want you to be clear about what you want.¡± Nathanos looked up, his cheeks faintly flushed. ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m against it,¡± he admitted, his voice quieter. Before I could respond, Sora, who had been lounging on a nearby cot, chimed in with a mischievous grin. ¡°Well, I did have a little chat with her during dinner.¡± Both Nathanos and I turned to her, and she sat up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. ¡°She seems nice, straightforward in a way that¡¯s rare for someone with her background. And,¡± she added, smirking as her gaze shifted to Nathanos, ¡°I think someone here is more interested than he¡¯s letting on.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Nathanos started, his words stumbling as he tried to find a response. ¡°Relax,¡± Sora said with a laugh. ¡°No one¡¯s rushing you. But, for what it¡¯s worth, she seems genuinely interested in you, not just because you¡¯re the big, strong champion everyone¡¯s talking about.¡± Nathanos gave a sheepish nod, his hand resuming its work on the blade. I decided to let the matter rest for now, though a small smile tugged at my lips as I watched him wrestle with his feelings. For a man who could face a dozen enemies without flinching, this seemed to be his greatest challenge yet. As I lay on my cot, staring at the flickering firelight, Timur¡¯s words echoed in my mind. Ruslan joining Nova, Azlynn¡¯s getting married to Nathanos¡ªthese developments promised to shape our group in ways I had yet to fully grasp. For now, though, I let the day¡¯s weight settle, allowing myself a brief reprieve of sleep before the challenges ahead. 72. Prince in Training The midday sun screened through the scattered clouds, radiating light across the Eleftheroi camp. The dining area, set beneath the roof of stretched animal hides, was alive with activity. Wooden tables, rough-hewn from sturdy timber, stood in neat rows. The scent of roasted lamb and freshly baked flatbreads wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the mountainous terrain. A soft breeze carried with it the distant sounds of horses snorting and the occasional bark of laughter from the Eleftheroi warriors. Timur, the leader of the Eleftheroi, sat at the head of one of the largest tables. His commanding presence was impossible to ignore. Dressed in a deep red tunic embroidered with intricate tribal patterns, he exuded a quiet confidence that matched the resilience of his people. As we gathered around the table, he gestured for us to sit, pouring a dark, spiced drink into horn cups and passing them around. ¡°I trust you all slept well?¡± Timur began, his voice rich and warm, cutting through the gentle hum of the camp¡¯s activity. ¡°The hospitality of the Eleftheroi is unmatched,¡± I replied, raising the cup in a gesture of thanks. The drink was sharp, with honey and an herbal undertone that lingered on the tongue. Timur smiled, his weathered face softening. ¡°Good to hear. Our people may be fierce, but we take good care of our friends and kin. Which brings me to something I wish to discuss.¡± I leaned forward slightly, intrigued. ¡°Your man, Nathanos, did you talk to him?¡± Timur said, glancing at the broad-shouldered warrior sitting at a nearby table, which was the same table Azlynn was also seated at. ¡°My niece Azlynn is waiting for his reply. She¡¯s a skilled rider and archer, but she¡¯s also... stubborn. It seems she¡¯s captivated by him.¡± Sora, sitting across from him, smirked and leaned in. ¡°She¡¯s not the only one who¡¯s been obsessed,¡± she teased, earning a glare from Timur. Timur¡¯s laughter rumbled like distant thunder. ¡°I see my niece¡¯s charms are not lost on Nathanos. That¡¯s good. I will mention this to his father, and he¡¯ll be overjoyed. I¡¯ll be giving you a few horses as a gift to celebrate the union. And, well... I suppose some Khuzait slaves as well.¡± A silence fell over the table at Timur¡¯s words. My mind raced as I weighed the implications of accepting such a gift. The horses and riders would undoubtedly strengthen Nova, but the mention of slaves posed a moral dilemma I couldn¡¯t ignore. We would gladly take such gifts; however, we do not keep slaves in our group. Slaves, understandably, prioritize their freedom above all else, which could lead to unforeseen betrayals that might endanger our members. I offered some fragile justifications¡ªadmittedly weak and unconvincing¡ªbut at that moment, I couldn¡¯t think of anything better. Timur, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, spoke again.¡°Do not take it the wrong way,¡± he said, his tone measured. ¡°These slaves are no longer warriors of the Khuzait. They were captured in battle and have served faithfully here. If you wish to free them, that is your decision. But know this¡ªthey are excellent horsemen. Their skills would be an asset to any group.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I trust them enough to send them along with my son. They have been serving my family loyally and will regard my son or my niece as their lords without any question. They will be a great addition to your forces and also it will provide me peace of mind that my son and my niece will be safe.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll honour your generosity and we¡¯ll make sure they find a place within Nova,¡± I replied, choosing my words carefully, aware that there was no room for negotiation. If necessary, I could simply free the slaves, removing any moral burden. Timur nodded, satisfied. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, with Timur sharing tales of Azlynn¡¯s adventures and her fiery spirit. Sora¡¯s occasional quips kept the mood lively, and the meal stretched into the early afternoon, filled with laughter.
To receive the rewards for this task we were informed to visit Onira the capital of the southern Empire. With our mission accomplished, it was time to depart. The marriage was scheduled for the auspicious day of Delki, a sacred occasion when the Eleftheroi honoured Mother Earth. The festival of Delki was still a few months away, and until then, Azlynn would remain with her people. Ruslan, accompanied by half a dozen trusted slaves, would join our ranks. Though there was a hint of sadness in Ruslan¡¯s behaviour as he prepared to leave his family, it was a necessary step. According to their traditions, gaining experience in the outside world was vital for him to take on the responsibilities of a tribe chief. The road to Onira stretched before us, winding through rolling hills and dense forests before opening into the fertile plains of Imperial lands. The terrain changed gradually, the rugged mountains giving way to lush greenery. Wildflowers dotted the roadside, their vibrant colours a welcome contrast to the stark, rocky landscape we had left behind. The air grew warmer, carrying the faint aroma of blooming flora. As we travelled, the rhythmic clatter of horse hooves and the creak of wagon wheels filled the air. The men rode in relaxed formations, their spirits lifted by the promise of good food and bed. Sora rode beside me, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. ¡°Onira will be a change of pace,¡± she said, her voice tinged with curiosity. ¡°The tournament grounds will still be buzzing with activity. Do you think we¡¯ll run into familiar faces?¡± ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± I replied. ¡°Competitors from across Calradia would¡¯ve travelled there. And with Nova gaining recognition, we might draw attention ourselves.¡± ¡°Good or bad attention?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°That depends on how we carry ourselves,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on securing allies and avoiding unnecessary conflicts.¡± The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as we approached Onira. We entered the city with caution, the significance of our reputation heavy on our shoulders. The cobbled streets felt foreign underfoot after days of dirt paths, and the sheer scale of Onira was a stark contrast to the simplicity of the Eleftheroi territory. Yet, as we navigated the crowded streets, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this city held as many dangers as it did opportunities. As we were travelling past the tournament grounds, memories of our previous battles resurfaced. Nathanos, riding just behind me, seemed lost in thought. Sora, ever perceptive, nudged her horse closer to his. ¡°Thinking about Azlynn?¡± she asked with a sly grin. Nathanos hesitated briefly before shaking his head, prompting me to chuckle. Sora, quick to seize the moment, teased with a sly remark, ¡°Trying to laugh away your sorrows, Captain? Despite all your valiant deeds, it seems the girls are only interested in marrying Nathanos, not you.¡± She added with a playful grin, ¡°I wonder when the marriage proposals will start rolling in for you, Captain.¡± The group¡¯s laughter echoed as we finally reached the inn. I along with Silvana and Nathanos decided to visit the governor¡¯s office to collect our payment whereas the rest of the troops dismounted and went towards the inn. 73. Artisans Cant Sell their Products The inn we stayed at had a cosy and relaxing feel, its walls were lined with curtains, and its colours faded over time. The air inside carried the mingled aromas of spiced wine and the faint tang of wood smoke from the hearth. As I sat by the window in my room, a lantern casting a soft glow over my hand and the contract parchment spread across the table, I felt a twinge of frustration. The offers weren¡¯t terrible, but none stood out. Most were small tasks¡ªescorts, minor raids, or reconnaissance missions¡ªnothing that would give Nova the edge nor the money it needed to grow. My mind drifted, weighing the risks of picking one of these mundane contracts versus holding out for something better. The sound of the bustling street below, punctuated by the occasional cheer from a tavern, pulled me out of my thoughts. It was getting late. I decided to shelve the contracts for the night and revisit them in the morning. Just as I blew out the lantern and began to ready myself for bed, there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was Sora with some late-night observation or witty remark, I called out without much thought. ¡°It¡¯s open. Come in.