Chapter 35: Outpost Under Attack!
Year 0003, Month XI-XII: The Imperium
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Day 92-95: Recruitment Efforts and A Warrior's Spirit
The city of Gremory had settled into its familiar rhythm, and August and his crew continued their preparations as they had for weeks. The people who came here before and had ventured out to spread word of their offer had returned several days prior, bringing with them not only their own family members but also acquaintances who had been drawn by the promise of a new life far from the troubles that plagued their homeland.
August and Andy had meticulously tested each newcomer's abilities, ensuring they possessed the skills necessary to help rebuild the village of Maya. The assessment process had been thorough—they needed to know exactly what talents they were working with. In total, fifteen families had gathered, representing a diverse array of essential skills that would prove invaluable in their reconstruction efforts and the necessary amount of people needed in having a functioning village.
Seven families had previously worked as farmers, their hands weathered from years of tending crops and livestock. Their knowledge of soil cultivation, crop rotation, and animal husbandry would be crucial for establishing sustainable food production. Three families specialized in hunting, their keen eyes and steady hands promising fresh game and protection from wild beasts that might threaten their new settlement. Another three families were builders, their expertise in construction and craftsmanship evident in the way they examined the structural integrity of buildings and discussed materials with professional insight.
One family had been bakers in their former village, their knowledge of grain processing and bread-making representing not just sustenance but the heart of community life. Finally, there was a family who had previously been tasked with security in their village—their bearing and cautious vigilance marking them as experienced guardians who understood the weight of protecting others.
Each family consisted of ten to twelve members, with at least six adults per family and the remainder being their children, though some of the older children had already reached working age and could be considered productive adults. The demographics broke down precisely: five families had twelve members each, another five had eleven, and the remaining five had ten members. This brought their total count to one hundred sixty-five people—ninety adults, all of whom were married couples, and seventy-five children of various ages with at least 40% of them being young-adults meaning they've reached the age of 13 to 19.
As August and Andy conducted their interviews, a troubling pattern emerged. These families had been surviving through whatever odd jobs and contractual work they could find, scraping by day to day in an unfamiliar city. Most had lost their fortunes during their escape from whatever troubles had driven them here, leaving them with little more than the clothes on their backs and the skills in their hands. While Gremory wasn't an excessively expensive city, the cost of living became brutal when one had no money to begin with, and these families were living proof of that harsh reality.
The immediate problem was clear: they couldn't house all these people at the Fernando estate, and it would have been presumptuous and rude to ask the Fernandos to accommodate such a large group. August and Andy would need to find alternative arrangements while ensuring these families could survive until they could be transported to Maya.
The physical condition of the newcomers was concerning. Most showed signs of malnutrition, their clothes were worn and patched, and many were clearly struggling with the winter cold. August immediately accessed his system to begin producing clothing for these people, though it would take time to create enough for everyone. For now, he and Andy distributed some of their own spare clothes, knowing that any covering was better than none in this harsh weather.
More importantly, they needed to address the immediate financial crisis. August decided to give each family ten local gold coins—a substantial amount considering that a good, hearty meal in the city cost only twenty local copper coins per person. With three meals a day, a family of twelve could make that amount last for approximately one hundred four days, though families with fewer members would stretch it even further. If they rationed carefully and supplemented with the occasional odd job, they could potentially extend their resources for three to five months.
Andy, ever practical, issued a stern warning along with the money: if he discovered that any of the funds had been gambled away, he would abandon that family to their fate and demand repayment of double the amount. While none of the families seemed inclined toward such behavior, it was better to establish clear expectations from the beginning.
Over the following days, August made his rounds throughout the city, locating each family and personally delivering winter clothing to help them survive the cold. The moment each family member received their new garments, their faces lit up with gratitude and relief. Many openly wept, overwhelmed by this unexpected kindness from strangers. Each family vowed to themselves that they would do everything in their power to help August and Andy's village thrive once again, especially after learning about Maya's current state of emergency, the lack of human resource to fill the roles of a village life and the challenges that lay ahead.
After distributing aid to fourteen families, August asked one particular family to remain behind—the family that had handled security in their previous village. He hired them immediately, recognizing that their skills would be invaluable in the coming months. This family of twelve consisted of six adults and six children who were approaching adulthood, making them ideal candidates for training and integration into their security forces.
To properly assess their capabilities, August integrated them into the morning training routine that he conducted with his existing crew. He paid them in advance—three local gold coins per month for each adult and one local gold coin for each of the children, since they weren't technically adults yet. The total amount for three months of advanced paid wages expense came to fifty-four gold coins for the adults and eighteen for the children, but August considered it a worthwhile investment.
Their combat skills were, as expected, subpar due to their current condition. August arranged for Milo to conduct one-on-one assessments with each family member to establish their baseline abilities. The results were predictable—malnutrition had left them lacking the stamina and muscle mass necessary for effective combat. They were easily defeated in these initial tests, but August wasn't discouraged. He knew that proper nutrition, particularly a diet rich in meat and protein, would help them regain their lost strength and build the muscle they needed.
