Roland stepped over the body of the tenth scout.
He scanned the shadows of the alley.
"Check that corner."
Violette nodded.
She moved like a ghost.
A man was hiding.
Deep in the darkness. Pressed behind a rotten, overturned rain barrel.
His dagger was raised.
He was waiting.
He was waiting for Roland to get just one step closer.
An ambush.
He held his breath.
Roland took the step.
The man lunged. A desperate, silent shadow.
He was fast.
Violette was faster.
She was already there. As if she'd been waiting for him.
A blur.
Her hand, held stiff like a blade.
A single, precise chop to the back of the neck.
Thud.
The man collapsed. Unconscious before he even knew what hit him.
Violette checked his pulse.
"He's still alive."
Roland let out a long, slow breath.
He wiped a smudge of grime from his cheek.
"That should be the last of them."
His mini-map was finally, blessedly, clear.
No more motionless red dots.
At least, not in the immediate area.
He had to admit.
These scouts were tough.
Damn tough.
Every single one of them was a skilled fighter.
Not a single ounce of fat on them.
One of them, the fourth one they'd cornered, had been a real problem.
He'd seen how powerful Violette was.
He hadn't tried to fight.
He'd tried to run.
He wasn't running away. He was running toward the Northern Reaches.
'He was trying to lure the main force back,' Roland thought. 'Or... more of those corpses.'
A shiver went down his spine.
If it hadn't been for the mini-map...
Roland had spotted the escape attempt instantly.
'He's getting away!'
Violette had simply vanished.
She'd reappeared thirty yards ahead of the scout, cutting him off at the end of the street.
The man's face... pure shock.
He'd been taken down, too.
Roland frowned, rubbing his chin.
He was puzzled.
'Who trained these men?'
They didn't fight like "common bandits."
Common bandits were thugs. Disorganized. They fought for themselves.
These men...
They fought like a disciplined army.
They used flanking maneuvers. They used cover. They communicated with silent hand signals.
They were an elite unit.
'Hell, they're far more professional than the lazy, overfed Windsor Castle garrison.'
And their loyalty...
It was iron-clad.
Roland had tried to make them talk.
He'd threatened them.
He'd tried to bribe them.
Nothing.
They just stared at him with cold, dead eyes.
Or... spat at him.
'Are these really bandits?'
It felt... wrong.
"The leader of this 'bandit' group," Roland thought to himself, his mind racing.
"Is no ordinary person."
...
"Tie them up. All of them."
The slaves, now acting as soldiers, obeyed.
They dragged the ten unconscious scouts—ten skilled, dangerous fighters—back to the armory and dumped them in a corner.
Roland didn't kill them.
He could have.
It would have been easier.
But...
'No.'
First, he wanted them as bargaining chips.
If this 'bandit leader' was as smart as Roland suspected, they'd want their elite scouts back.
Second...
He didn't want to make an immediate, mortal enemy out of a group he knew nothing about.
Not yet.
If there was a chance for cooperation... he'd take it.
He didn't care if they were bandits.
If they could be useful to his new territory...
They were worth talking to.
He was a pragmatic man.
This was the North. There was no 'good' and 'evil' here.
There was only 'survive' and 'die.'
When Roland returned, Anna immediately rushed forward.
She had a waterskin ready.
"My lord. You must be thirsty."
He took it, took a long drink.
Then, Anna did something new.
She turned to Violette, who was standing quietly by the door, and offered her a second waterskin.
Her attitude... it had changed.
It was deeply respectful.
"Miss Violette. You... you were incredible."
Before, Anna had been kind. Motherly, almost.
Now, there was a distance. A new formality.
Awe.
This was a Bloodline Awakener, after all.
A being of immense, terrifying power.
Not just a stray girl he'd picked up in an alley.
Violette was taken aback.
She fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable with the new respect.
"Ah... thank you. But... Sister Anna, you don't need to be so formal."
Anna just smiled, a little stiffly, and bowed her head.
"Of course, Miss."
'Ugh.'
Violette didn't like this.
As if suddenly remembering something, her expression turned playful.
She wanted to break this new, awkward tension.
"Sister Anna," she grinned.
She took something from her pocket... or, pretended to.
She cupped her hands together.
"This is a present for you."
Anna blinked.
Violette opened her hands.
Her palms were empty.
Anna stared, confused. "Miss...?"
Violette giggled.
A spark of silver light flashed in her cupped hands.
As if by magic, a vibrant, colorful flower appeared from nowhere. A wild mountain rose, perfect and in full bloom.
"Sister Anna, didn't you mention you wanted one of these? I saw it growing on a wall."