¡± To my surprise, it was Abda who stepped into the room. She moved with purpose, her expression serious but not urgent. She smelled like lavender, a contrast to the inn¡¯s earthy, smoky atmosphere. She closed the door softly behind her and turned to face me. ¡°Augustus,¡± she began, her voice low but steady, ¡°I¡¯ve come across an opportunity. One that could earn us a good deal of money with minimal risk.¡± ¡°You have my attention,¡± I said. I gestured to the chair across from me, and she sat down, her hands clasped on the table. ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± I continued after not getting any response from her. Abda launched into her explanation. ¡°Some of the artisans here in the city are on strike. They¡¯re refusing to sell their goods under the current conditions, and I don¡¯t blame them. The law here is¡­ well, let¡¯s say it¡¯s a bit unfavourable for them.¡± Her words were precise, but the sleepiness creeping into my mind made it harder to follow. ¡°What law?¡± I asked, stifling a yawn. She leaned forward slightly, her tone patient. ¡°In almost every city in Calradia, traders need a trader¡¯s license to sell their goods outside the city. Without one, they can only sell locally, and even then, at fixed prices set by the city¡¯s council. So all the artisans have to sell it to the local traders. It doesn¡¯t matter how much demand there is elsewhere; they¡¯re stuck selling at these rates.¡± ¡°And the merchants?¡± I prompted. ¡°The merchants hold all the power. They buy at the city¡¯s fixed rates and then sell the goods outside for triple or even quadruple the price. Artisans have no choice but to comply, or their goods don¡¯t move. It¡¯s created a situation where smuggling has become rampant.¡± I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of it all. ¡°So, the artisans are striking to force a change?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Yes. But that¡¯s not the opportunity I¡¯m talking about.¡± She paused as if choosing her next words carefully. ¡°The opportunity lies in us acquiring a trader¡¯s license. With one, we can bypass the local traders and buy directly from the artisans at fair prices. Not only would this earn their goodwill, but we¡¯d also make a significant profit selling those goods outside the city.¡± I stared at her, the weight of her words beginning to sink in. ¡°You¡¯re saying we should get involved in trade?¡± She nodded. ¡°I know it¡¯s not what Nova typically does, but think about it. This isn¡¯t just about money; it¡¯s about diversifying our resources. A steady income stream like this could sustain us between contracts and fund better equipment or more recruits.¡± ¡°How much does a license cost?¡± I asked, leaning back in my chair. ¡°About 5,000 denars,¡± she replied. ¡°But the license isn¡¯t bound by any one nation. I already had one when I was in Aserai lands, and it would simply need to be renewed, which will only cost around 1000 denars. The cost might seem high, but the return on investment would be almost immediate. Within weeks, we¡¯d recover the principal and start seeing profits.¡± She added that she had spoken with a few of the traders and artisans and had learnt that there is a high demand for olives in the Northern Empire and artisans are unwilling to sell it to local vendors at a reduced price. Thus, there was a chance to purchase it at a slightly higher price and later sell it in the Northern Empire for twice or three times the original price. I mulled it over, tapping my fingers on the table. The idea had merit, but it was a significant departure from our usual operations. ¡°Let¡¯s discuss this with everyone tomorrow at lunch,¡± I said finally. ¡°You can bring one of the artisans you¡¯ve been speaking with. Maybe hearing it from them will help the others understand.¡± Abda¡¯s face lit up with a small smile. ¡°Thank you, Augustus. I¡¯ll make the arrangements.¡± As she left the room, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. The path Nova was on was changing, and I realized how sleepy I was before Abda came into my room.
The next morning, the common room of the inn buzzed with activity as our group gathered for lunch. The savoury aroma of roasted lamb and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the faint tang of ale and the earthy scent of the wooden beams. Plates clattered, and the hum of conversation created a lively atmosphere. I sat at the head of the table, flanked by Silvana and Nathanos, as Abda entered with a wiry man in tow. ¡°This is Eryn,¡± Abda said, gesturing to the man. He nodded politely, his hands calloused and stained¡ªa testament to years of craftsmanship. ¡°He¡¯s one of the blacksmiths leading the strike.¡± Eryn wasted no time, launching into an impassioned explanation of the artisans¡¯ plight. He spoke of unfair prices, the stranglehold merchants had on the market, and the growing frustration among the city¡¯s craftsmen. His words painted a vivid picture of a community on the brink of collapse, desperate for change. When he finished, I turned to the group. ¡°You¡¯ve all heard Abda¡¯s proposal. What do you think?¡± Silvana was the first to speak. ¡°It¡¯s risky, stepping into an unfamiliar arena. But if what Eryn says is true, the potential rewards are worth it.¡± Nathanos nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve always taken risks. This one just looks different. If Abda thinks it¡¯s worth pursuing, I¡¯m on board.¡± Sora leaned in, a sly smile playing on her lips. "This isn¡¯t just about the money. Supporting the artisans could win us some valuable allies in the city. But let¡¯s not forget¡ªit might also earn us a few enemies along the way." The rest of the group murmured their agreement, and I felt a sense of relief. ¡°Alright then. Abda, move forward with the license renewal. Let¡¯s see where this path takes us.¡± As the meal continued, I couldn¡¯t help but reflect on the decision. Nova had always thrived on adaptability, and this was just another test. Whether it led to success or failure, it was a step forward¡ªand that was what mattered. 74. To Myzea The meeting concluded with a sense of purpose, and we immediately began our preparations. The air inside the inn buzzed with activity, the faint aroma of roasted Lamb and baked bread wafting in from the kitchen as the sound of boots scuffed against the wooden floors. The sun''s glow filtering through the windows gave the room a yellow colouring, adding a sense of warmth to the otherwise busy scene. Abda and Ruslan volunteered to renew the trading license. As they departed, I couldn¡¯t help but notice the determined set of Abda¡¯s jaw. She had a way of carrying herself that exuded quiet confidence. Ruslan, meanwhile, seemed eager to contribute, though I caught a glimpse of nervousness in his expression. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± I reassured him before they left, my words accompanied by a firm pat on his shoulder. He nodded, giving a small smile before following Abda out into the city''s bustling streets. After a while, they returned along with the renewed licence which left us with the rest of the preparations. Like usual Nathanos and Leon took charge of training and relaying the information to the troops, their voices echoing from the inn¡¯s courtyard. The rhythmic clash of wooden practice swords and the sharp bark of commands punctuated the otherwise steady hum of the city. Nathanos¡¯s discipline was evident in the way the soldiers responded to his instructions, their movements precise and deliberate. Leon, on the other hand, brought a certain energy to the drills, his enthusiasm contagious as he worked alongside the men. Even from a distance, I could see the camaraderie forming among the ranks. Meanwhile, Silvana, Abda and I set out on a different mission. Our goal was to acquire goods directly from the artisans. The streets of Onira were alive with activity, with vendors calling out to passersby to sample their wares. The scent of fresh olives mingled with the tang of iron from a nearby smithy, while the clatter of a pot or pan being struck added to the city¡¯s symphony. Silvana walked beside me, her sharp eyes scanning the stalls and workshops with the precision of a hawk. ¡°This one,¡± she said, stopping abruptly in front of a weaver¡¯s shop. The artisan, an older man with calloused hands, greeted us with a wary smile. ¡°Show us your finest linens,¡± Silvana demanded, her tone firm but not unkind. The man hesitated for a moment before pulling out a roll of fabric, the intricate patterns woven into it catching the light. We struck a deal, and soon the first of many purchases was made. As the day wore on, our presence did not go unnoticed. Other traders began to eye us with suspicion, their whispered conversations growing louder as we moved from one artisan to the next. By the time we reached a pottery workshop, a group of them had gathered outside, their expressions anything but welcoming. ¡°You¡¯re wasting your time,¡± one of them sneered, stepping forward. He was a stout man with a ruddy complexion and an air of arrogance. ¡°No one in the trader¡¯s association will buy these goods from you. You¡¯re new here, so let me give you some advice: stick to the rules.¡± Silvana stepped in before I could respond, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. ¡°We¡¯re aware of the rules,¡± she said, her gaze icy. ¡°And we¡¯re also aware that there¡¯s a demand for these goods elsewhere. So if you¡¯ll excuse us, we have work to do.