The Outskirts of the Imperial Encampment
The remnants of the squad gathered at the edge of the camp, breath pluming in the freezing morning air. The 2nd Lieutenant stood before them, her posture impeccably straight, her face a mask of military discipline.
"Is everyone present?" she asked, her voice cutting through the cold.
"We are, Lieutenant," Akira replied. She hesitated for a moment, exchanging a glance with Gron. "But, Ma'am... we have a request. If you'll hear us out."
The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow. "Speak."
"It's... incredibly awkward for us to just keep calling you '2nd Lieutenant' all the time, especially if we're going on a long recon mission together," Akira explained, rubbing the back of her neck. "Would it be alright if we used another name? Your actual name, perhaps?"
The Lieutenant's eyes narrowed slightly, sweeping over the squad. Arthur simply watched in silence, while Rina stood beside him like an iron statue.
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched the officer's lips. "It is generally considered rude to pry into a lady's name, soldiers. But... I suppose an exception can be made for this squad. You may call me Lina."
"Understood, Miss Lina," Gron nodded respectfully.
"If you're done chattering and your gear is packed, mount up," Lina ordered, her tone shifting back to sharp authority. "We ride for Klutch Village."
Due to the severe shortage of military supplies, they hadn't been allocated enough horses. They had to ride double. Arthur rode behind Rina, Akira sat behind Lina, and Legend shared a sturdy warhorse with the hulking Gron.
The journey took them away from the heavily fortified front lines and deep into a valley cradled by jagged, pine-covered mountains. As they rode, the temperature seemed to drop even further, and the air grew incredibly damp.
By the time the outline of Klutch Village came into view, they were riding through a thick, unnatural soup of white mist.
The environment was jarringly different. While the rest of the region was blanketed in crisp, dry snow, this village was suffocated by a damp, heavy fog that seemed to swallow sound and light. It felt less like a settlement and more like a graveyard.
As they trotted into the village square, a group of men emerged from the mist. At their center was an old man with a thick grey beard, leaning on a wooden staff. He wore a wide, welcoming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Welcome, welcome! Honored knights and ladies of the Empire," the old man called out, bowing deeply. "We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. I am Helvan, the Elder of Klutch Village. It is my absolute pleasure to receive you."
Lina stared down at him from her horse, her expression as cold as ice. "A pleasure to meet you, Elder. We were delayed on our journey. Show us to our quarters immediately. We need to begin our patrols and establish a perimeter."
Helvan's smile faltered for a fraction of a second before returning. "Ah, straight to business! But surely, Madam, a little rest wouldn't hurt? You must be freezing. We have prepared a modest feast to warm your bones and celebrate your arrival—"
"No," Lina cut him off sharply. "We did not come here to feast or play. We are the military, here to do a job. Show us to our quarters. Now."
Impressive, Arthur thought, watching the exchange from his saddle. Her tactical analysis is flawless. She already knows this village is planning a rebellion. Accepting their food or dropping our guard for a 'feast' would be suicide. She shut him down perfectly.
Helvan bowed again, hiding the dark flash in his eyes. "Of course, of course. Please forgive my intrusion. Your quarters are those two buildings right there."
He pointed his staff through the fog.
Arthur's eyes narrowed. The two houses Helvan pointed to were massive, two-story structures built from fine timber. They were incredibly luxurious, standing out like sore thumbs against the dilapidated, rotting huts the rest of the villagers lived in.
A gilded cage, Arthur mused. They put us in the biggest, most obvious targets in the village.
"The house on the right is for the men," Helvan explained smoothly. "The one on the left is for the ladies. Please, rest well."
"Dismount and unpack," Lina ordered. "We settle in, then we work."
The Men's Quarters: First Floor
The interior of the house was warm and surprisingly well-furnished. Gron began unstrapping his heavy shield, while Arthur set his pack down by the window, immediately scanning the foggy streets outside.