"The Vanceforts were our allies before," Roderic said, his tone tight with concern. "They fought alongside us in the war against the Burkens. But the current Viscount, Alaric Vancefort… he's different. Not friendly, not kind like his father. He's aggressive, and his house is at war with neighboring territories."
I frowned, leaning against the window frame. "And the King… he doesn't do anything about this?"
Roderic sighed, the weight of years in his voice. "The King is old, my lord, in poor health. The princes are quarreling among themselves over the throne."
I blinked, surprised. "But… wasn't he a Battlemaster? They can live well over a hundred years."
"Yes," Roderic admitted, his eyes distant. "But thirteen years ago, he suffered severe injuries in battle. At the time, he was already over seventy. Some wounds never healed fully. That's the truth of it."
I gave a slow nod, letting the weight of it settle. "I see…"
Roderic inclined his head respectfully. "Now… go, my lord. Rest."
As he left, I turned back to the window, staring toward the forest. The trees swayed lightly in the wind, yet in their shadows, I could feel the stirring of unseen threats.
---
Time passed. A week of relentless drills had worn the levy thin, but it had also shaped them. From the lord's hall, I watched the yard below. Rowan's voice cut through the morning mist, sharp and commanding. The one hundred levies were not knights — not even close — but their ragged lines moved with a new rhythm. Spears no longer wobbled, shields locked with a practiced precision. They were far from strong, but they were no longer mere villagers with farm tools. They were soldiers in the making.
Rowan stepped into the hall, sweat still streaking his face and armor. He bowed, eyes bright.
"My lord, the men are shaping up. They won't stand against seasoned veterans yet, but they can hold a line," he said, pride barely contained.
"And…?" I prompted, my curiosity piqued.
"Good news," Rowan continued. "A handful were reputed hunters before joining the drills. With proper training, three of them have now reached mid-Steel rank. Not much… but it will make a difference when steel meets steel."
I let that sink in. Aura awakenings among common levies were rare, yet here it was, happening before my eyes.
"What is our total strength? Every detail — Steel rankers, numbers, everything," I asked.
Rowan nodded, counting on his fingers. "Including old soldiers and the new recruits, we have seven Steel rankers — four mid, two high, one peak. Myself… I'm a mid-Bronze. Total army stands at one hundred fifty."
I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me. A Bronze-ranked knight like Rowan could anchor the levy when fear threatened to break them.
The door creaked open again. My cousin, James Ashenvale, entered. He carried himself with the calm certainty of a soldier, his armor plain but well-kept, sword at his hip polished and ready.
"Milord," he greeted, bowing slightly. James was twenty, same as me, the son of my late uncle who had fallen in the war.
"Rowan , you told me your second fell in the battle led by my father," I said, the memory sharp in my mind.
"Yes, milord," Rowan replied, voice steady, though I sensed a shadow of grief beneath it.
I met James gaze. "Then from now on, you will serve as vice commander of the army."
James' eyes widened for a fraction, then hardened with resolve. "Thank you, milord. I won't fail you… or Ashenvale."
I smiled faintly. "It's nothing, brother. You've fought for Ashenvale already. The army needs capable hands."
---
Just then, a dust-streaked soldier burst into the hall, saluting sharply.
"My lord! A rider from Jarek's scouts!"
He handed me a hastily sealed parchment. I broke it open, reading the messy handwriting:
Bandits gather in the eastern woods. Numbers uncertain, but they test our defenses. Camps near the old mill road. Raiding lightly for now. Their leader, the one called Butcher, has not moved — but signs point to a larger assault soon.
I set the report down, mind racing.
"Send word to Jarek," I said quietly. "Observe, but do not engage. The time for shadows will end soon. And when it does… Ashenvale will answer with steel."