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The man¡¯s face reddened, but he said nothing further. With a huff, he turned and stalked off, his companions following close behind. I couldn¡¯t help but feel a flicker of unease, though I quickly pushed it aside. ¡°They won¡¯t take this lying down,¡± I muttered to Silvana and Abda as we continued our rounds. ¡°Let them try,¡± Silvana replied, her tone as sharp as the dagger she kept at her side. By the end of the day, we had amassed a respectable collection of goods: fine linens, pottery, and a small quantity of olive oil. Each item had been carefully chosen for its high demand in the Northern Empire, ensuring that even if the merchants here tried to sabotage us, we would have a market elsewhere. The plan was to travel to Myzea, a city in the Northern Empire, where these goods would fetch a fair price. However, our first stop would be Syronea, a border town in the Southern Empire. Syronea was renowned for its velvet weavers and silver workshops. The city, governed by Clan Julios under the leadership of Baranor, was a hub of industry. Baranor was a shrewd man who had transformed Syronea from a military-focused town into an industrial powerhouse. His efforts had been documented in a book he had authored himself, a text that scholars like Sora found endlessly fascinating. As we prepared for our journey, the inn buzzed with activity. The scent of roasted lamb and spiced vegetables filled the air as the innkeeper and his staff worked tirelessly to feed the bustling crowd. The sound of clinking tankards and hearty laughter echoed through the common room, a stark contrast to the quiet resolve of our group as we finalized our plans. The next morning, we gathered in the courtyard, the chill of the early hours biting at our skin. Our wagons were loaded with goods, the horses ready and restless. Abda and Silvana declared, that the goods were already loaded. ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± Silvana announced. ¡°Good work,¡± I said, nodding in approval. ¡°Now let¡¯s move. We¡¯ve got a long journey ahead.¡± The road to Syronea stretched out before us, a winding path that cut through rolling hills and dense forests. The scent of pine hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of moist soil. The clatter of wagon wheels against the uneven terrain added music to our conversations. Syronea was renowned for its silverware and velvet industries, a reputation we kept in mind while selecting our trading goods in Onira. Instead of overloading on miscellaneous items, we focused on purchasing food and linen goods, ensuring we conserved enough denars to invest wisely in Syronea. Our primary strategy was to trade goods that were in high demand but scarce in the mountainous regions of the Northern Empire. As we travelled, Sora rode up beside me. ¡°Baranor¡¯s methods are impressive,¡± she said, her voice thoughtful. ¡°Transforming Syronea like that? Is it really that Impressive.¡± I asked ¡°Impressive, yes, but it¡¯s also left the city vulnerable. The civil war has stretched their resources thin. We¡¯ll need to be careful.¡± Silvana who was riding nearby nodded, her gaze fixed on the horizon. ¡°Careful is one thing we know how to be.¡± By the time Syronea¡¯s walls came into view, the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the city. The sight was both inspiring and humbling, it was a testament to human ingenuity and resilience. As we approached the gates, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a mix of anticipation and trepidation. At the time, I had no way of knowing that the battle ahead wouldn¡¯t be a traditional clash of swords and shields. Instead, it would be a contest of cunning, veiled threats, and even the shadowy danger of assassinations. Encyclopedia-7- Republic The Northern Empire stands as a fascinating contradiction, a state that adamantly denies being a monarchy while simultaneously embodying many of the characteristics of one. The Calradians insist upon their unique identity, refusing the title of "kingdom" or "monarchy" under any circumstances. However, the structures of governance, the concentration of power, and the realities of leadership tell a different story¡ªa story of a republic struggling to reconcile its ideals with the necessities of empire. The Calradic Empire began as a league of city-states, united by a shared culture, language, and a common goal: survival in a world of constant warfare. Each city-state maintained its autonomy, governed by assemblies of free farmers who collectively decided policies and military strategies. This early society was marked by a relatively equal distribution of wealth, with land ownership spread across a broad base of free citizens. In this early period, the title of emperor was merely functional. It was granted to a military commander during times of war, a temporary position that ended once peace was restored. The Senate, composed of wealthy landowners, acted as a balancing force, ensuring no single individual could dominate the political or military landscape. This system worked well for a small coalition of city-states, but as the Empire expanded, cracks began to form. The Transformation of the Emperor Over centuries of conquest, the Empire evolved from a coalition of equals into a centralized state. Expansion brought wealth, power, and prestige, but it also brought complexity. Governing a vast, diverse empire required strong, centralized leadership. The role of the emperor grew accordingly, absorbing not only military command but also civil governance, judicial authority, and even religious influence. While the Senate remained, its power diminished over time. The popular assemblies, once the heart of Calradian democracy, became irrelevant, their functions either absorbed by the emperor or abandoned altogether. The position of emperor, once temporary and elective, became hereditary in practice, with fathers grooming their sons as successors. Yet, the Calradians refused to acknowledge this transformation. To them, the Empire could never be a monarchy because kings were tyrants, while emperors were protectors of the Republic. One of the Empire¡¯s greatest weaknesses is its lack of a smooth mechanism for succession. In theory, the process is straightforward: the emperor nominates an heir, the Senate ratifies the choice, and the people¡ªrepresented by the army¡ªacclaim it. In practice, this process rarely unfolds without conflict. Rival factions within the Senate, the military, and the aristocracy often contest the choice, leading to political instability and, more often than not, civil war. The assassination of Emperor Arenicos is the most recent example of this recurring problem. His death plunged the Empire into chaos, with multiple claimants vying for the throne. This latest civil war has divided the Empire into three factions:
  • The Northern Empire, led by Senator Lucon, upholds the supremacy of the Senate and traditional republican values.
  • The Western Empire, under Garios Comnos, represents the military''s claim to leadership.
  • The Southern Empire, ruled by Rhagaea Pethros, relied on aristocratic alliances and dynastic legitimacy.
The Northern Empire and the Illusion of Republicanism The Northern Empire, under Lucon''s leadership, positions itself as the guardian of the Republic. It claims to represent the ideals of the early Empire, advocating for a return to the balance of power between the Senate and the emperor. Lucon and his supporters argue that the Empire''s decline is the result of emperors wielding unchecked power, ignoring the Senate, and undermining the rule of law. Lucon¡¯s rhetoric is steeped in traditionalism. He frequently invokes the ancient Calradian maxim, "Without law, without the written word, there is but tyranny and the mob." To his followers, the Senate is the last bastion of republican virtue, the only institution capable of holding the Empire together.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. However, Lucon¡¯s actions tell a different story. Despite his commitment to republican values, he has concentrated power within his faction. Key positions within the Northern Empire are filled not through merit but through loyalty to Lucon. His family and close allies occupy critical roles in governance, administration, and the military, effectively creating a nepotistic oligarchy under the guise of republicanism. This hypocrisy has not gone unnoticed. Critics within the Northern Empire whisper that Lucon is no different from the emperors he decries, using the rhetoric of tradition to mask his ambitions. Some even fear that his consolidation of power will weaken the Senate further, leaving it as little more than a ceremonial body under his control. Another source of tension within the Empire is its growing economic inequality. The early Empire was a society of free farmers, relatively equal in wealth and status. Today, that egalitarian foundation has been replaced by a stark divide between the wealthy elite and the struggling masses. The Senate, once a gathering of landowners representing their communities, has become an exclusive club for the ultra-rich. Landowners and merchants wield immense power, while peasants and artisans face mounting hardships. The Empire''s laws, particularly those regulating trade, exacerbate this divide. The Northern Empire¡¯s commitment to tradition extends to its economic policies, which often favour the landed elite. While Lucon speaks of justice and equality, his government has done little to address the grievances of artisans, traders, and peasants. Smuggling is rampant in Northern cities, as artisans seek to circumvent restrictive trade laws to earn a living. The civil war has further strained the economy. Many Cities that were once thriving industrial hubs, now struggle to maintain production amidst the chaos. Resources that could be used for development are instead diverted to the war effort, leaving many Northern cities vulnerable to economic decline. The lands of the Northern Empire face constant raids from the Sturgians, whose bands of warriors descend from the frigid north, plundering farms and villages with relentless ferocity. These raids leave a devastating impact, particularly on the Empire''s agricultural output. Fields are burned, storehouses are looted, and entire communities are forced to abandon their homes. The resulting scarcity of food has pushed many Northern cities into crisis, with rising grain prices and desperate peasants adding to the simmering unrest. Despite the clear and urgent threat, Lucon has done little to address the Sturgeon incursions. His focus lies elsewhere¡ªnamely, consolidating his position within the Senate as Consul, the de facto leader of the Northern Empire. Rather than deploying sufficient forces to fortify the vulnerable borderlands or organizing campaigns to deter the raiders, Lucon diverts resources toward securing political allies and maintaining control over the Senate. Critics within the Northern Empire accuse Lucon of prioritizing his ambitions over the welfare of his people. "What good is preserving the Republic," one merchant lamented, "if the Republic cannot even protect its citizens from starving?" These voices grow louder with each passing season, but Lucon remains steadfast in his belief that only a strong Senate under his leadership can restore order¡ªthough at what cost to the common people remains to be seen. Reflection on the Calradic Empire The Northern Empire is a state caught between its past and its future. Its republican ideals, though cherished, are increasingly at odds with the realities of governing a vast, diverse territory. The Senate, once a powerful institution, now serves as a shadow of its former self, while the emperor wields power that would make the early Calradians recoil in horror. The Northern Empire, under Lucon¡¯s leadership, represents both the promise and the peril of the Empire¡¯s republican tradition. While it seeks to restore balance and accountability, it also embodies the very flaws it decries. Lucon¡¯s concentration of power and favouritism undermine his calls for justice, revealing the fragility of the Empire¡¯s republican foundations. As the civil war rages on, the Empire faces an uncertain future. Will it find a way to reconcile its ideals with the demands of governance, or will it continue to drift toward tyranny? 