The morning mist clung to Ridgebrook like a damp cloak as Vlad watched the militia assemble for drills. The recruits stood in a crooked line, clutching spears with the nervous grip of people who only recently realized the world wanted them dead.
Vlad dragged the flat of his blade across his palm, testing its edge. "Your stances are still weak," he announced. "If you meet an enemy like this, you will die so quickly you won't even have time to scream."
One villager raised a hand timidly. "W-We're trying our best—"
"Your best?" Vlad sneered. "Your best got half of you knocked on your asses yesterday."
Another villager whispered, "Is this really training?"
Vlad's ears twitched. "If you speak again without permission, I'll impale—"
A quiet voice behind him cut him off. "No, you won't."
Vlad turned to see Sun Tzu standing there, hands clasped behind his back, face expressionless.
"You cannot threaten impalement as motivation," Sun Tzu continued calmly.
"It works," Vlad insisted.
"It traumatizes them."
Vlad shrugged. "Same thing."
Sun Tzu sighed as if he carried the burden of the entire village's sanity. "Continue your… methods. I will correct the psychological damage afterward."
"That seems fair," Vlad said sincerely.
The militia watched, unsure if they should laugh or cry.
Vlad shouted, "Formation!"
The line snapped together—crooked, but unified. Better than before. He had to admit, some of them were shaping into fighters. Others… well, someone had to die first in a war.
He stalked down the line, adjusting elbows, straightening backs, and occasionally striking someone lightly on the thigh to correct posture. Light for him—painful for them.
"Thrust!" he commanded.
Spears shot out in a ragged wave.
Sun Tzu rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Your timings are inconsistent. The front half thrusts too quickly."
"Quick is good," Vlad replied.
"Not when your own formation stabs itself."
"That only happened once."
"Once was enough."
Vlad smirked. "You worry too much."
"And you worry too little."
Their contrast amused Liam, who watched from the edge of the field. But soon Sun Tzu drifted away, leaving Vlad to his brutal rhythm of drill and insult.
The forest murmured beyond the wall. Vlad's attention flicked toward it often. Something was wrong with the silence. Too controlled. Too patient. He'd seen this before—enemy scouts mapping the land before a strike.
During a break, he slipped away from the field, moving toward the northern perimeter like a shadow. The air tasted of damp earth and something metallic.
He found it near the old hunting path.
A man tied to a tree.
Barely alive.
Legs broken in multiple places.
Arms twisted unnaturally.
Chest carved with crude symbols.
Vlad crouched, examining the wounds with morbid fascination. "Interesting… they enjoy cruelty almost as much as I do."
The man's eyes fluttered open. "H…help… he said… Ridgebrook must kneel…"
Then he slumped forward, dead.
Vlad didn't react. "A shame. I had questions."
He rose, wiping his hand on his cloak. The attack was coming. These wounds weren't just threats—they were declarations.
He almost smiled. "Finally. Something worthy of my time."
—
Sun Tzu stood atop the watchtower, observing Ridgebrook slowly breathe to life. Twelve days wasn't enough for perfection, but it was enough to see patterns forming.
Children carried wood with increasing organization. Refugees harvested herbs in tidy rows. Lira coordinated supplies with practiced efficiency. Soldiers drilled in consistent cycles.
Weaknesses remained:
the south gate too thin
the trenches too shallow
the militia easily winded
the watch rotation still undisciplined
But where there were weaknesses, there were also solutions.
His eyes drifted to Liam.
The young chief moved between groups, listening, correcting, helping. He bore the role now without flinching. His decisions grew sharper, more confident. He had even begun speaking like a man expecting war.
Liam Richards was no general. Not yet.
But with guidance… Sun Tzu saw potential.
However, there was also danger.
He caught Lira adjusting Liam's cloak, brushing against him with clear affection. Orin watched from afar, jealousy flaring in her tightened jaw and stiff posture.
Sun Tzu sighed softly. "A commander's heart is useful only when controlled. Emotion becomes weakness if allowed to spread."
He would need to watch Liam more closely.
Later that afternoon, Sun Tzu inspected the forest edge. He knelt beside a faint impression in the soil—boot prints, deliberately masked by brush. He brushed aside leaves, revealing a mark carved into the dirt.
P
A reconnaissance sign.
Used by trained soldiers.
Not bandits.
Not villagers.
Not amateurs.
"Rathmore," he murmured. "He is mapping our approach routes."
He rose just as Vlad appeared from the trees, carrying the corpse of the tortured man slung over one shoulder.
"We need to talk," Vlad said.
"We do," Sun Tzu replied.
They walked together, an odd pair—strategist and monster.
Sun Tzu spoke first. "Rathmore will not send scouts again. He has enough information."
Vlad nodded. "He will attack. Soon."
"Agreed."
Vlad dropped the corpse at the base of the watchtower. Guards recoiled.
Sun Tzu examined it, tracing the symbols carved into the flesh. "This was not meant to intimidate. It is meant to confirm victory."
"Premature," Vlad said with a grin.
Sun Tzu nodded. "Indeed. Men who assume victory before the battle often die quickly."
"Then we should help them die."
Sun Tzu actually chuckled—quiet but real. "Your enthusiasm for slaughter remains… consistent."
"It is a talent."
"It is a problem."
Vlad shrugged. "Everything is a problem to you."
"And nothing is a problem to you," Sun Tzu countered.
Vlad considered this. "Balance, then."
Sun Tzu looked at him sideways. "You propose we balance each other?"
"Yes," Vlad said simply.
Sun Tzu exhaled. "I fear the balance."
They continued walking.
"What do you think of our chief?" Vlad asked suddenly.
Sun Tzu answered without hesitation. "He is learning."
Vlad smirked. "He should kill more."
Sun Tzu's eyebrow twitched. "He should think more."
"Thinking is overrated."
"Violence is inefficient."
They paused.
Vlad: "We will balance him."
Sun Tzu: "I am increasingly concerned."
At sunset, Liam approached them, unaware of the conversation they had just shared.
"You two look like you're plotting something," he said.
"We are preparing," Sun Tzu corrected.
"We are hungry," Vlad said.
Liam blinked. "…Hungry for what?"
Vlad's grin widened. "A good enemy."
Sun Tzu pointed toward the forest. "You will have one soon enough."
A distant horn echoed through the trees—long, low, unmistakably militaristic.
Liam froze.
Orin grabbed her spear.
Lira looked out from the longhouse, eyes widening.
Vlad inhaled sharply, like a wolf scenting blood.
Sun Tzu calmly folded his hands behind his back.
"It begins," Sun Tzu said.
"Finally," Vlad whispered.
The horn sounded again—closer.
Rathmore was coming
[NEXT SUMMON: 4 DAYS]