Baron Aldric Vantor walked toward Ridgebrook's barricade with slow, crushing confidence. Behind him, his army stood in perfect formation—a wedge of steel, discipline, and numbers, waiting for a single command to fall upon the village.
Vlad stood beside me, silent as stone.
Orin tensed in her saddle.
Lira looked pale, but her spine stayed straight.
Vantor stopped a few steps from the barricade and raised his voice.
"Chief Liam Richard."
I stepped forward. "That's me. The bastard you came to threaten. What's up, goat face?"
Shock rippled through the Warguard line.
One soldier hissed, "Did he just call the baron a goat?"
Another whispered, "He said his FACE looks like one!"
Vantor's eyebrow twitched.
"You are bold," he said coldly. "Foolishly so."
"Bold? Foolish?" I scoffed. "Nah. I just think you should fuck off."
Every soldier stiffened.
There was no confusion this time—only outrage.
Villagers behind me sucked in sharp breaths.
Lira slapped her own forehead.
Orin stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
One of Vantor's captains shouted, "Watch your mouth, peasant swine!"
"Fuck your mother," I replied instantly.
The Warguard exploded.
"INSOLENCE!"
"KILL HIM!"
"NO ONE SPEAKS TO THE BARON LIKE THAT!"
Vlad chuckled quietly, clearly entertained.
Vantor raised a hand.
The shouting died at once, though the chill in his eyes deepened.
"You insult me openly," Vantor said slowly, "in front of my men."
"Yeah," I said. "Wanted to make sure they heard me call you a shit-stuffed bootlicker."
Gasps spread again.
One soldier muttered, "He's mad…"
Another whispered, "Or suicidal…"
A third breathed, "What kind of chief curses like that?"
Vantor inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring.
"Your tongue is vulgar."
"My tongue?" I snorted. "Buddy, I haven't even started. You want vulgar? Try looking in a mirror."
Even Vlad coughed softly—clearly holding back laughter.
Vantor visibly forced himself to regain control.
"Enough," he said. "I will offer you a single chance. Surrender the pale executioner."
He pointed at Vlad.
"And your village may yet live."
"No," I said instantly. "Try again."
Vantor's gaze hardened. "Refuse, and Ridgebrook dies."
"Then send someone who doesn't cry when his men run away screaming," I shot back. "Maybe then we can talk.
"LIAM!" Lira gasped.
Orin whispered, horrified, "By the ancestors… you're provoking a baron."
The Warguard snarled like wolves being baited.
Vantor leaned forward slightly. "You believe your words have power?"
"I believe you suck at negotiations."
Another wave of outrage surged through his army.
Vlad murmured beside me, pleased, "Beautiful. You are cutting him without a blade."
"ENOUGH," Vantor snapped.
His voice cracked like a whip.
"My patience with your filthy mouth is ending. Your insults are childish. Pointless."
"Oh, they're not pointless," I replied. "They show everyone here that you can't handle a few bad words without throwing a tantrum."
A few mercenary riders snorted.
One villager whispered, "He's… not wrong."
Vantor's posture stiffened with pure fury. His authority—his pride—was being publicly shredded.
He turned sharply to his army. "Prepare for encirclement."
Then he looked back at me.
"You have bought yourself hours, not victory."
He mounted his horse.
"You will die screaming, Chief Richard," he said coldly. "Your mouth will be the first thing I tear apart."
"Get in line," I replied.
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then turned away.
Vantor rode off, his forces spreading outward like a tightening ring of wolves around Ridgebrook.
The siege had begun.
Lira exhaled shakily. "Liam… you just insulted a baron in ways no one in this world would even dare think."
"I know."
Orin shook her head slowly. "That was either the bravest or stupidest thing I've ever seen."
Vlad placed a hand on my shoulder, smiling faintly. "I approve. Your tongue is sharper than any spear."
The Summoner's Ledger pulsed in my vision:
[HOSTILE ENCIRCLEMENT ESTABLISHED]
[SIEGE MODE ACTIVATED]
[DAYS UNTIL NEXT SUMMON: 16]
I stared at the ring of torches surrounding Ridgebrook.
"All right," I whispered. "Let's survive this shit."