75. Dark Alleys The road to Syronea stretched like a serpent winding through the rugged terrain, with twisting and turning roads. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the path as the golden hues of dusk painted the horizon. The fresh air carried the faint scent of pine and the earthy aroma of damp soil from a recent rain. Occasionally, the distant cry of a hawk pierced the stillness, a reminder of the wildness that surrounded us. The landscape was a patchwork of rolling hills and dense forests, their dark shapes standing stark against the fading light. To our left, a river sparkled like molten silver, its gentle murmur blending with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. The journey had been uneventful so far. I rode at the front of the caravan, flanked by Leon and Silvana. Abda and Ruslan were behind us, keeping a watchful eye on the wagons loaded with our precious cargo. Nathanos brought up the rear, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings for any signs of trouble. Sora was deep in conversation with one of the soldiers. As we rounded a bend in the road, a group of men emerged from the shadows of the trees, blocking our path. There were six of them, dressed in mismatched armour and armed with an assortment of weapons. Their leader, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. ¡°Halt!¡± he barked, his voice rough and commanding. ¡°You¡¯re on a toll road. Pay the entrance tax, or turn back.¡± I exchanged a glance with Leon, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Something about this didn¡¯t sit right with me. Toll collectors usually operated at city gates, not in the middle of nowhere. I nudged my horse forward, stopping a few paces from the man. ¡°Entrance tax?¡± I asked, keeping my tone neutral. ¡°Since when do toll collectors operate outside the city walls?¡± The man¡¯s eyes narrowed, and I noticed a flicker of unease in his expression. He recovered quickly, though, puffing out his chest in an attempt to appear authoritative. ¡°New rules,¡± he said gruffly. ¡°Pay up, or you¡¯re not passing.¡± I leaned forward in my saddle, my gaze steady. ¡°And who, exactly, issued these new rules? The governor of Syronea ? The local magistrate? Or perhaps you¡¯re just making this up as you go along?¡± The man¡¯s face reddened, and his hand tightened on his sword. ¡°You calling me a liar?¡± he growled, taking a step closer. Before I could respond, Silvana moved her horse beside mine, her hand resting on the dagger at her side. ¡°We¡¯re not paying a single denar until you prove you have the authority to collect this tax,¡± she said, her voice cold and cutting. ¡°Show us your credentials.¡± The man hesitated, his eyes darting between Silvana and me. His companions shifted uneasily, their hands hovering over their weapons. The tension in the air was thick, and for a moment, it felt like the situation might escalate into violence. Then, the man¡¯s shoulders slumped, and he let out a frustrated sigh. ¡°Fine,¡± he muttered, stepping back. ¡°You got us. We¡¯re not officials. Just trying to make a living.¡± I felt a surge of anger but kept it in check. ¡°You¡¯re thieves, Capture them,¡± I said. The man¡¯s eyes widened in panic, and he took another step back. ¡°Wait, no! We didn¡¯t mean any harm! We¡¯ll leave, just let us go!¡± I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯ll face justice for this. Nathanos!¡± I called over my shoulder. ¡°Take them into custody.¡± Nathanos and a few of the soldiers moved forward, disarming the men and binding their hands. The would-be toll collectors offered little resistance, their boldness evaporating in the face of our numbers. As they were led away to one of the wagons, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of unease. This encounter was too convenient, too staged. Were they just opportunistic thieves, or was there more to this?This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. We continued on our way, the incident leaving a lingering tension among the group. The sun dipped below the horizon, and the sky darkened, the first stars beginning to twinkle overhead. By the time we reached the outskirts of Syronea , the city¡¯s walls loomed ahead, their imposing silhouette lit by the flickering glow of torches. The gates were closed for the night, but the guards checked our papers and allowed us entry after a brief exchange. Exhausted from the day¡¯s journey, we retired to an inn near the garrison. We planned to hand over criminals to the authorities tomorrow to get a bounty. The common room was warm and inviting, the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filling the air. The sound of laughter and clinking tankards provided a comforting backdrop as we settled in for the night. After a hearty meal, I decided to take a stroll through the city with Leon. The streets were quiet, the occasional passerby hurrying along with their heads down. The cool night air was refreshing, and the faint glow of lanterns cast a soft light on the cobblestones. We turned a corner, entering a narrow alleyway. The shadows here were deeper, the air cooler. I was about to suggest we head back when a movement caught my eye. Before I could react, a figure lunged out of the darkness, a blade glinting in the dim light. ¡°Augustus, look out!¡± Leon shouted, shoving me aside. The blade struck Leon¡¯s arm, slicing through his sleeve and drawing blood. He grunted in pain but quickly recovered, drawing his sword and stepping between me and the attacker. The assassin¡ªa lithe figure clad in dark clothing¡ªhesitated for a moment before lunging again. Leon parried the strike, his movements swift and precise. The clash of steel echoed through the alley as the two engaged in a deadly dance. I drew my weapon, ready to intervene, but Leon held up a hand. ¡°Stay back!¡± he barked, his focus never wavering from his opponent. The assassin was skilled, but Leon was better. With a series of quick, calculated strikes, he disarmed the attacker, sending the blade clattering to the ground. The assassin stumbled back, their eyes wide with fear, before turning and fleeing into the shadows. Leon started to give chase, but I stopped him. ¡°Let them go,¡± I said, my voice firm. ¡°You¡¯re hurt.¡± He looked down at his arm, where blood was seeping through the fabric of his sleeve. ¡°It¡¯s just a scratch,¡± he said, though his voice was tight with pain. I shook my head. ¡°We need to get that cleaned and bandaged. Come on.¡± We returned to the inn, where Silvana and Abda were waiting. They immediately sprang into action, tending to Leon¡¯s wound while I recounted what had happened. The mood in the room was sombre, the weight of the attack hanging heavily over us. ¡°This changes things,¡± Sora said once Leon¡¯s arm was bandaged. ¡°If someone¡¯s trying to kill you, Augustus, we need to be more careful.¡± I nodded, my mind racing. ¡°Agreed. But we also need to find out who¡¯s behind this. This wasn¡¯t a random attack. Someone wants us¡ªor me¡ªdead.¡± Abda, who had been silent until now, spoke up. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s connected to the traders in Onira? Or maybe the men we arrested earlier?¡± ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± I said. ¡°But we don¡¯t have enough information to be sure. For now, we¡¯ll increase our security and stay vigilant.¡± The others nodded, their expressions grim. We spent the rest of the night discussing our next steps, the tension in the room palpable. Despite the warmth of the fire and the comfort of the inn, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that we were being watched, that danger lurked just beyond the edges of our awareness. As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts turned to the journey ahead. The road to Syronea was fraught with peril, and it seemed that every step brought us closer to the heart of a conflict we didn¡¯t fully understand. The attack on Leon¡ªand by extension, on me¡ªwas a stark reminder of the stakes we were playing for. I thought about Leon, his unwavering loyalty and bravery. He had saved my life tonight, and I owed him more than I could ever repay. But I also knew that he would never ask for anything in return. That was just the kind of man he was. But in the morning, we were met with troubling news¡ªthe thieves we had captured the previous day had already escaped. 76. Hidden The morning air carried the lingering embers of last night¡¯s torches. Syronea was slow to wake, the streets still draped in the hush of dawn, save for the distant cries of merchants setting up their stalls. A thick mist clung to the cobblestone roads, curling around the wooden beams of the buildings, giving the city an eerie stillness. Silvana met me at the door of the inn, her face grim. She didn¡¯t waste time with pleasantries. ¡°They¡¯re gone,¡± she said. I blinked. ¡°Who¡¯s gone?¡± ¡°The thieves. The ones we kept in the basement last night.¡± A cold unease crept down my spine. ¡°Escaped?