"I'll go get some rest. Once I wake up, gather the people. They need to know what we're facing, and they need to stand with us."
Hound nodded, silent but resolute.
Vi had already been escorted to the town head's house. With no more tasks to attend to, Kaelor made his way to the bath chamber and found the tub already filled, steam curling up from its surface.
He let out a tired chuckle. 'The perks of having an Acranist maid.'
The heat eased the strain in his body as he lowered himself into the water. Muscles ached. But the warmth numbed it all, even the gnawing weight in his chest.
After the bath came a meal, bread, smoked Sunmaw Prowler's meat, some leftover broth, and finally, the bed. Lying down, Kaelor stared at the ceiling.
'How do I defend a village with walls that can barely keep itself upright?'
His thoughts circled endlessly, strategy after strategy falling apart in his mind like brittle parchment. Eventually, fatigue won.
….
The sun was high when he stood at the town square.
Hundreds had gathered. Mothers with babies swaddled in rags. Farmers with straw hats still on their heads. Rough men with calloused hands folded over their chests. Children peeking from behind their parents.
Kaelor stood on a raised platform at the heart of the square, two Dreadclaws flanking him, tall, bestial silhouettes with Mountain Sabers, their very presence daring anyone to misstep.
The murmuring died as Kaelor stepped forward.
He took a breath.
"As promised, I and the Dreadclaws ventured into the Devil Forest," Kaelor began, his voice echoing across the hushed square. "And now more than ever I understand why it bears that name."
He paused, scanning the faces before him, weathered farmers, wary mothers, hardened survivors of the wilderness.
"Within that forest lies an army of giant wolves," he continued, voice rising. "Devil Wolves!" he thundered, the words crashing into the crowd like a dropped hammer.
"They've driven off the prey. The forest is theirs now. And their eyes,"—he pointed at himself "are set on us. Any day from now, nearly a hundred of them will come marching down from the wild, ready to take our farms, our children... our lives."
A cold silence swept through the crowd like a sudden gust of winter wind.
On the fringes of the gathering, standing beside Mildred, Vi folded her arms tightly across her chest, her brows furrowing into a scowl.
"He's a fool," she muttered. "He's going to make them panic. They'll flee. He'll be left alone… or worse, they'll turn on him and blame him for bringing fear to their doorstep."
Mildred, calm but grim, turned her gaze to Vi. "Lord Kaelor is not a fool. He's a smart man."
Vi scoffed. "Then what's his plan? You think he's going to fight off a hundred devil wolves with six beast-men and these villagers? With what wall? What army? Even twenty of those things would level this place. Leaving is the only sane option."
A bitter smile ghosted across Mildred's lips. "You haven't been here long enough to know that we don't have that option."
Kaelor's gaze swept over the crowd again, his eyes pausing on Vulcanus.
The blacksmith's temples were furrowed, his massive arms folded tight across his chest. That subtle frown, that faint increase in his breathing, made Kaelor's heart clench.
'He might be thinking of leaving.'
Kaelor couldn't afford that. Not now. Vulcanus was no ordinary man, and more importantly, he hadn't yet said a word about the beastkin. Whatever history that man carried, it was heavy, and much greater than he could think of. But for now, Kaelor had to anchor him, along with the others.
"Do not fret," Kaelor said, lifting his voice just enough to draw attention. "Have you forgotten what I can do?"
A ripple of recognition passed through the crowd. Murmurs quieted. Eyes turned back to him, some still doubtful, others wide with hope.
"Every man must be ready to fight," Kaelor continued, his voice calm but resolute. "Those who are willing will be made Guardsmen. And with that duty comes reward: a large portion of food for you and your family."
A few heads turned toward each other, whispering.
"But more than food, I will grant each of you the power of a devil wolf," Kaelor said, his words crackling like flint. "Stand with me until the end of this war, and with each wolf we bring down, your strength will grow. You'll protect your kin, not just with hope, but with claws, speed, and power that no man in this land can give you."
A murmur of awe and disbelief began to build, hesitant, yet rising.
And then, at just the right moment, Hound and three of the Dreadclaws emerged from the side, each carrying large slabs of meat.
A gasp rippled through the crowd as the scent hit the air. Juicy, primal, mouthwatering.
"That's Sunmaw Prowler meat," Kaelor said, flashing a grin. "I had some this morning. And let me tell you…" he leaned forward slightly, voice dropping just enough to tease, "...you might want to chew your tongue so you don't bite it clean off."
Laughter erupted, light but real. The weight of despair began to lift, like fog under a rising sun. Eyes once dull with fear now shone with cautious excitement as hands reached forward, trembling not with dread but hunger.
And Kaelor knew… the spark had been lit.
"We need trees!" Kaelor's voice rang out like a commandment. "Grab whatever you can, axes, blades, even stones if you must. We need timber for the walls. Without a proper defense, survival is a dream. The wall is our first priority. Once it's up, we'll begin setting traps."
Even before he could call for volunteers, a few men surged forward.
"My Lord, I wish to join the Guardsmen!"
"Me too, My Lord!"
"I'll fight, I've nothing else to lose!"
Voices broke out in waves, some choked with emotion, others brimming with a fire Kaelor hadn't seen since he arrived in this battered town.
One by one, then two, then a dozen stepped forward. The crowd split, some gathered near the edge, shouting for tools, others lined up before Kaelor, eager to serve, to fight.
[Congratulations, the loyalty of your subjects in Redwood Town has reached a perfect 100%. You have gained 2000 FP.]
[Total FP: 2,500!]
Kaelor's chest tightened. This, this was what leadership looked like. Not just giving orders, but standing tall so others could stand with him.
Not like his superiors in the construction site who just loved to yell and give orders without leading by example for once.
And just as he turned to thank them, a soft yet commanding voice rose above the din:
"I'll help with the trees."
He turned, startled. The crowd parted, just enough for her to be seen.
There, standing tall in a borrowed tunic stained faintly with healing salves, was Vi.
Her silver hair shimmered beneath the morning light, tied back now into a practical tail. Though her posture was calm, her eyes bored into him. No longer just the noble beauty astride a dying horse, but a conflicted woman with hope.
Kaelor blinked, stunned for a moment. He hadn't expected her to offer help, especially not with something so… ordinary.
The villagers noticed too. A few exchanged glances. A few women gawked. One man muttered, "Wow! She looks…"
A glare from Hound silenced him.
And yet, Vi didn't flinch.
"I said I'll help," she repeated, with a ghost of a smirk. "Unless, of course, I'm not welcome?"
Kaelor chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped toward her.
"Help is always welcomed." he said, voice steady. "And I'm glad you chose to stand with us."
Her true reason though? Kaelor tried to guess but had no clue.