Chapter 12: When Orders Draw Blood
The Northern Plains did not welcome them.
They swallowed them.
The land opened wide and empty, a white expanse stretching farther than the eye could follow. No forests. No walls. No comfort. Just wind, snow, and shallow rises that hid danger until it was already too close.
The sky felt lower here.
Heavier.
Aren crossed the last boundary marker with his squad and felt the pressure settle immediately. Not fear. Not excitement.
Responsibility.
Behind them, the main army adjusted formation, spreading wider to avoid becoming an easy target. Scouts moved ahead in pairs, silhouettes blurring against the snow.
Aren lifted his hand.
The squad slowed without question.
Rovan moved to his left. Corin adjusted his spear grip. Lethan limped slightly but kept pace, jaw tight. No one spoke.
The plains punished noise.
A horn sounded behind them—short, clipped.
A mounted officer rode forward, reins stiff with frost.
"Forward screening squad," he said. "Advance one and a half kilometers north-northeast."
Aren frowned. "Reason?"
"Command spotted movement near the ridge line," the officer replied. "Possible raiders."
"Support?"
The officer hesitated. "Negative. Orders are observation and delay only. Do not engage unless forced."
Aren looked past the man, toward the low ridge barely visible through the snow.
Delay only.
That meant bait.
Aren nodded. "Understood."
The officer rode back without waiting for more questions.
The squad moved.
The farther they advanced, the quieter the world became. Snow muffled their steps. Wind erased distance. Even breath felt loud in the stillness.
Aren felt the tension rising.
This was bad terrain for delay tactics.
Too open. Too exposed.
He raised his fist.
They stopped.
Rovan leaned in. "You don't like this."
"No," Aren replied. "We're too far out."
"Orders say—"
"I know what orders say."
Aren studied the ridge ahead. Snow drifted unnaturally along one side. Wind didn't move there the way it should.
Ambush.
They were already inside it.
"Aren," Corin said quietly, "if we pull back now—"
"They'll follow," Aren replied. "And hit the column."
Silence followed.
This was the choice.
Follow orders and delay — and risk drawing pursuit back to the army.
Or engage — and risk losing men out here.
Aren inhaled slowly.
"Change of plan," he said. "We hold here. Tight formation. If they move, we cut their momentum."
Rovan nodded immediately.
Lethan hesitated. "Orders were—"
"I know," Aren said. "This is on me."
The snow ahead exploded.
Figures burst from the ridge line, moving fast and low, axes raised, bodies already leaning into the charge.
Northern raiders.
Too many.
"Hold!" Aren shouted.
The first clash came hard.
Axes slammed into shields. Snow churned underfoot. A spear scraped armor. Blood splashed dark against white.
Aren stepped forward.
Silent Crossing.
The blade aligned and moved before thought finished. The cut landed cleanly, opening a raider's throat mid-charge.
One down.
The line held.
Aren searched for the moment.
Last Step.
A raider advanced aggressively, overcommitting, confidence high.
Aren waited.
Waited—
—and misjudged.
The raider adjusted at the last instant, instinctively sensing danger. Aren's blade arrived late, deflected by brute force. The counterstrike slammed into Aren's shoulder, spinning him sideways.
Pain flared.
Aren stumbled back, abandoning the form.
"Left!" he shouted instead.
Corin reacted instantly, spear thrusting into the gap. Rovan slammed forward, shield-first. Bran followed despite his injured arm, grunting as impact rattled his bones.
They stabilized.
But the cost came fast.
A scream cut through the wind.
Lethan went down.
Not dead — but hit hard, an axe biting into his thigh as he tried to reposition.
Aren saw it.
The world narrowed.
"Fall back!" Aren ordered. "Two steps! Now!"
They retreated in unison, shields locking, dragging Lethan back through the snow. The raiders pressed, sensing blood.
Aren made the call.
"Kill their center."
He stepped forward again.
Silent Crossing.
Once. Twice.
The blade found its line. The raiders hesitated as two bodies fell almost simultaneously.
That hesitation saved lives.
The remaining attackers disengaged, retreating toward the ridge, unwilling to pay the price Aren was now demanding.
Silence returned.
Broken only by breathing and wind.
Aren knelt beside Lethan immediately.
"Stay with me," Aren said.
Lethan nodded weakly, teeth clenched. "Didn't mean to—"
"Don't talk."
The horn sounded behind them — long and urgent.
Support.
Too late.
Medics arrived minutes later, binding Lethan's wound. Blood loss was significant, but controlled.
No one was dead.
But this wasn't clean.
Back at the column, the atmosphere was different.
Officers watched Aren's squad with tight expressions. Whispers followed them.
Aren felt it.
The weight of disobedience.
Seraphina Valecrest approached after dusk.
She dismissed the medics with a gesture and faced Aren directly.
"You disobeyed orders," she said.
"Yes."
"You engaged when told to delay."
"Yes."
Her gaze flicked briefly to Lethan, resting now under a blanket.
"And one of yours paid for it."
"Yes."
Silence stretched.
"Why?" Seraphina asked.
Aren met her eyes.
"If we delayed," he said, "they would have followed us back to the column. The army would've taken heavier losses."
Seraphina studied him.
"You chose your judgment over command."
"Yes."
"That's dangerous," she said.
"I know."
She turned away, then stopped.
"But you didn't pursue," she added. "And you broke their momentum."
"Yes."
Seraphina looked back at him.
"Next time," she said, "you'll be judged not on whether you're right—but on how many survive your decisions."
She left without another word.
The system surfaced quietly.
[Doctrine: Sword of Paradise]
[Silent Crossing — Execution: Effective]
[Last Step — Execution: Failed]
[Mastery: 50% → 51%]
No comfort.
Just record.
That night, the squad sat in silence.
Bran finally spoke. "You saved the column."
Rovan nodded. "But Lethan paid."
Silence again.
Aren stared into the snow.
"I made the call," he said. "That's on me."
No one argued.
The Plains did not care about orders.
They only cared about blood.
And today—
Blood had been drawn.