The bugle call blared long before dawn broke. Soon enough, the soldiers assembled to begin their grueling daily duties under the horn's shrill notes. When the patrol officer arrived at the small courtyard where Black's group was quartered, he was surprised to find them already up and waiting quietly for his arrival.
"Is it time for the patrol already?"
Black snapped his pocket watch shut with a crisp click. The officer standing before him stared at the nobles with a strange look on his face. He had fully expected these pampered lords to still be fast asleep—after all, the long journey to the Crimson Fortress was enough to exhaust even seasoned veterans, let alone a bunch of nobles who were probably unused to hardship. Yet the group before him showed no signs of fatigue whatsoever. On the contrary, they looked utterly relaxed, as if they were about to set off on a leisurely stroll rather than a dangerous patrol mission.
Of course, not everyone appeared so at ease. At least, the officer spotted a few young nobles who looked thoroughly worn out—a sight that drew a silent sneer from him. But to his trained eye, those weary youths seemed to have nothing in common with the black-haired noble standing at the forefront. Why on earth were they traveling together?
In truth, the young nobles had originally planned to bid Black farewell as soon as they reached the fortress, then seek out any tasks they could handle to prove their worth. But the soldiers' hostile reception had thoroughly disillusioned them. Since the garrison clearly wanted nothing to do with them, the nobles had no intention of humiliating themselves further. In the end, they had decided to stick with Black's group. After all, this young black-haired noble seemed to know what he was doing, and his followers were clearly formidable fighters. Staying with them would at least guarantee their safety. Admittedly, it was a blow to their pride—but these nobles had already swallowed their dignity once to survive this far. They were not about to quibble over it a second time. So they had brazenly stayed on, and for some reason, Black had not asked them to leave—a decision that put the young nobles' minds at ease.
Nevertheless, the young nobles' physical stamina and overall fitness were no match for Black's men. Black had initially suggested they stay behind to rest, but the nobles knew full well that if they failed to prove their mettle, they would soon be cast aside. So despite being exhausted from days of relentless travel, they had gritted their teeth, dragged themselves out of bed, and joined the patrol.
The officer leading the patrol was none other than the man who had met Black the previous day. He had no intention of exchanging pleasantries. After casting a cursory glance over the assembled group, he waved his hand silently and set off toward the patrol route with his soldiers in tow. Black and his companions exchanged a look before following closely behind. Oddly enough, the officer had given them no instructions on how to proceed—but that hardly posed a problem for Black.
"Trying to test us, are they?"
Black smiled as he watched the officer's retreating back, then made a hand gesture to Charlotte without turning his head. At the signal, the group immediately split up. Under Charlotte's command, the orcs formed a rhomboid defensive perimeter on the outside. Judy and the other wraith warriors took up positions in the inner circle. Interspersed between them were the maids with their crossbows, along with the young nobles. At the moment, the nobles were holding their own surprisingly well. Though their spirits were flagging, they managed to keep up with the march.
"Hm?"
Sensing the movement behind him, the officer glanced over his shoulder casually—and his eyes widened in astonishment.
The disorganized rabble he had seen moments ago had reorganized themselves into a neat, cohesive formation. Admittedly, the formation looked rather unorthodox, and the officer could not fathom its purpose. But that was beside the point. Junior officers like him cared little for grand battlefield tactics or complex formations. Their judgment was based on a soldier's discipline, speed, courage, and overall quality. While he could not yet assess the group's combat prowess, their ability to switch formations so quickly had already convinced him that these were no ordinary, undisciplined noble levies.
Black's maneuver had certainly caught the garrison soldiers' attention—but they were not particularly impressed. As veterans who had survived countless battles, they had seen plenty of flashy drills on the training ground that counted for nothing when the bullets started flying. A warrior who looked good on paper was worthless if he crumbled in the heat of battle. After all, the battlefield was for fighting—not for putting on a show.
So the soldiers merely raised their eyebrows at Black's little display before turning their attention back to the march, saying nothing more.
Patrolling was a tedious, mind-numbing task. According to protocol, the patrol had to march back and forth along the same route several times to ensure the area was secure. It was hardly a simple job. The first couple of rounds might feel novel, but after the third, fourth, or fifth time tramping the same path, even if your body did not tire, your mind certainly would. The young nobles were already feeling the strain. At first, the scenic beauty of the river valley had distracted them from their weariness and boosted their morale. But as the sun climbed higher in the sky and they trudged back and forth repeatedly, the exhaustion they had momentarily shaken off came crashing back with a vengeance.
