The sun rose slowly over Ridgebrook, pale and hesitant, as if even dawn feared what the night had brought. Fog clung to the ground, weaving through trenches and barricades. The air carried a faint metallic taste.
Word of Vlad's nighttime "message" spread fast.
Some villagers whispered about it.
Some cried.
Some prayed.
And some looked at Vlad with open terror.
But everyone understood one thing:
Baron Vantor was coming.
And he would not stop this time.
Mercenary riders moved through the village, reinforcing weak sections of the gate and checking the outer defenses. Captain Orin walked beside me, her armor still streaked with dried blood from yesterday's fight.
"You bought us time," she said quietly. "But it won't be much."
"How much?" I asked.
She exhaled. "A day. Two, if we're lucky."
The weight of that answer settled deep in my chest.
"Do we know how many?" I asked.
"Not yet," Orin replied. "But if Vantor reacts the way I expect, he'll send rankers this time. Trained men. Killers."
Vlad appeared behind us without a sound.
"Let them come," he said calmly. "I welcome the worthy.
I turned on him. "We're not welcoming anyone. We're trying to survive.
He blinked once. "Survival is a matter of posture. Stand tall, and your enemies bow."
"That's not how armies work!"
"Armies break," Vlad replied. "I watched it happen last night."
Orin rubbed her temples. "That's exactly what worries me."
The Summoner's Ledger pulsed in my vision.
[VILLAGE CONDITION: STRESSED BUT FUNCTIONAL]
[READINESS: 42%]
[DAYS UNTIL NEXT SUMMON: 17]
[WARNING: HOSTILE FORCE GATHERING — LIKELY MASS MARCH]
Seventeen days.
We didn't have seventeen days.
Lira approached with a basket of herbs, her hands raw from healing. Her hair was tied back in a messy knot.
"You're frowning again," she said gently. "Is there danger?"
"Yes."
She didn't ask how I knew. She simply squeezed my arm. "Then we prepare until we are ready."
Her touch steadied me more than she knew.
Training
Vlad gathered the young men and the mercenary riders into a rough formation. His instructions were sharp, precise, and merciless.
"No wasted motion," he said, demonstrating a spear thrust. "The moment you hesitate, you lose."
One villager raised his spear nervously. "Master Vlad, what if—"
A stone struck his forehead.
The villager froze, stunned, spear slipping from his hands.
"That," Vlad said calmly, "is the cost of hesitation."
Someone whispered, "Does he ever blink?"
"No," Lira murmured. "He doesn't.
I sighed. "Welcome to my life."
"Again," Vlad ordered.
"Again."
"Again."
Sweat soaked clothes. Legs shook. Some collapsed.
No one complained.
Fear was a better teacher than comfort.
Fortifying Ridgebrook
Under Borrik's direction, the village changed rapidly.
Walls thickened.
Stakes angled outward.
Crossbeams reinforced weak points.
A lifting mechanism was added to the gate.
Children carried stones for slings.
Women prepared barrels of boiling water.
Older men dug narrow escape tunnels beneath larger homes.
Ridgebrook was no longer just a village.
It was becoming a fortress built on desperation.
Strategy Meeting
Inside the longhouse, Orin spread her map across the table.
"They'll come from the east," she said. "At least fifty soldiers. Mounted and on foot."
"Fifty…" Borrik muttered.
"That's only the first wave," Orin added.
Vlad leaned against the wall. "Let them come."
"This isn't a game," Orin snapped.
"Then stop playing it like one," Vlad replied.
I stepped between them. "Enough. We need structure, not arguments."
Orin took a breath. "Fine. What's the plan?"
I didn't have one.
But I couldn't show that.
"Delay," I said. "Force them into choke points. Make them doubt every step."
Vlad nodded. "Confusion is your sharpest weapon."
"And morale matters," Lira added quietly. "If they hesitate, we gain time."
Orin crossed her arms. "And their Rank 3 warriors?"
Silence fell.
Vlad's expression hardened. "Rank 3 is different."
"And we don't have any rankers," Borrik said grimly.
"Then we avoid them," I said. "We fight where they aren't."
Orin studied me. "Risky. But clever."
Lira watched me closely. "You're changing."
I didn't know if that was good or bad.
Evening
The sky burned orange as the sun dipped behind the trees. Ridgebrook moved with quiet urgency—training, reinforcing, praying.
The air felt heavy.
Like the world was holding its breath.
I stood near the barricade, staring into the forest.
Vlad joined me.
"You are afraid," he said.
"Yes."
"Good," he replied. "Fear sharpens the blade."
I looked at him. "Do you enjoy this? The killing?"
"No," he said. Then, after a pause, "But I enjoy being good at it."
That didn't help.
He placed a steady hand on my shoulder. "You lead well. They follow you because you choose survival."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Yes."
He walked away.
Lira came to stand beside me. "For a monster," she said softly, "he's loyal."
"That's what scares me," I admitted.
She nudged my shoulder. "You're doing everything you can."
I stared into the trees. "We'll survive."
We had to.
Then a horn sounded.
One long note.
Then another.
Orin went pale. "That's not scouting."
Vlad smiled.
"That," he said, "is an army."