The afternoon following Kael's decree was dominated by the sound of nervous digging. The population of Ashfall, driven by fear of starvation and the sight of Sergeant Rylen's vigilant knights, had been deployed. Kael did not supervise from the manor. Instead, he stood on the low ridge overlooking the sluggish river, pointing the first work crews toward their objective: securing clean water.
Kael stood with Rylen on the ridge, sketching deliberately in the dry, cracked dirt with a stick.
"The village well is fed by shallow runoff," Kael explained, his breath visible in the cold air. "When the rains come, every drop of refuse, animal waste, and surface contaminant washes directly into the source. We have been drinking sewage."
Rylen, whose skepticism had been muted by Kael's command presence, now felt genuine unease. "We have always done it this way, my lord. Our priests say the water spirits have simply turned against us."
"The spirits have nothing to do with gravity and soil permeability," Kael countered, scraping a detailed line into the dirt. "We are going to abandon the well. We will construct a stone-lined basin near the river—a point far from the village waste pits. From that basin, we will run an elevated channel, a small aqueduct, back to the village perimeter."
Rylen frowned at the term aqueduct, which sounded like a forgotten piece of grand imperial history. "That is immense work, my lord. Where would we get the wood for the troughs?"
"The trough wood can be pulled from the collapsed manor outbuildings," Kael said, pointing toward the ruins the previous Baron had left to rot. "The stones are everywhere. The channel must be both elevated and covered, preventing airborne ash and surface contaminants from getting in. This isn't just a trench, Rylen. It is a sealed transport system."
Kael then shifted the focus entirely. "Your men are not here to dig. They are here to guard the workers and the eventual supply route. But I need your judgment on defense, specifically for the village itself."
"Against bandits, my lord? The walls are useless," Rylen repeated, gesturing toward the dilapidated wooden palisade.
"Exactly," Kael agreed. "And building a solid stone curtain wall takes years. We need to secure the village now. We need a modern field fortification."
Kael erased his water sketch and began to describe the principles of flanking fire and interlocking fields of view—the geometry behind a star fort. He sketched the basic, geometric shape in the dirt.
"Instead of tall, single walls, we build low, angled bastions at the corners of the village—points, like a five-pointed star," Kael explained. "The design eliminates blind spots. A soldier standing on one point can fire arrows at anyone attacking the wall of the next point. There is nowhere to hide."
Rylen stared at the complex, elegant geometry in the dust. It was utterly alien to the simple, vertical palisades he knew, yet the tactical superiority was obvious. It utilized simple geometry to create a superior defensive position.
"That eliminates the need for mages to light the shadows," Rylen murmured, recognizing the sheer efficiency.
"It eliminates the need for magic entirely, Sergeant," Kael confirmed. "It uses geometry, not power. I need you to oversee the construction of the corner points, starting with the two facing the north road. Use the large stones, use the rotted wood as core fill. Teach the men how to angle the walls to deflect projectiles."
Rylen looked from the drawing to the Baron. Kael Veynar had shown him more practical military and engineering knowledge in ten minutes than his entire career. This wasn't a spoiled son of a Duke. This was a commander who understood how to build survival.
"My Lord Baron," Rylen said, his voice carrying genuine respect this time. "The bastions will stand. I need just a few men with construction experience, and the right tools."
"The blacksmith is at the manor," Kael said. "Go tell him you need picks and reinforced shovels immediately. Tell him they are not requests; they are orders for Imperial defense."
Kael watched Rylen ride off, the knight's posture now straight and purposeful. The most immediate threat to his command—the skepticism of his sworn escort—was neutralized through demonstrated competence.