Night in Ridgebrook no longer felt like night. It felt like a held breath—long, cold, and sharp enough to cut the chest. Torches burned along the half-finished wall, throwing jittering light across the newly dug trenches and sharpened stakes. Hammers rang. Shovels scraped. The village worked as if time itself was chasing them.
Liam walked the northern wall, watching villagers reinforce planks that still smelled of sap. Spears leaned in clusters. Buckets of rocks lined the parapets. Pots of heating oil simmered above fire pits, sending up thin trails of smoke. Every man, woman, and child had a task. And every few minutes, the weight of the Ledger flickered at the edge of his mind.
He finally checked it.
[NEXT SUMMON: 2 DAYS
Another line pulsed beneath it.
[WARNING: LARGE HOSTILE FORCE APPROACHING]
[RANDOM SUMMON IMPACT ON SURVIVAL: HIGH]
He shut the book fast. "Don't jinx me," he muttered.
From below, Vlad called up, "Talking to invisible forces again, Chief?"
Liam nearly stumbled. "Why are you always right behind me?"
"Good habits," Vlad said. "Also, it's fun.
He moved with unnatural ease for a man built like a statue and barked at a group of militia recruits. "Again! Form up! Your stances look like you're preparing to piss yourselves. If you die, die with dignity!"
One recruit whispered, "Does he ever sleep?"
Sun Tzu passed by without looking. "No.
Vlad shouted, "Sleep is for the weak!"
Sun Tzu sighed, "And you are living proof of that."
The recruits chuckled nervously. Vlad glared at them until they stopped.
Training continued with grim determination. Vlad blindfolded three men and told them to find him by sound alone. They failed, of course. Vlad appeared behind each one, tapping them on the back of the head.
"You're dead."
Tap. "Dead again."
Tap. "Dead, dead, dead."
Sun Tzu had to physically intervene when Vlad suggested live-blade sparring "to raise the stakes."
Meanwhile, Orin strode along the treeline, every muscle taut. She wasn't scouting tonight—Sun Tzu had forbidden it—but she couldn't stay still. She watched Liam from a distance, jaw clenched, chest tight with something she refused to name. The memory of Lira wiping blood from his cheek burned in her mind like a brand.
She didn't notice Sun Tzu until he stood beside her.
"You're unsettled," he observed.
"I'm focused."
"Incorrect."
Orin exhaled sharply. "How do you stop emotions from getting in the way?"
"You don't," Sun Tzu said. "You discipline them. You direct them. You decide their purpose."
She frowned. "And if they refuse to be controlled?"
"Then they control you." Sun Tzu stepped away. "And that leads to death."
Her hand tightened on her spear. She wasn't sure if she was angrier at Lira, at Liam, or at herself.
Lira, meanwhile, moved between the longhouse and the supply carts, preparing herbs, bandages, and makeshift splints. She paused each time Liam passed near her, as if checking he hadn't vanished in the last few seconds.
When he finally stopped to help her lift a crate, she caught his sleeve. "You're pushing yourself too hard."
"We all are."
"Yes," she whispered, "but when you collapse, everyone notices."
Her hand brushed his, lingering. She stepped closer. "I… haven't stopped thinking about what could've happened at the river."
Liam swallowed. "Lira—"
She leaned in—close enough he felt her breath.
Close enough that the moment felt inevitable.
Footsteps interrupted them.
Orin.
She froze, eyes narrowing at the closeness between them. Lira stepped back, composed but not apologetic. Liam rubbed his neck awkwardly.
"You're supposed to be helping with spear distribution," Orin said tightly.
"I finished early," Lira replied.
"Then find something else."
"Or you could stop staring at us," Lira said sweetly.
Orin bristled. Liam stepped between them. "Guys. Please. Not now.
Both women huffed and walked opposite directions.
Liam sighed. "Great. Now they'll kill me before Rathmore gets the chance."
"Unlikely," Sun Tzu said behind him. "Though not impossible.
Liam jumped again. "Can everyone stop materializing behind me?!"
Sun Tzu ignored the outburst. "We have a problem."
He led Liam to a large rock near the forest path. A carved symbol—small, careful, deliberate—was etched onto its surface.
"This is not Rathmore's mark," Sun Tzu said. "Someone else is watching us."
"A bandit group?" Liam asked.
"No." Sun Tzu crouched. "The cuts are too clean. The symbol too orderly. Whoever left this is trained."
Liam felt cold. "So… another enemy?"
"Or an ally," Sun Tzu said softly. "But either way, it complicates matters."
Before Liam could question further, the sky above them blushed faintly with the dying light. The village quieted as work shifted from frantic labor to tense rest. A few villagers approached Liam with small offerings:
A loaf of bread.
A carved wooden wolf.
A small charm for luck.
"Bring them back," a mother whispered. "Bring all our men home."
Liam accepted each gift with a lump in his throat.
As the village settled into uneasy silence, Sun Tzu called a final meeting. In the center clearing, he outlined the defense: choke point by the river, flank traps, archers on the two highest perches, oil lines ready to ignite. Vlad stood nearby, offering "improvements."
"Let me start the battle with a fire," Vlad suggested.
"No."
"We throw a corpse at them."
"No."
"What about half a corpse?"
"No, Vlad!"
Vlad shrugged. "You're no fun."
Liam tried to focus. "We follow the plan. No charging alone. No heroics."
Vlad sighed dramatically. "You ruin everything."
The meeting dissolved quickly into whispered preparations and sharpened resolve. Liam climbed the watchtower for one last look at the land beyond.
Then Orin shouted from the north wall.
"Torches! Moving!"
Liam's heart lurched.
He sprinted up the tower and froze.
In the distance—
one torch,
then five,
then dozens.
Forty?
More?
Moving in formation.
Marching steadily toward Ridgebrook.
The wind carried the faint sound of boots and metal.
Sun Tzu joined him, face unreadable. "They come."
Vlad leaned on the rail, grinning wide. "Finally."
Liam gripped the wooden ledge hard enough that splinters bit into his palm.
Tomorrow.
The war came tomorrow.
And Ridgebrook had one night left to become a fortress.