The men obviously possessed more combat experience than the women and children, but even their skills didn't amount to anything significant yet. At best, most of them were Category I - Common level, while only the three family patriarchs showed potential as low-end Category II - Advanced humans who might eventually be able to manipulate mana effectively.
August was confident he could unlock their potential over the coming months, but they would need to be prepared for the possibility of war reaching their doorstep. He had begun to worry about the balance of their forces—they currently had more support personnel than combat-ready fighters. This warrior family would help address that imbalance, but before he could fully trust them with critical responsibilities, they would need to undergo rigorous training.
His thoughts must have been broadcasting his intentions, because Andy and the rest of his crew, including Mee-rka, suddenly felt a wave of dread wash over them. They all knew how terrifying August could be when it came to training, even at just twelve years old. His methods were brutal but undeniably effective, producing remarkable results in those who survived his regimen. They could only offer their sympathy and well-wishes to the newcomers who had no idea what they were about to endure.
By the end of these three days, they had accomplished several significant goals and had invested two hundred twelve local gold coins in their newly hired personnel—an expense that August considered both necessary and strategic.
**[BANKING SYSTEM]**
**Imperial Currency:**
- 34 Imperial Orichalcum Coins
- 1,573 Imperial Gold Coins
- 603 Imperial Silver Coins
- 310 Imperial Copper Coins
**Local Currency:**
- 6,254 Local Gold Coins (-212)
- 557 Local Silver Coins
- 283 Local Copper Coins
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Day 96: Skirmish at a Forward Outpost of Ogind
The morning air was bitter cold as twelve men huddled around a carefully maintained fire pit deep within their concealed underground shelter. The structure had been their home for weeks now—a man-made bunker constructed from timber frames and locally sourced materials, designed to blend seamlessly with the winter landscape. Shaped like a wooden pillbox, it was covered with layers of mud, straw, and the very dirt they had excavated during construction, creating effective insulation against the harsh winter cold.
The engineers who had designed these positions had been thorough in their planning. Ventilation holes allowed fresh air to circulate while providing escape routes for smoke from their fire pit, preventing the deadly buildup of carbon monoxide that could suffocate them in their sleep. The entrance was carefully camouflaged, and a strategically placed observation slit offered a commanding view of the snow-laden terrain below. Their primary mission was to serve as forward scouts and sentries, maintaining constant vigilance for any signs of enemy movement that might threaten the kingdom's borders.
This particular sector contained twenty such structures, each positioned roughly two hundred meters apart and connected by a network of discrete trenches that allowed for movement and communication between positions. The entire defensive line had been established on elevated ground that provided excellent visibility of the approaches below, while the accumulated snow helped conceal their positions from casual observation. To an enemy scout, the landscape appeared empty and undisturbed—exactly as intended.
The garrison assigned to this sector consisted of two hundred fifty soldiers, representing a full-strength company with impressive credentials. Approximately eighty-five percent were Category II - Advanced soldiers, battle-tested veterans with years of experience. Fifteen percent had achieved Category III - Expert status, ranging from low to middle-tier capabilities, while their commander had attained the high end of the Expert category, making him one of the most formidable warriors in the region.
The duty rotation had been carefully organized to maintain constant vigilance without exhausting the men. Each soldier was assigned four hours of lookout duty per day, creating a continuous forty-eight-hour cycle that ensured fresh eyes were always watching the approaches. It was monotonous work, but absolutely critical to the kingdom's defense.
Today had begun like any other, with soldiers taking their assigned shifts and maintaining their equipment. However, several days earlier, a magical encrypted message from the village command post of Kirka had arrived with disturbing news. Their most forward reconnaissance units had encountered significant problems a week ago, and intelligence suggested that company-sized enemy forces might already be attempting to infiltrate their defensive networks. The message had ordered all units to maintain extra vigilance and prepare for potential contact.
As the first light of dawn broke across the frozen landscape, their worst fears materialized before their eyes. Soldiers wearing the colors of Arwen were advancing across the snow-covered terrain, spread out in tactical formation as they approached the defensive line. The enemy had clearly planned this assault carefully, but they had no idea they were walking into a meticulously prepared ambush.
The Kingdom of Ogind's soldiers had the crucial advantage of surprise, their positions perfectly concealed within the natural terrain. Messengers immediately sprinted through the connecting trenches to alert the company commander, who wasted no time in issuing orders for all positions to prepare for combat. Years of training and preparation had led to this moment.
Within minutes, as the enemy forces moved into effective killing range, bowstrings were drawn back and arrows knocked with practiced precision. The commander's orders were clear: hold fire until the enemy reached optimal range, then unleash coordinated volleys that would maximize casualties and break their formation. If executed properly, this ambush could stop the full battalion of one thousand Arwen soldiers in their tracks.
