The midday sun should have brought warmth.
Instead, it felt like a cold judge, casting a pale, merciless light over the outpost.
All thirteen survivors stood gathered in the open space at its center. Before them, on a flat stone slab, lay the map and documents taken from Falk.
Colin stood over them.
He didn't soften his words. He didn't offer comfort.
Calmly, precisely, he relayed everything—Falk's orders, the patrol's mission, Goff's conclusions.
"…If Falk's unit fails to return to Westwind City within fifteen days, Earl Raymond will know something is wrong."
"The next force won't be ten men. It could be fifty… or a hundred."
"This outpost is already exposed."
Silence followed.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Then—
"A hundred… soldiers?" a woman whispered, her voice shaking. "Then… we're finished…"
That single sentence shattered everything.
"Run! We have to run!" Linna cried, panic overtaking her. "We barely survived this! I don't want to die here! Colin, you're strong—lead us away! If we go deeper into the forest, they'll never find us!"
Others echoed her.
"Yes! Staying is suicide!"
"This wall won't stop them!"
"My child… I can't let my child die here…"
Fear spread like wildfire.
The fragile morale built from victory collapsed in an instant.
"Run?"
Goff's hoarse voice cut through the chaos.
He stepped forward, jabbing a finger at the map.
"Run where?" he demanded. "This entire forest is someone else's hunting ground! Do you think you can hide better than foxes? Dig better than boars?"
His voice rose, thick with fury.
"That's exactly how the Crippled Tooth Tribe ran! From the rivers to the mountains… from the mountains to this cursed forest! And what did we get?"
"Extermination!"
His eyes burned red as he slammed a short sword into the ground.
"I'm done running like a dog! I'd rather die here—taking a few of them with me—than be shot in the back while fleeing!"
His words hit hard.
For a moment, no one spoke.
But fear clawed its way back.
"Staying is certain death!" Linna shot back. "Are we supposed to throw ourselves onto their blades?!"
"There's no way to win!"
"At least running gives us a chance!"
The crowd split.
Voices rose. Arguments flared. Some even began to shove each other.
Lina clutched Colin's clothes tightly, trembling.
Then Colin moved.
No shout.
No anger.
He walked forward, pulled the short sword from the ground, and turned to the stone wall.
With a sudden burst of force—
Pfft.
The blade sank straight into the wall as if it were soft clay.
The hilt quivered.
Silence fell instantly.
All eyes locked onto the impossible sight.
"This," Colin said, turning back, "is our wall."
His voice was calm. Cold.
"She's right. It won't stop a hundred men."
"It won't even stop twenty."
He looked at Linna and the others—not with anger, but with understanding.
"I understand your fear. I'm afraid of death too. No one wants to die."
Then he glanced at Goff.
"But Uncle Goff is right. There's nowhere left to run. Running only delays death."
He stepped into the center again, his gaze sweeping across every face.
"So if running leads to death… and staying leads to death…"
"It seems we have no choice."
Despair crept back in.
Until—
"No."
Colin crouched down and drew a heavy circle across the ground with the blade.
"We have a third option."
"We stay," he said, "but we don't wait to die."
"From this moment on, everyone follows my orders. In fifteen days, we turn this place into a real fortress."
"I'll show you how to rebuild these walls so they can't be broken."
"I'll lead you in digging trenches that stop cavalry cold."
"I'll create weapons far deadlier than swords."
His voice sharpened, cutting through doubt.
"Fifteen days from now—if we're strong enough—we stay and make the Earl's army bleed in this valley."
He paused.
"And if we're not…"
His tone deepened.
"We don't sit here and die."
"In these fifteen days, Goff will find a hidden escape route and prepare supplies. If the worst happens, I'll lead you out—through the one place they least expect."
"When we defend, we stand like stone."
"When we retreat, we strike like a blade."
"The choice to fight or flee… will be ours."
He rose and lifted the sword high.
"I'll give you a choice."
"Those who want to stay—who want to build a home with their own hands—stand behind me."
"Those who don't… I won't stop you. I'll give you three days of food. After that, your fate is your own."
His words hung in the air.
Not madness.
Not desperation.
A plan.
Clear. Calculated. Bold.
Hope… and a way out.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then—
Goff stepped forward without hesitation, taking his place behind Colin.
Lina followed, small but resolute.
Then Sarah.
Then the others.
Even Linna, after a long struggle, lowered her head… and walked over.
No one left.
Colin looked at the thirteen faces before him.
Different fears. Different thoughts.
But one shared decision.
To trust him.
He exhaled slowly.
The weight settled on his shoulders.
Responsibility.
He was no longer alone.
He was their leader.
"Good."
His voice steadied.
"Pick up your tools."
"We're out of time."