¡± She nodded and motioned for me to follow. We strode through the inn, down into the damp, musty basement where they had been held. The scent of stale air clung to the stone walls, mingling with the acrid bite of spilt wine. The torches flickered weakly, casting long shadows against the walls. Then I saw it. A crude symbol smeared in dark red on the back wall. A handprint¡ªfive fingers spread wide, either the paint or blood, had been hastily applied. ¡°The Red Hand,¡± Silvana muttered. ¡°This wasn¡¯t here last night.¡± I exhaled sharply. ¡°What does it mean?¡± She shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s a warning. A signature. Someone wanted us to know they can reach anywhere.¡± I stared at the symbol, my mind working through the implications. Whoever had freed those men had done so effortlessly. No forced doors, no bloodshed. Just a silent message left behind. Before I could respond, footsteps echoed from the stairs. Sora entered, her expression unusually tense. The tension in the air deepened as she crossed her arms and fixed me with a hard stare. ¡°Syronea isn¡¯t what it used to be,¡± she said. I turned away from the symbol, facing her fully. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°This city was a military stronghold, a garrison hub,¡± she began. ¡°But things have changed. Have you noticed how the people live?¡± I frowned. I had seen the bustling markets, the steady flow of trade, the well-guarded streets. But something had been off¡ªno one seemed particularly wealthy. The vendors sold their goods with the desperation of men barely scraping by. The inns were filled, but the patrons were not spending lavishly. It had felt... stagnant. Sora continued, ¡°You would expect prosperity, given how much trade moves through here. But look around. Do these people look wealthy? Does this city feel rich?¡± I thought back to Onira, to the extravagant feasts, the opulent homes of merchants who profited from the chaos of war. Syronea, despite its trade and industry, bore no such luxuries. ¡°So where¡¯s all the money going?¡± I asked. ¡°That,¡± she said, ¡°is the right question.¡± She paced slightly, her movements restless. ¡°This city seems to be a hub for the Hidden Hands.¡± The words settled like a weight on my chest. The Hidden Hands. I had heard the name before, but always in hushed whispers, half-truths and rumours traded between wary merchants. They weren¡¯t a simple gang like the Embers of Flame. They were something far worse. ¡°They are not a force you can simply cut down,¡± Sora said. ¡°They are embedded within Syronea¡¯s walls, its trade, its ruling class. You cannot eradicate them by force. They thrive in the dark, weaving through the city like veins through a body.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. I gritted my teeth. ¡°And you think last night¡¯s attack was connected to them?¡± She hesitated. ¡°Perhaps. But there are too many possibilities. We have enemies among the traders¡ªwhen we bought the license. That alone could make us a target.¡± I exhaled slowly, considering her words. ¡°You¡¯re saying this could be a retaliation for getting the trade license, for breaking some agreement with the traders'' union?¡± Sora shook her head. ¡°No. If that were the case, we¡¯d have faced political backlash, not assassins in the night. This is about something else.¡± I crossed my arms. ¡°And you believe it¡¯s because we refused to pay their ¡®fee¡¯ for protection?¡± She nodded. ¡°It makes the most sense. The Hidden Hands don¡¯t care for official trade disputes. They care about power. Influence. Money. You refused to play by their rules, so they reminded you of the consequences.¡± A silence stretched between us, thick with the weight of unspoken truths. ¡°We need to leave this city,¡± she said finally. ¡°The longer we stay, the greater the risk.¡± ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll be attacked on the road?¡± I asked. ¡°There¡¯s always a possibility,¡± she admitted. ¡°But if we pay what they ask, they might leave us alone long enough to get out safely.¡± The words tasted bitter. To pay off criminals, to bow to unseen masters¡ªit went against every instinct in my body. But as much as I despised the idea, I wasn¡¯t blind to reality. Sora met my gaze. ¡°We can¡¯t win every fight, Augustus. Not yet. Against enemies like these, sometimes it¡¯s better to accept defeat and move forward.¡± The weight of the decision settled heavily on my shoulders. Syronea was a city caught in invisible chains, its wealth drained into the shadows, its people trapped in a system they could not fight. And now, I was caught in that web. I turned back to the symbol on the wall, the Red Hand smeared in defiance. For now, we would leave. But I wasn¡¯t one to forget. One day, the Hidden Hands would answer for what they had done to Syronea, Leon and all the people forced to live in fear. I would make sure of it.
As we packed our things that afternoon, the city outside seemed unchanged. The same merchants, the same guards, the same routine. But I see it differently now. I saw the invisible hands pulling the strings, the hidden force that ruled the streets. I knew there was one last matter to settle. I called Nathanos to accompany me. Together, we made our way downstairs to the common room of the inn. The few remaining customers sat hunched over their drinks, lost in their concerns. The innkeeper stood behind the counter, wiping a wooden mug with slow, deliberate strokes. His eyes flicked up as we approached, but he did not greet us. I leaned against the counter, lowering my voice. ¡°I know you were forced to act the way you did.¡± His hand stilled for the briefest moment before he resumed cleaning. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean, sir.¡± I held his gaze. ¡°You know exactly what I mean. The Hidden Hand. I¡¯m not here to make your life difficult¡ªI understand how things work in this city. I know you had no choice.¡± A heavy silence stretched between us. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders sinking slightly. ¡°And what is it you want from me?¡± ¡°I want a meeting. With whoever collects the protection tax.¡± The innkeeper hesitated, then gave a short nod. Without another word, he moved toward the back, disappearing through a narrow door. A few minutes later, a hooded figure emerged, his steps soundless against the wooden floor. He took a seat at an empty table near the fireplace, his posture relaxed yet watchful. The flickering firelight barely touched his face, but I could see the cold amusement in his eyes as he gestured for us to sit. I took the seat across from him. Nathanos remained standing, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. ¡°You understand the way things work here,¡± the agent said smoothly, his voice like silk over steel. ¡°That¡¯s good. It saves us both trouble.¡± I kept my tone even. ¡°I¡¯m not looking for trouble. I want safe passage. That means settling our accounts.¡± The agent smirked. ¡°Smart man.¡± He tapped a gloved finger against the table. ¡°Five hundred denars.¡± I clenched my jaw, but I had expected this. Without a word, I reached into my pouch and set the coins down, one by one. The sound of metal against wood felt heavier than it should. The agent swept them up, pocketing the sum in a single fluid motion. ¡°Wise choice,¡± he said. ¡°You won¡¯t be bothered on your way out.¡± With that, he rose and disappeared into the shadows of the inn. I sat there for a moment, staring at the space he had occupied. A part of me seethed at the thought of handing over my hard-earned coin to criminals. But another part¡ªthe pragmatic side¡ªknew that this was the cost of doing business in a city ruled from the shadows. Some battles weren¡¯t worth fighting. Not yet. Authors Note - 2 Hi Everyone, I just wanted to update you about the delay in releasing the new chapters of the story. Unfortunately, due to some personal issues, I¡¯ve been unable to take some time off to continue with the updates. I appreciate your patience during this time, and I¡¯m grateful to everyone who has continued to support the story thus far. There¡¯s a lot I¡¯ve been planning for the upcoming chapters ¨C including the addition of a Nordic companion, a large-scale battle at the end of this volume, and of course, the marriage of Nathanos. For the next volume, I¡¯m considering the title "All Roads Lead to Epicrotea," if you¡¯ve been keeping up with the story, you can pretty much guess the developments in that volume. I¡¯ve already planned everything up to Volume 3, and I¡¯m particularly excited about where the story is headed. Regarding the last battle in Volume 1, I remember some readers asking about the scale, as they felt it was too small. I¡¯ve been striving to keep it close to the Bannerlord game¡¯s scale, where armies in the late game can reach around 3k, with typical sizes around 1k. To address this, I¡¯m planning to include multiple armies with sizes up to 3k in special battles, while most general battles will remain around the 1k mark.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. A huge thanks to CyberSorceress for the corrections and critiques you provided. I appreciate your input, though, to be honest, I¡¯ve not had the time to go through everything yet. Rest assured, once I¡¯m back on track, I will make sure to address those suggestions. I want to say thank you all for sticking with this story up until now. I¡¯m committed to getting back to work on it. I have four chapters almost completed, and once I¡¯m back home this weekend, I¡¯ll release them after some proofreading. Apart from those four chapters, I plan to continue the writing process by mid-March. Thanks for your support. 77. New Merchants The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the rolling hills as we crossed the border into the Northern Empire. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the distant murmur of a flowing river. The journey from Syronea had been fraught with tension, but here, the landscape seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The border villages we passed through were surprisingly well-kept, their cobblestone streets lined with sturdy timber-framed houses. