The morning after Garron Haldis' defeat crept into Ridgebrook like a wounded animal—slow, cautious, uncertain. No one claimed victory aloud. People whispered it, touched it, but never held it tightly. Victory felt fragile. Temporary. Something that might shatter if spoken too loudly.
Smoke drifted from cookfires. Blood stains darkened the dirt. Tools clanged against wood where villagers repaired barricades. It all felt like an entire village trying to convince itself it was still alive.
Vlad sat against the granary wall, eyes half-lidded, posture heavy. Rank 2 had carved itself into him like a brand—granting power but demanding a price. His breath came uneven. Every movement looked like it hurt. Yet his gaze remained alert, sharp even through exhaustion.
Orin stood nearby with her left arm in a sling. The bandage underneath was stained dark, though she pretended it didn't hurt.
"You should be lying down," she muttered at Vlad.
He didn't even look at her. "I should be dead. Since I'm not, sitting is fine."
"You're shaking like a goat giving birth," Orin snapped.
Vlad smirked weakly. "Then let me shake."
I almost laughed. Almost. But all of us were stretched thin. Humor came out jagged these days.
Lira approached with a bowl of thin broth and held it out to me. When I took it, her fingers brushed mine—gentle, warm, lingering long enough that heat ran up my arm.
"You should eat," she whispered. "You didn't rest at all."
"I'm the chief," I said. "I'm not supposed to rest."
"That's stupid," she said softly. "Even chiefs fall over if they don't sleep."
Her eyes shimmered with exhaustion and fear. And something else—something softer. She stepped closer, close enough that her hair brushed against my shoulder.
I sipped the broth to hide the tightness in my chest.
The Ledger pulsed silently in my mind:
[VLAD: RANK 2 — FATIGUE: SEVERE]
[ENEMY MORALE: DISRUPTED]
[PROBABILITY OF RETALIATION: VERY HIGH]
[DAYS UNTIL NEXT SUMMON: 7]
My heart sank reading the last part. Seven days. Too long.
Lira saw my expression. "You're thinking too hard again."
"I don't know how to stop," I said.
She leaned her forehead gently against my arm. "Then let someone else carry your fear for a bit."
It stunned me how much I wanted to let her.
The village worked like ants rebuilding a crushed mound. Men patched barricades. Women boiled water and scrubbed blood from wood. Children gathered stones for reinforcing the gate. Everyone wanted to help. Everyone wanted distraction.
Orin limped through the square yelling orders:
"Move that board—no, not that way!"
"Stop crying, it's just a cut!"
"Who put this here?! Do you want the wall to fall on your mother!?"
Despite her sling and pale face, she refused to rest.
I joined her as she inspected a repair. "Thanks for saving me last night.
She snorted. "I didn't save you. I kicked a bucket at a guy so he wouldn't slice your neck open."
"That's still saving me."
Orin looked away, jaw clenched. "Don't die, Liam. I'm not burying a chief who can't dodge."
It was the closest she ever got to showing affection.
Before noon, the scouts returned. Dust-covered. Shaken.
"Vantor's forces are gathering," one reported. "More men. More beasts. They're angry. Preparing something big."
The village fell silent.
"How long?" I asked.
"A day. Maybe two. They'll wait until Garron stands again."
My stomach tightened. Garron was dangerous even wounded. Once recovered, he'd be worse.
I went to the training yard alone and practiced breathing forms. My hands shook as I raised the spear. Every stance felt off. Every motion felt like something heavy inside me was trying to shift.
I inhaled slowly. Exhaled slower.
For a heartbeat—
just one—
the world sharpened.
My vision cleared.
My weight centered.
Heat traveled up my spine.
Qi.
Real Qi.
A spark of awakening.
Then—
"YOU'RE HOLDING THE SPEAR TOO HIGH!"
Orin's voice shattered the moment.
"For fuck's sake!" I shouted.
Orin blinked. "What? You look stupid when you do that pose."
"I was concentrating!"
"Well, concentrate better," she said. "You look like you're constipated."
I dropped the spear. "I hate you."
"No you don't," she said. "You'd miss me if I died."
I didn't argue. I couldn't.
By late afternoon, children played quietly near the longhouse, occasionally glancing at me as if I could protect them by existing. Lira appeared again, bringing water and tending to villagers too hurt or too scared to move.
Every few minutes, her eyes returned to me—checking, guarding, worrying.
The wind shifted. The drums in the forest resumed—slow, steady, and distant. Not threatening yet. Just reminding us the enemy was out there.
Waiting.
Thinking.
Bleeding.
Vlad listened with half-lidded eyes, leaning against the wall.
"They wait for their captain," he murmured. "He will not stay down long."
"How long until he returns?" I asked.
"Tonight," Vlad said. "Or tomorrow."
The words hit me like a stone.
Lira approached, voice trembling slightly. "Liam… please don't go outside the walls tonight. Promise me."
She grabbed my sleeve lightly, as if afraid I might vanish if she held any tighter.
I placed my hand over hers. "I'm staying right here."
Her shoulders loosened with relief.
Night fell slowly, settling over Ridgebrook like a heavy blanket soaked in fear. I sat on the longhouse steps, breathing cold air, trying again to find the rhythm Vlad described.
Slow in.
Slow out.
A quiet pulse throbbed inside my chest—my Qi stirring again. Weak. But present.
The Ledger flickered:
[LIAM: QI ENGAGEMENT RISING]
[SUCCESS CHANCE OF RANK 1 AWAKENING: IMPROVING]
I closed my eyes.
I didn't feel strong.
I didn't feel brave.
I felt terrified.
But for the first time, the fear wasn't paralyzing.
Someone sat beside me—soft steps, warm presence. Lira. Without asking, she rested her head on my shoulder and slipped her hand into mine.
I didn't pull away.
Her warmth steadied my breath.
Her presence sharpened my focus.
Her heartbeat, faint and fast, echoed inside me.
The Qi stirred again.
Not enough.
But close.
Very close.
I squeezed her hand gently, and for the first time since the siege began…
I felt like I might actually survive long enough to protect them.