The commander had already dispatched runners to request additional support from similar company-sized units positioned five kilometers to their rear. However, the heavy snow would significantly delay any reinforcements, meaning they would need to hold their ground with their current strength until help arrived.
At fifty feet, the order was given. Two hundred fifty arrows launched simultaneously from concealed positions, creating a deadly rain of steel that caught the Arwen soldiers completely off guard. The first volley claimed at least thirty lives and wounded another sixty, the enemy troops stumbling and falling as they struggled to understand what was happening. Before they could react or take cover, a second volley was already in the air, claiming another forty lives and adding fifty more to the wounded count.
The Arwen commander, finally grasping the situation, began shouting orders through the chaos: "Ambush! Spread out! Don't cluster together! We're under enemy arrow fire!"
But the confusion was already spreading through their ranks like wildfire. Mixed magical attacks began launching from the concealed positions, adding to the casualty count and creating panic among soldiers who couldn't locate their attackers. The Ogind defenders had achieved perfect camouflage, blending seamlessly with the local terrain and foliage.
As precious minutes passed, the sound of war horns began echoing across the battlefield. The Arwen soldiers were finally beginning to locate their enemies, and the clash of steel against steel would soon begin, accompanied by the explosive sounds of magical combat. The ground beneath their feet would soon be stained red with the blood of both sides.
Although the Ogind kingdom's forces were significantly outnumbered by the Arwen battalion, they had accomplished far more than physical damage—they had instilled genuine fear in their enemies, demonstrating how easily their comrades could fall to an unseen enemy. This psychological impact was already affecting the overall morale of the Arwen troops, creating doubt and hesitation where confidence should have been.
Recognizing this advantage, the defensive forces began consolidating their positions in a carefully chosen section of the battlefield. The area featured dense tree cover and uphill terrain that would force the Arwen soldiers to advance while fighting both the defending forces and the natural obstacles of snow and steep ground. It was a tactical masterpiece that would maximize the defenders' advantages while minimizing the enemy's numerical superiority.
Unfortunately for the Arwen forces, their commander was unable to rally his troops effectively as confusion reigned and contradictory orders created chaos in their ranks. Different squad leaders began making independent decisions to charge the Ogind positions, creating a disorganized assault that played directly into their enemies' hands. The experienced Ogind commander could see the trap working exactly as planned, watching with professional satisfaction as the enemy made critical tactical errors.
"Idiots! What are you doing? Retreat and fall back into formation! It's a trap!" the Arwen commander screamed, but his words were lost in the chaos of battle. His men continued their uncoordinated advance, walking directly into the carefully prepared killing ground.
The slaughter that followed was methodical and brutal. Arwen soldiers fell like wheat before the scythe, their advance broken against the disciplined defense of the Ogind forces. The clash of weapons rang through the air—sword against spear, shield against mace, axe against armor—but above it all rose the screams of dying men experiencing the terror of death for the first time in their lives.
This psychological breakdown spread through the remaining Arwen forces like a plague, morale collapsing as soldiers watched their comrades fall around them. The commander, recognizing that his force was being systematically destroyed, ordered the retreat horn to be sounded. They had lost forty percent of their battalion, with the survivors routing in panic, their courage completely shattered.
The Kingdom of Ogind had achieved a decisive victory, avenging their earlier losses to these same Arwen forces. The defending soldiers raised their voices in triumphant shouts that echoed across the battlefield, their cries of victory carrying for miles through the cold winter air.
Despite their overwhelming success, the Ogind commander made the tactical decision not to pursue the retreating enemy. They were in a defensive position and would maintain that stance, knowing that pursuing could lead them into a trap or ambush. The Ogind casualties had been remarkably light—only ten percent of their force, twenty-five soldiers, had been seriously wounded, while their enemies lay dead in the snow around them.
The wounded enemy soldiers who still clung to life were systematically finished off—a harsh but practical decision. While the defenders might have preferred to take prisoners for intelligence purposes, their limited supplies and isolated position made caring for enemy wounded impossible. However, the battlefield provided fresh supplies in the form of weapons, armor, and equipment that the fallen enemies no longer needed. The commander ordered his troops to recover everything useful and transport it to their supply stations, knowing these resources would prove invaluable in future engagements.
After two hours of intense combat, the emergency situation was officially declared over, and the commander sent messages detailing their victory to other units throughout the defensive network. However, rather than calling off the request for additional troops, he made the strategic decision to ask the nearest outpost to abandon their position and reinforce his location. This victory had proven the strategic importance of this position, and strengthening it would benefit the entire defensive line.
As the day ended in celebration of their remarkable victory, the defenders remained vigilant for possible retaliatory attacks from the Arwen forces. Meanwhile, the surviving Arwen commander was forced to return to his nearest outpost to tend to his wounded and report the devastating defeat to his superiors. This engagement was far from over—both sides knew that an even bloodier confrontation would likely occur in the coming days as the conflict continued to escalate.