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the sound of children laughing echoed through the air. It was a stark contrast to the ragged, war-torn settlements we had encountered between the Aserai and the Western Empire in the past. Sora rode beside me, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "These villages are too peaceful for border towns," she remarked, her voice tinged with suspicion. "Something feels different." I nodded in agreement. "Perhaps the clashes between the Northern Empire and the Southern Empire have eased up in recent years." Abda, being the pragmatist one in the group, grunted from behind us. "Peace or not, we¡¯ve got goods to sell and a contract to secure. Let¡¯s not waste time." The city of Myzea loomed ahead, its high stone walls and watchtowers standing as a testament to the empire¡¯s might. The gates were bustling with activity¡ªmerchants hawking their wares, soldiers patrolling the perimeter, and travellers from all corners of the realm seeking refuge or opportunity. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted through the air, mingling with the less pleasant odours of sweat and livestock. Myzea was alive, a city that thrived despite the chaos gripping the northern lands. We dismounted at the city gates, where a pair of guards scrutinized our papers. One of them, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, eyed our caravan with suspicion. "What¡¯s your business in Myzea?" he demanded. "Trade," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "We¡¯ve come to sell goods from the Southern Empire." The guard grunted, his eyes lingering on Nathanos and his imposing frame. "You¡¯ll need to pay the toll. And don¡¯t think about setting up shop without the proper permits." I handed over a pouch of coins, careful to include a few extra denars as a bribe. The guard¡¯s demeanour softened slightly, and he waved us through. As we made our way into the city, Sora leaned in close. "Daylight robbery," she muttered. "These officials are no better than the Hidden Hand." I couldn¡¯t argue with her. The corruption was blatant, but it was a necessary evil if we wanted to operate within the city¡¯s walls. We found a suitable spot in the market square and began setting up our stall. The process was tedious, requiring more bribes and paperwork than I cared to deal with. By the time we were ready to open, the sun was high in the sky, and the market was teeming with potential customers.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Our goods¡ªtools, silks, and grains from the Southern Empire¡ªsold quickly. The Northern Empire¡¯s scarcity of food had driven prices up, and the people of Myzea were eager to stock up. As I haggled with a merchant over a bolt of fine silk, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. We were turning a profit, and that was a rare win in these uncertain times. But our success was not without its challenges. The constant raids by the Sturgians had left the northern farmlands barren, and the empire was struggling to feed its people. The government had implemented measures to address the crisis. They put up a maximum selling price restriction on all the food items. Even after the restriction we were making profits. The government was purchasing grain at fixed prices and hiring escorts to transport it to the northern towns. It was a system ripe for exploitation, and I intended to take full advantage. As the day wore on, I found myself reflecting on our journey. We had come a long way since our misadventures in Syronea, but the road ahead was still uncertain. The Hidden Hand¡¯s influence loomed large, and our enemies in the Southern Empire were never far from my thoughts. We needed a plan, a way to secure our future in this volatile world. That evening, as we gathered in a dimly lit tavern to discuss our next move, we estimated that it will take us hardly a couple of days to sell our goods in the town. We then started discussing about the future plans. Sora laid out a map on the table. "If we want to attend our friend¡¯s marriage we have two options," she began giving Nathanos a teasing look while her finger traced a line from Myzea to Elefethroi Castle. "We can take the direct route through Syronea, but that would mean risking another encounter with the Hidden Hand. Or we can take the longer path through the East, where we will have to move through Khuzait territory." Nathanos leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "I say we avoid Syronea. We¡¯ve made enough enemies as it is." I nodded in agreement. "The eastern route it is. But first, I wanted to let you guys know about an opportunity to earn easy money. I am sure Abda would like to explain it in detail" Abda, who had been quietly sipping her ale, spoke up. "I¡¯ve heard the merchant guild in Myzea is hiring mercenaries to supply some aid in a castle in north East. We could approach them tomorrow to get that contract". I continued ¡°We might have to travel a little more but it''s easy money as sturgians won¡¯t raid a settlement that¡¯s already been raided.¡± As the conversation continued, I found my thoughts drifting to Silvana. She had been quiet since we entered Myzea, her sharp eyes always scanning the crowd. She was like this since we left Syronea. Probably the encounter with hidden hand left a mark on her. I made a mental note to speak with her later, to ensure she was holding up under the pressure. The tavern grew louder as the night wore on, the air thick with the smell of ale and the sound of raucous laughter. But amidst the chaos, I found a moment of clarity. We were a team, bound together by circumstance and necessity. We had our strengths and our weaknesses, but together, we had a chance to carve out a place in this unforgiving world. I raised my tankard in a silent toast to my companions, 78. Opportunity and Problem The morning air bit at my cheeks as we rode out of Myzea, the city¡¯s towering walls shrinking behind us with each passing mile. The chill of the Northern Empire was relentless, a sharp contrast to the sweltering heat of the Aserai desert. I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders, the thick wool doing little to stave off the icy wind that swept across the open plains. For the first time in years, I found myself longing for the dry, scorching sands of the south. At least there, the sun was a constant companion, not this bitter, unyielding cold that seeped into your bones. Our caravan moved steadily, the creak of wagon wheels and the rhythmic clop of hooves against the ground filling the air. The grain shipment we had taken on was a lucrative contract, one that would take us northeast to a castle recently ravaged by Sturgian raiders. The pay was good¡ªgood enough to justify the detour and the risk of venturing closer to Sturgian territory. Sora had argued that avoiding Syronea was worth the extra mile, and I agreed. The Hidden Hand¡¯s reach was long, and I had no desire to test it again so soon. The landscape around us was bleak but hauntingly beautiful. Dusted fields stretched endlessly, broken only by the occasional copse of skeletal trees or the faint outline of a distant farmstead. The sky was a pale grey, heavy with the promise of snow. The scent of pine and frost clung to the air, and the silence of the wilderness was broken only by the occasional cry of a distant bird or the rustle of wind through the trees. It was a land of stark contrasts¡ªpeaceful yet unforgiving, serene yet fraught with danger. As we travelled, I struck up a conversation with the man assigned to oversee the grain shipment. His name was Gregor, a grizzled veteran with a thick beard and a voice like gravel. He had been working these supply routes for years and knew the struggles of the Northern Empire better than most. ¡°The Sturgians hit us hard,¡± Gregor said, his breath visible in the cold air. ¡°Burned half the villages along the northern coast. Took everything they could carry and left the rest in ashes. The senate¡¯s been scrambling to allocate funds for rebuilding, but it¡¯s never enough.¡± I nodded, my gaze fixed on the horizon. ¡°Where do the funds come from? Taxes?¡± Gregor let out a bitter laugh. ¡°Taxes, donations¡ªthough good luck finding anyone willing to part with their coin these days. The Northern Empire is not like the others. We don¡¯t have the wealth of the Southern Empire or the military might of the Western Empire. We¡¯re just trying to survive.¡± His words painted a grim picture. The Northern Empire was a fragile state, caught between the ambitions of its neighbours and the constant threat of invasion. The peace agreements with the Southern and Western Empires had bought some respite, but they came at a cost¡ªan annual ransom that drained the empire¡¯s already limited resources. And yet, despite its vulnerabilities, the Northern Empire endured, relying on its militia of part-time farmers and warriors to defend its borders.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Why not raise a standing army?¡± I asked, curious. ¡°It would make defending against the Sturgians easier.¡± Gregor shook his head. ¡°Too expensive. The Senate prefers to keep costs low. Besides, the militia¡¯s done well enough so far. They know the land, and they fight like hell to protect their homes.¡± As the hours turned into days, Gregor shared more about the empire¡¯s struggles¡ªthe Khuzait skirmishes in the east, the Battanian raids in the west, and the constant threat of Sturgian incursions. The war between the Battanians and the Western Empire had, at least, secured the Western front for now, but it was a fragile peace. The Northern Empire was a land under siege, and its people were resilient but weary. We reached the castle after travelling for one more day, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the snow-covered ground. The fortress loomed ahead, its stone walls scarred by recent battles. The gates creaked open as we approached, and a group of soldiers emerged to greet us. Their faces were grim, their eyes hollow with exhaustion. It was clear that the Sturgian raids had taken their toll. We unloaded the grain in silence. As I watched the soldiers carry the sacks into the castle. I thought to myself This was a land on the brink, its people clinging to survival in the face of overwhelming odds. And yet, there was a quiet strength here, a determination to endure no matter the cost perhaps it was because they believed in this form of government where they felt they had the powers although it wasn¡¯t the case. That night, as we camped outside the castle walls, Sora joined me by the fire in the camp, her sharp eyes scanning the darkness beyond the camp. ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡± she asked, her voice soft but probing. ¡°Just thinking about the road ahead,¡± I replied, staring into the flames. ¡°We will be moving through the lands of Khuzait and I have heard Eleftheroi doesn¡¯t like them that much¡± Sora pointed ¡°So you are worried about Ruslan? I think he can cope with that I don¡¯t think anyone can¡± As she was about to complete her sentence we saw Nathanos at the entrance of the camp with a sense of urgency. I asked what had happened, and he told me that the castle¡¯s commander was requesting my presence¡ªit was urgent. Without hesitation, I threw on my jacket and made my way into the castle, Nathanos following close behind. The air inside was heavy with the scent of burning torches and the faint tang of iron, a reminder of the fortress¡¯s martial purpose. We were greeted by Lord Nicasor, the commander of the fortress, a man whose stern demeanour was matched only by the sharpness of his eyes. He wasted no time in explaining the situation. ¡°We have both an opportunity and a problem,¡± he began, his voice low and measured. He went on to detail how their patrols had been sent to assess the damage in nearby villages, intending to determine when the displaced peasants could safely return to their homes. However, during their reconnaissance, the patrols had stumbled upon a Sturgian raiding party. This was unexpected¡ªthe Sturgians were believed to have already withdrawn from the region. ¡°It¡¯s likely a small group that was left behind,¡± Lord Nicasor speculated. ¡°Perhaps they were separated from the main force during their plundering of the coastal areas. Maybe they lost their ships or were abandoned by their comrades. But that¡¯s not all.¡± His expression darkened as he delivered the next piece of news. The scouting party had spotted the banners of the Isyaroving clan, a clear indication that this was no ordinary raiding party. It was Fafen¡¯s group¡ªFafen, the Lord of Sibir. Encyclopedia-9- Sturgia and its Customs The Sturgians, a fierce and hardy people of Calradia, are known for their martial prowess, seafaring traditions, and resilience in the face of harsh climates, the Sturgians occupy the northern reaches of the continent, a land of dense forests, snow-covered plains, and rugged coastlines. Their society is deeply rooted in warfare, clan loyalty, and survival in an unforgiving environment. The Sturgian homeland is located in the northernmost part of Calradia, a region characterized by its cold climate, vast pine forests, and icy shores. The terrain is both a blessing and a curse: the dense woodlands provide ample resources for timber and hunting, while the snow-covered plains and frozen rivers make agriculture difficult. The Sturgians have adapted to their environment by relying heavily on fishing, raiding, and trade to supplement their limited agricultural output. The coastal cities, such as Reyvadin and Tyal, serve as vital hubs for trade and naval activities. These settlements are often fortified with wooden palisades and stone walls, reflecting the constant threat of invasion from rival factions or internal conflicts. The Sturgians are organized into a loose confederation of clans, each led by a chieftain or jarl. These clans are bound together by a shared culture and language, but they often compete for power and resources. At the top of the hierarchy is the High King often referred to as Prince, who is chosen from among the most powerful jarls. The High King¡¯s authority is not absolute; he must rely on the loyalty of his vassals to maintain control over the realm. The Sturgian political system is heavily influenced by their warrior ethos. Leadership is earned through strength, cunning, and the ability to inspire loyalty. Succession is not strictly hereditary; while a jarl¡¯s son may inherit his father¡¯s title, he must prove himself worthy through deeds of valour and strategic acumen. This meritocratic approach ensures that only the most capable leaders rise to power, but it also fosters a culture of rivalry and ambition. The Thing, a traditional assembly of free men, plays a significant role in Sturgian governance. It serves as a forum for resolving disputes, making laws, and deciding matters of war and peace. While the High King and Jarls hold considerable influence, the Thing ensures that the voices of the common people are heard, at least to some extent. The Sturgians hold a unique tradition that underscores their reverence for strength and lineage: they often send their daughters to marry powerful warriors or influential leaders, not only to forge alliances but also to ensure that their bloodline is strengthened by the union. Once such a marriage is established, the Sturgians proudly display the portraits of these formidable sons-in-law in their great halls, claiming them as part of their lineage. This practice serves a dual purpose: it honours the achievements of the individual while reinforcing the prestige and reputation of the Sturgian clan. By integrating these strong men into their family narratives, the Sturgians not only secure political and martial advantages but also weave a tapestry of legacy and pride, ensuring that their descendants inherit both the valour and the renown of their ancestors. The Sturgians are renowned for their martial prowess, and their society revolves around warfare. From a young age, Sturgian men are trained in the use of axes, swords, and shields, and they take great pride in their ability to fight. The Sturgian military is composed of both professional warriors and levied troops, with the latter drawn from the ranks of farmers, hunters, and craftsmen during times of war. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The Druzhinniks, heavily armoured cavalry, form the elite core of the Sturgian army. These warriors are typically drawn from the nobility and serve as the personal retinues of jarls and the High King. However, the backbone of the Sturgian military is its infantry, particularly the Shield Wall. This formation, consisting of tightly packed warriors wielding large round shields and spears, is nearly impervious to frontal assaults and has become a hallmark of Sturgian tactics. Naval warfare also plays a significant role in Sturgian culture. Their longships, sleek and swift, allowed them to raid coastal settlements and conduct trade across the northern seas. These raids, known as ¡°Sturgeon Expeditions,¡± are both a means of acquiring wealth and a rite of passage for young warriors. The Sturgian economy is a mix of subsistence farming, fishing, hunting, and raiding. The harsh climate limits agricultural productivity, forcing the Sturgians to rely on trade and plunder to supplement their resources. Grain, furs, and timber are among their primary exports, while they import luxury goods such as wine, silk, and spices from the south. Daily life in Sturgia is shaped by the demands of survival. Villages are small and tightly knit, with families working together to tend crops, herd livestock, and defend their homes from predators and raiders. The long winters are spent indoors, crafting tools, weapons, and clothing, while the short summers are a time of intense activity, as people prepare for the coming cold. Despite their reputation as warriors, the Sturgians are also skilled craftsmen. Their blacksmiths produce some of the finest weapons and armour in Calradia, while their shipbuilders are unmatched in the art of constructing longships. The Sturgians worship a pantheon of gods, each associated with different aspects of life and nature. Vornos, the god of war and storms, is particularly revered, as are Svarogia, the god of fire and craftsmanship, and Moraneon, the goddess of winter and death. Religious ceremonies often involve feasting, storytelling, and sacrifices and are held in sacred groves or temples. Storytelling and poetry are central to Sturgian culture. Skalds, or bards, are highly respected figures who preserve the history and legends of their people through epic tales and songs. These stories often glorify the deeds of heroes and ancestors, reinforcing the values of bravery, loyalty, and honour. The Sturgians also place great importance on hospitality. A guest, once welcomed into a Sturgian home, is treated with the utmost respect and generosity. This tradition stems from the harshness of their environment, where cooperation and mutual aid are essential for survival. Despite their strength and resilience, the Sturgians face numerous challenges. Their decentralized political structure makes them vulnerable to internal strife, while their reliance on raiding and plunder has earned them the enmity of neighbouring factions. The rise of powerful empires such as the Vlandians and the Khuzaits has further threatened their independence, forcing the Sturgians to adapt or risk being absorbed by their rivals. In recent years, the Sturgians have struggled to maintain their traditional way of life in the face of changing times. The increasing influence of southern cultures, the decline of raiding as a viable economic strategy, and the pressures of external threats have all contributed to a sense of uncertainty about their future. The Sturgians are a proud and formidable people, shaped by their harsh environment and warrior traditions. Their society, though often seen as primitive by their southern neighbours, is a complex and adaptive one, capable of great feats of strength and ingenuity. As Calradia continues to change, the Sturgians must find a way to preserve their identity while navigating the challenges of a rapidly evolving world. Whether they will rise to greatness or fade into history remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: the Sturgians will not go quietly. 79. The Raiding party Nicasor leaned over the map spread across the table, his finger tracing a line south of the fort. ¡°This is where they¡¯ve been spotted,¡± he said, his voice low but firm. ¡°A group of Fafen stragglers, no more than thirty men. They¡¯re not a threat to the fort, but they¡¯re like wolves¡ªsmall, but dangerous if left to roam. They¡¯ll raid villages, disrupt supply lines, and sow chaos. We can¡¯t afford to ignore them.