It was a simple, low-level shadow-storage trick.
Anna's eyes lit up.
"It's... it's beautiful!"
She reached for it.
Violette pulled her hand back, grinning slyly.
"Ah."
"Only if you promise."
"Promise?"
"Promise to stop being so formal with me. No more 'Miss Violette.' Just... Violette."
Anna hesitated.
Then she saw the look in Violette's eyes.
She smiled. A real smile this time.
She nodded vigorously.
Like a little chick pecking at grain.
"I promise... Violette."
"Good!"
Violette laughed and handed her the flower.
The next second, Violette froze.
Her smile vanished.
Replaced by... dumbfounded shock.
Thanks to her new, SSS-rank abilities, her hearing was... exceptional.
She clearly heard Anna, who had turned away, mutter to herself.
A soft, happy, private little murmur.
"Mm, Lord Roland loves this kind of flower. I'll give it to him when we get to the territory."
...What?!
Violette's mind went blank.
'It wasn't for... you?!'
'It was for... HIM?!'
'If I'd known, I wouldn't have given it to you!'
'And... and... you're plotting to regift it?!'
'Right in front of me!'
'How... How... HOW SHAMELESS!'
Violette was speechless.
She just stared at Anna's back, her jaw open.
At the same time, a new, treacherous thought popped into her head.
'Well... if Lord Roland likes them... I... I should pick some more for him later.'
'Yes. A whole bunch.'
'A whole bouquet.'
'I'll give them to him... secretly. So Anna doesn't see.'
She turned to Anna, her expression a mix of betrayal and curiosity.
"Sister Anna..."
"Yes, Violette?" Anna replied, still smiling at the flower.
"How did you... and Lord Roland... meet, anyway?"
Anna's lips curved into a mysterious smile.
"That," she said, tapping her nose, "is a secret."
Violette pouted.
A light blush crept onto her pale cheeks.
She stared at the floor.
She bit her lower lip.
She asked a question, her voice as quiet as a mosquito's buzz.
"Have you... and Lord Roland... you know..."
She made a vague, terrified gesture.
"...done it?"
"Done...?"
Anna froze.
It took a few seconds for it to click.
"...it?"
Her own face flushed a deep, sudden red.
She shot a quick, panicked glance at Roland's back. He was across the room, talking to the new slave-soldiers. He couldn't hear.
She turned back to Violette.
Her shock was gone.
Replaced by a deeply meaningful, teasing, wicked smile.
"Why?" Anna whispered, leaning in close.
"Are you... interested?"
Violette's face...
Instantly...
Exploded.
She went from pale white to the color of a ripe, boiled apple.
"I-I-I-NO! I WAS JUST- I-"
She stared intently at the ground. As if it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.
She wanted to die.
She wanted to melt into the shadows.
Anna laughed. A soft, warm laugh.
For Anna, handling an innocent, pure-hearted girl like Violette... was just too easy.
This brief, teasing exchange...
It completely broke the ice.
All the awkwardness. All the formality.
Gone.
Anna realized that even with her new, terrifying, head-chopping power...
Violette was still the same girl she had met yesterday.
Just... with a predator's instincts.
And a teenager's raging curiosity.
...
Just then, Roland turned back.
He had finished his inspection of the new troops.
He noticed Violette's bright red face.
He frowned.
"Your face... What's wrong?"
He stepped closer, his expression all concern.
"Are you sick? Did you breathe in some poison from the corpses? Did one of those scouts scratch you?"
He reached out to feel her forehead.
Violette's face, if possible, burned even hotter.
"I'M FINE!" she squeaked, taking a huge step back.
"Good. Then focus."
Roland's demeanor snapped back to business.
"The thirty men we just armed," he said, his voice carrying over the room.
"You're with me."
A murmur of fear and excitement went through the small group.
"The rest of you, stay here."
He pointed at Anna.
"Anna, you're in charge."
"My lord?"
"Keep an eye on the inner city. That coward Kevin might get brave, but I doubt it."
"Your main job... get the other slaves organized."
"I want you to start moving supplies."
"Besides the weapons, I want the grain."
His eyes were hard.
"That's a vital strategic resource. I want every last sack."
Anna nodded.
Her face was serious.
As much as she wanted to go with him, she knew her role.
Obeying his orders, unconditionally, was her first priority.
"It will be done, my lord."
"Alright."
Roland turned to his new, 30-man assault team.
He looked at Violette.
He gave a sharp, wolfish grin.
"Let's go say hello to the bandit leader."
After losing contact with ten of their elite scouts...
The enemy definitely knew they were here.
And they were definitely... waiting.