Meanwhile, Black walked ahead as if oblivious to their suffering, chatting amicably with the lead officer. The officer, however, kept his mouth firmly shut, clearly determined not to engage with these troublesome nobles any more than necessary.
"If it's not too much trouble, could you share some information about the attackers with us?" Black asked politely. "I'm sure it would be beneficial to our cooperation."
Silence.
"Frankly, even if you don't say a word, I can tell the Crimson Fortress is facing a bit of a predicament right now. Am I correct? I understand your reluctance to trust outsiders, but surely we can set aside our differences and work together—at least for the time being?"
More silence.
"I take it you're not going to answer my questions, then?"
Black shrugged indifferently at the officer's stubborn silence. He pulled his pocket watch from his coat and glanced up at the scorching sun overhead. Though it was already autumn, the sun showed no mercy, blazing down relentlessly as if determined to sear itself into everyone's memory. The heat was enough to make anyone's head spin.
"Never mind. I suspect our wait will be over soon enough."
The officer came to an abrupt halt. He turned to face the young black-haired noble, his gaze piercing. After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke.
"It doesn't matter what you try to pry out of me, noble sir. This is just a routine patrol. There is nothing amiss. Your attempts to bait me or unsettle my men are futile. I suggest you stop wasting our time."
"I beg to differ."
Black snapped his silver pocket watch closed and slipped it back into his coat pocket. A faint smile played on his lips as he spoke.
"Actually, I know exactly what you're looking for—and I know exactly what you're up against. The river valley may seem peaceful enough to Westerland, but that is far from the case for Orlut. You see, there has long been a tribe of vile, ferocious, and thoroughly unpleasant creatures lurking within Orlut's borders."
"The Cyclops Tribe."
At the mention of that name, the officer's face paled slightly. His soldiers reacted identically, their previously lax movements vanishing without a trace, replaced by a level of vigilance the group had never seen before.
"Those damned beasts just can't stay out of trouble. I truly pity you—must be impossible to get a good night's sleep with them skulking about."
Ignoring the stunned expressions of the officer and his men, Black spread his hands, shaking his head in a gesture of exasperated sympathy. The soldiers and their officer stared at him in silence, waiting for him to continue, but made no attempt to interrupt. Black, however, paid them no mind. He glanced at the young nobles standing nearby, who were listening with rapt attention, smiled faintly, and went on.
"As a race, they are notoriously dim-witted—but their combat prowess is nothing to scoff at. That said, I have to hand it to the Sith Empire. Convincing a bunch of brain-dead brutes like that to fight for them can't have been easy. I wonder what kind of bribes they offered to win those beasts over. I doubt I could have pulled it off myself. It just goes to show that the Sith Empire didn't get to where it is by sheer luck."
"How… how do you know who our enemy is?"
By the time Black finished speaking, the officer's expression was grim. He rested his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, his eyes fixed on the young noble before him. Logically, he knew the young man must be bluffing—but his instincts screamed that every word Black had spoken was true. After all, the garrison had been under attack for days. As Black had surmised, the soldiers could not possibly have failed to identify their assailants by now.
"It's simple, really."
In response to the officer's question, Black pulled his canteen from his belt, took a sip of water, then smiled and explained.
"First of all, my loyal subordinates found fragments of their weapons. Those brainless brutes have no idea how to forge proper weapons. They only know how to bash things with crude stone clubs. And let's face it—no one else in their right mind would wield such cumbersome, oversized garbage."
Silence.
"Second."
Black held up a second finger.
"I examined the fortress wreckage closely. Most of the damage was inflicted at an extremely high altitude. If the attackers had been a flying unit, the angle of the strikes would have been too low. If they were ordinary ground troops, the damage would have been too high. In this entire river valley, there is only one group of creatures tall and strong enough to pull off something like that. Those idiotic beasts are the only ones who fit the bill."
The officer still did not speak, but his face had turned ashen white. He knew perfectly well that everything the young man was saying was true—it was the very conclusion the garrison had reached after months of painstaking investigation. But this young noble had figured it out in a matter of hours, just by glancing at the evidence?