¡± I exchanged a glance with Nathanos. It was evident Nicasor couldn¡¯t afford to lose more men, not with the war brewing on multiple fronts. That¡¯s where we came in. ¡°You¡¯ll have seven Palatine Guards,¡± Nicasor continued, his tone leaving no room for debate. ¡°And ten recruits from the villages. They¡¯re not soldiers, but they¡¯ll follow orders. Your task is simple: find the Fafen group, eliminate them, and ensure they don¡¯t threaten our supply routes or the villages. Can I trust you with this?¡± I stepped forward, my voice steady. ¡°You can, my lord. We¡¯ll handle it.¡± Nicasor nodded, though the lines on his face didn¡¯t soften. ¡°Good. Move quickly. The longer they¡¯re out there, the more damage they¡¯ll do.¡± I hesitated for a moment, glancing out the narrow window of the war room. The sun had long since set, and the castle grounds were bathed in the pale silver light of the moon. ¡°My lord,¡± I began carefully, ¡°it¡¯s night. Moving now would put us at a disadvantage. The Fafen are likely camped and resting, but if we march out in the dark, we risk walking into an ambush. Our recruits aren¡¯t trained for night manoeuvres they will struggle to maintain formation in unfamiliar terrain.¡± Nicasor¡¯s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he might dismiss my concerns outright. But then he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ¡°You think waiting until dawn is the better option?¡± ¡°I do,¡± I said firmly. ¡°We¡¯ll lose nothing by waiting a few hours, and we¡¯ll gain the advantage of daylight. The Fafen won¡¯t expect us to move so quickly, and by the time they realize we¡¯re coming, it¡¯ll be too late.¡± Nicasor with an apologetic smile ¡°I must be honest with you. The Northern Empire¡¯s coffers are strained, and I cannot pay you for this mission in coin. However,¡± he continued, raising a hand to forestall any protest, ¡°I will compensate you in another way. All the loot taken from the Sturgians is yours to keep¡ªtheir weapons, armour, anything of value. And the prisoners you¡¯ve captured are yours as well. Do with them as you see fit. Ransom them, sell them, or put them to work Sturgians are sturdy people¡ªvaluable, whether for ransom or service. If they cooperate, we can send them back to their lords for a bounty. If not, they¡¯ll be handed over to the Northern Empire as slaves. Either way, it¡¯s a gain for us. Nicasor¡¯s gaze sharpened, and he leaned back in his chair, studying me with a mix of curiosity and calculation. ¡°You¡¯ve thought this through,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Very well. But remember, if this plan of yours backfires, the responsibility falls on you. I expect results, not excuses.¡± As we left the war room, Nathanos shot me a sideways glance. ¡°You¡¯re getting bold, questioning Nicasor like that.¡± ¡°Someone has to,¡± I replied, keeping my voice low. ¡°I¡¯m not leading my troops into a slaughter just because he¡¯s impatient.¡± Nathanos couldn¡¯t hold the question that had been in his mind ¡°And what of their leadership? Do you think this group will surrender easily?¡± ¡°I suspect they will,¡± I said, my tone confident. ¡°From the reports, Fafen or his sons aren¡¯t leading this group. They¡¯re likely demoralized and disorganized, without a capable commanding officer. That makes them easier to deal with. They¡¯ll be more concerned with survival than putting up a fight.¡±
As the moon hung high in the night sky, I called for a meeting with my squad members and the Palatine Guards. We gathered in a dimly lit corner of the barracks, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of oiled leather and steel. The leader of the Palatine Guards, a tall, broad-shouldered man named Captain Draven, stood at the forefront, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. My core squad¡ªSora, Silvana, Nathanos and the others¡ªstood close, their eyes fixed on me. ¡°Listen up,¡± I began, my voice low but carrying enough weight to silence the murmurs. ¡°We move at first light. I know some of you are worried about the Sturgians attacking a village tonight, but there¡¯s little we can do about that right now. My priority is your safety, and charging into the dark with untrained recruits and unfamiliar terrain is a risk we can¡¯t afford.¡± I continued. ¡°We¡¯re no good to anyone if we¡¯re dead or scattered in the dark. We¡¯ll move at dawn, catch them off guard, and put an end to this. Trust me, this is the best way.¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Our goal is to capture, not kill. Sturgians are sturdy people¡ªvaluable, whether for ransom or service. But make no mistake, they¡¯re dangerous. The Fafen raiding party is armed with axes, which can cleave through shields if given the chance. And their shield wall formation is tight¡ªshields packed together so tightly that any charge is reflected by dozens of shields at once. If you attack one, you¡¯re attacking all of them.¡± Silvana grunted. ¡°So how do we break them without getting ourselves killed?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t break them head-on,¡± I replied. ¡°We outmaneuver them. Their formation is strong, but it¡¯s slow. We¡¯ll use our mobility to flank them, disrupt their lines, and force them to scatter. The Palatine Guards and your crossbowmen will rain volleys on them from a distance. Stay close, stay disciplined, and follow orders. If we do this right, we¡¯ll take them down with minimal losses.¡±
The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a pale golden glow across the rolling hills. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dew and damp earth. Our forces stood in formation, a mix of seasoned fighters and nervous recruits, their breath visible in the cool morning air. I rode along the line. Beside me, Sora surveyed the terrain with sharp eyes, while Silvana, adjusted her bowstring with practised ease. Nathanos barked orders at the infantry while Abda, the medic, checked her supplies one last time. The borrowed troops¡ªseven Palatine Guards and ten recruits¡ªstood in disciplined ranks, their armour gleaming faintly in the early light. In the distance, the Sturgian raiding party came into view. They were a formidable sight: thirty strong, their shields locked together in a tight formation, axes and spears glinting in their hands. Their shield wall was impenetrable at a glance, a bristling fortress of wood and steel. But I had a plan, and we all knew our roles. ¡°Archers, ready!¡± Sora called out, her voice cutting through the stillness. Silvana and a handful of others nocked their arrows, their eyes fixed on the approaching enemy. ¡°Wait for my signal.¡± The Sturgians advanced steadily, their pace deliberate, their shields raised high. They were disciplined, but their movements were slow, weighed down by the heavy formation. Sora raised her hand, his gaze locked on the enemy. ¡°Hold¡­ hold¡­¡± The tension was palpable. The recruits shifted nervously, their knuckles white on their spears. Nathanos growled at them to steady themselves, his voice a low rumble. ¡°Stay in line! Don¡¯t break unless I say so!¡± ¡°Now!¡± Sora¡¯s voice rang out, and a volley of arrows and bolts arced through the sky, raining down on the Sturgians. The arrows clattered against their shields, most deflected, but a few found their mark, causing gaps to appear in their formation. The Sturgians roared in defiance, their pace quickening as they closed the distance. ¡°Second volley!¡± Sora commanded, and another wave of volleys flew. This time, the Sturgians raised their shields higher, their formation tightening further. But their advance slowed, their energy already beginning to wane under the constant barrage. I turned to Nathanos. ¡°Keep them at range. Tire them out. We¡¯ll commit to melee only when they¡¯re exhausted.¡± Nathanos nodded, his expression grim. ¡°You heard him! Hold the line! Spears forward!¡± The infantry formed a defensive wall, their spears bristling like the quills of a porcupine. The Sturgians, now within shouting distance, hurled insults and challenges, but their voices were tinged with frustration. They were used to quick, brutal fights, not this drawn-out game of attrition. For what felt like an eternity, we held our ground, trading arrows and taunts. The Sturgians¡¯ shield wall began to falter, their movements sluggish, their formation loosening. I seized the moment. ¡°Now! Cavalry, flank them! Break their lines!¡± Ruslan and Leon with mixed Khujait Slave and Aserai Cavalary, surged forward with a thunderous roar. They swept around the Sturgians¡¯ flanks, their lances lowered, their charge unstoppable. The Sturgians, already exhausted, couldn¡¯t maintain their formation. Their shield walls crumbled under the weight of the cavalry¡¯s assault, and chaos erupted. ¡°Infantry, advance!¡± Nathanos bellowed, leading the charge. The recruits, emboldened by the sight of the Sturgians breaking, followed with a ragged cheer. The melee was fierce but brief. The Sturgians, now scattered and disorganized, fought with desperation, but their morale was shattered. After an hour or two, the battle was over. The surviving Sturgians threw down their weapons, their faces pale with defeat. I rode forward, with my sword still in hand but lowered. ¡°Take them alive!¡± I ordered. ¡°Bind them and secure the area!¡± The Palatine Guards and recruits moved quickly, rounding up the captives. Silvana and her crossbowmen kept their bolts aimed at the prisoners, while Abda and Timothy tended to the wounded on both sides. Nathanos oversaw the binding of the Sturgians, their expressions a mix of relief and satisfaction. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, I surveyed the scene. The Sturgians were defeated, and their threat was neutralized. We lost a couple of our good men, the recruits, though shaken, stood taller, their confidence bolstered by the victory. The Palatine Guards, ever professional, maintained their discipline, their armour now scuffed but unbroken. ¡°We did it,¡± Sora said quietly, riding up beside me. ¡°But this is only the beginning.¡± I nodded, ¡°Yes. But for now, we¡¯ve secured the south. Let¡¯s get these captives back to Nicasor. He¡¯ll want to see the results of our work.¡± As the group began the march back to the fort, the weight of the morning¡¯s battle settled over us. We had won, but the cost of war was always high. And with the Sturgians now in chains, we knew the Northern Empire¡¯s enemies would not soon forget this day.