The fortress did not sleep. Even after the fires were doused, its stone bones groaned beneath the burden of victory. The Spears drilled by torchlight, smiths hammered dents from armor, and villagers carried bundles of rice straw for bedding in ruined halls.
But shadows always moved where light was brightest.
That night, a lantern guttered in the council chamber. Masanori leaned over a spread of maps, tracing possible routes eastward. Lady Aiko stood nearby, her hands folded into her sleeves. Eugene listened, silent, watching both the parchment and the people.
For all his calm, his system pulsed faint warnings in the back of his mind.
[System Alert]:Surveillance: compromised.Suspicious movement recorded in southern gate barracks.Risk of infiltration: 62%.Recommendation: heightened vigilance.
Eugene's eyes narrowed. The Wolf had failed to breach the fortress with armies. So now he tried another weapon: knives in the dark.
A Whispered Plot
In a half-collapsed barn at the fortress's edge, three figures knelt in secret. They wore Crescent garb, but their eyes darted like foxes.
"The Wolf's gold spends easily," one muttered. "We lost brothers in that slaughter. Why should we die for a boy lord who plays at kingdom-building?"
Another spat. "He inspires fools, yes—but inspiration doesn't fill bellies. Ishida promises land, women, coin. All we must do is open the gates when his banners return."
The third man hesitated. "And if he learns of this?"
The first smirked. "Then we say nothing. We bow, we cheer, and when the time comes—we strike."
Their hands clasped, sealing betrayal in silence.
But above them, unseen, a small metal sphere hovered briefly in the rafters, its single red lens flickering.
[Recon drone feed logged.]
Eugene, back in his quarters, watched their faces through the system's projection. He felt no triumph. Only a tightening coil of anger.
The Test of Loyalty
By dawn, he summoned the Spears to the courtyard once again. This time, his voice carried an edge like drawn steel.
"Victory tempts more than our allies. It tempts traitors. Wolves do not always come in banners. Sometimes they wear the faces of brothers."
A ripple of unease spread through the ranks. Eugene's gaze was steady as he continued:
"I will not ask blind loyalty. But I demand truth. If you believe another lord will feed you better, step forward now. If you think Ishida's gold shines brighter than our Crescent, speak."
Silence. Spears shifted uncomfortably, but none moved.
Eugene's hand flicked subtly. Guards dragged three men from the crowd—the very traitors from the barn. Gasps erupted.
Lady Aiko's eyes widened. "You knew?"
"I know," Eugene said simply.
The three struggled, shouting denials, curses, anything to mask their fear. Eugene let the noise wash over him, then raised his hand.
"These men chose gold over their comrades. Chose Ishida's leash over freedom. And they would have slit your throats in your sleep."
The Spears roared in fury. Some shouted for execution, others for torture.
Eugene's gaze was cold. "A kingdom is built on law. And law must be sharp."
With a swift motion, he drew his blade. One strike, clean, merciless. The courtyard fell silent as the traitors' heads thudded against the stones.
Blood pooled at his feet, steaming in the cold air.
"Let this be the fate of all who betray," Eugene said. "The Crescent is not gold. It is iron. And iron does not break."
The Spears slammed their weapons against the ground, voices rising in thunderous approval. Yet Lady Aiko, watching, masked unease behind her serene face. She saw what they did not: the young lord was hardening, step by step, into something far more dangerous.
Lady Aiko's Dilemma
Later, as the courtyard was cleaned, Aiko approached Eugene privately.
"You are ruthless," she said quietly. "Too ruthless, perhaps."
Eugene met her gaze without flinching. "Would you rather I be merciful and let rot spread through the ranks? Betrayal unpunished invites more betrayal."
She frowned. "Perhaps. But men follow not only out of fear, but out of respect. Today they cheered. Tomorrow they may wonder if their own doubts will earn them the same blade."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Eugene sighed. "Aiko… in my world, traitors cost millions of lives. I won't let whispers undo what we've built."
Her eyes softened at the rare glimpse of weariness in him. But she bowed slightly, choosing not to press further. For now.
The Wolf's Shadow
Far to the north, Ishida sat in his command tent. His wound had healed, though a scar twisted across his jaw. His fists clenched as his spy delivered the news:
"The boy executed the traitors. Publicly. The Spears cheered him."
Ishida's teeth ground together. "So he is no naive child. He sharpens himself with each challenge. Hmph. Good. Then when I crush him, the world will know it was no accident."
The Wolf turned to his retainers. "Double the spies. Poison their wells, spread rumors, bribe merchants. If the blade will not break, then rust it from within."
His men bowed. And so, even in defeat, the Wolf stalked his prey.
Night of Knives
That same evening, another attempt came.
A group of assassins slipped into the fortress disguised as traveling monks, their faces shadowed by straw hats. They carried prayer beads—but inside their sleeves were knives.
The Spears at the gate were half-asleep from exhaustion, their watch sloppy. The assassins nearly reached the inner keep before Eugene's system pinged.
[Threat proximity detected: 20 meters. Multiple heat signatures concealed.]
He moved instantly.
The first assassin lunged, blade flashing. Eugene sidestepped, grabbed the man's wrist, and snapped it like a twig. The second came from behind—Eugene spun, drawing his blade in a silver arc. The man crumpled.
The third shouted and leapt, but Hiroshi barreled from the side, smashing him into the wall with a roar.
Torches flared as Spears poured in, cutting down the remaining assassins before they reached the stairs.
When it was done, seven corpses lay in pools of blood. The fortress reeked of iron again.
Hiroshi spat. "Monks, my ass. Wolves in robes."
Eugene wiped his blade calmly. But inside, his mind burned. Each attempt was bolder than the last. Ishida would not relent. And his fortress was far from impregnable.
Planting New Roots
The next morning, Eugene gathered his closest retainers.
"We cannot merely defend. Ishida's shadow will reach us again and again. If we stand still, we die. So we march—not only to feed our people, but to plant fear in our enemies."
Masanori nodded grimly. "You mean to strike Hojo?"
"Not yet," Eugene said. "First we secure the border villages—quietly. We take food, but we also leave gifts. Protection. Order. Let the peasants see Crescent banners not as raiders, but as shields. Ishida spreads poison—we must spread loyalty."
Lady Aiko studied him for a long moment. "You plan not just for war. You plan for rule."
Eugene's lips curved faintly. "A kingdom is not built with blades alone. It is built with hearts."
Shadows Remain
That night, as the fortress settled, Eugene stood alone on the ramparts. His cloak whipped in the wind.
The valley stretched out before him, scarred yet alive. Fires burned in the villages, smoke curling to the sky. Somewhere in those flames were whispers still loyal to Ishida. Somewhere, another traitor plotted.
But Eugene's eyes were sharp. He had been a soldier once, a strategist, a survivor in another world. Betrayal was not new to him. He would face it here as well.
[System update]:Loyalty index: stabilizing.External threats: persistent.Recommendation: continue strategic expansion.
Eugene's hand gripped the hilt of his blade.
"The Wolf sends shadows," he murmured. "Then I will answer with light. Let every village, every man, every woman know—the Crescent rises, and it does not break."
Far below, the river glimmered in the moonlight, carrying the blood of traitors out to sea.
The shadows had tested him. They would test him again. But each trial only forged him harder.
The boy was gone. The lord remained.
And in time, a king would be born.