A sudden realization struck the officer. The young man had introduced himself as a guest personally invited by the general. Could someone like that really be just an ordinary noble?
Even so, he was not about to back down. Just as the officer was about to speak again, Black held up a third finger.
"And last—but certainly not least—you told me yourselves."
"Hm?"
The officer and his patrol soldiers exchanged confused glances. They could not for the life of them think of any slip-up that could have given them away. How had this young man seen through their ruse?
"The reason is staring you right in the face."
Black said, pointing at the soldiers.
"You're carrying heavy shields on a patrol mission. Isn't that a bit odd? After all, the primary purpose of a patrol is to scout out enemy movements and report back. Carrying shields that slow you down drastically would defeat the entire point, wouldn't it?"
"Young man, this is nothing but wild speculation."
Though his face was now deathly pale, the officer forced himself to reply, his voice steady.
"You have no evidence to back up these claims. I don't know who you are or where you come from, but I am a garrison officer. My duty is to lead this patrol. I will not discuss anything further with you."
With that, the officer clamped his mouth shut and waved his hand to signal the march to continue. Though he tried his best to look composed, Black could see the tension in his posture. What was he nervous about? What was he afraid of?
"Wait a moment."
Just as the officer was about to turn and resume the patrol, Black placed a hand on his shoulder. The sudden contact made the officer jump, and his expression immediately turned to anger.
"Noble sir, what more do you—"
The officer's words trailed off into silence. A streak of black light had suddenly shot from Black's waist, slicing through the air like a blade and passing mere inches from the officer's body.
In the next instant, the officer felt two powerful gusts of wind brush past him on either side. Two enormous dark shapes hurtled out of the forest behind them and slammed violently into the mountainside ahead. The ground shook with the force of the impact, sending a shockwave rippling through the area that made everyone stumble. What on earth was happening? Then, as the dust cleared, everyone saw the true nature of the dark shapes.
They were massive boulders, split clean in two.
The officer needed no further explanation. He instantly realized what was going on. The very thing he had been trying so hard to avoid—the one thing he had prayed they would not encounter—had finally happened. But he did not panic. Without even pausing to thank Black, he spun around instinctively, drew his sword, and roared out an order at the top of his lungs.
"ALL UNITS, STAND TO!!!"
These patrol soldiers were clearly battle-hardened veterans. The moment they heard their officer's command, they scattered, taking cover in the river valley's natural depressions. Then, they raised their heavy shields in unison, forming an impenetrable wall of steel to block the incoming attack. The young nobles reacted instinctively, turning to stare in the direction the boulders had come from. Their eyes widened in disbelief at the sight that met them.
Dozens of towering humanoid creatures, each standing over three meters tall, emerged from the gully on the opposite side of the valley. They had a single, enormous eye set in the center of their foreheads. Their gaping maws took up half their grotesque faces, and when they roared, the sharp, jagged teeth lining their jaws glinted menacingly in the sunlight. At that moment, the cyclops were hefting massive boulders above their heads, preparing to hurl them at Black's group.
The others reacted quickly this time, following the patrol soldiers' example by scattering and using the valley's terrain to take cover. But these cyclops were no pushovers. Their first volley of boulders had not inflicted any casualties, but it had come perilously close, putting everyone on high alert. The patrol soldiers dared not move from their positions, only holding their shields higher to protect themselves from the incoming barrage. After all, a direct hit from one of those boulders would turn a man into a bloody pulp in an instant. For ordinary soldiers like them, defending against such an attack was next to impossible.
"SEND THE SIGNAL! THE SIGNAL, DAMMIT! THOSE SAVAGES ARE BACK! LAUNCH THE SIGNAL FLARE—WE NEED REINFORCEMENTS FROM THE FORTRESS, NOW!!!"
The officer was beside himself with anxiety, roaring orders as he scanned the enemy lines cautiously. One of his soldiers immediately obeyed, pulling a metal tube from his pocket and yanking hard on the pin. A burst of colorful light shot into the sky, illuminating the surrounding countryside. The bright flare seemed to enrage the cyclops. They let out a chorus of deafening roars and began advancing toward the patrol at a thunderous pace.
The attack had begun.