The convoy arrived at Oakhaven just as the sun began to bleed over the eastern mountains.
It was a ragtag procession. The sleighs were overloaded with scavenged coal, sacks of grain, and weapons. Behind them walked fifty-two liberated slaves—shivering, limping, but free.
When they passed through the stone gate and entered the yard, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
To them, Oakhaven looked like paradise.
The Shroud of Mist Renard had sold them kept the worst of the wind out. The air inside the walls was warmer, humming with the vibrant life-force of the World Tree. Spectral rabbits hopped through the snow. The greenhouse glowed like a giant emerald lantern.
"Is this... magic?" a young Badger beastman asked, clutching a blanket.
"No," Valeria said, jumping down from the lead sleigh. "This is infrastructure."
She looked at the chaotic mass of refugees. They were exhausted, starving, and traumatized. If she didn't organize them fast, this rescue would turn into a humanitarian disaster.
"Ignis!" she barked. "Layout!"
The Dragon was already moving, his cane pointing here and there.
"Kael, take the able-bodied males. Clear the snow on the west side of the yard. We set up the tents there. Use the coal braziers from the mine to create heat zones."
"Caspian," Ignis continued. "We need water. Not just for drinking. Sanitation. Dig a latrine trench behind the outer wall, downstream from the well. Hygiene prevents plague."
"Silas," Valeria added. "Get the wounded into the barn. It's insulated. That will be our infirmary."
"And you?" Ignis asked, looking at her.
Valeria rolled up her sleeves. "I'm going to the kitchen. Fifty people need to eat in an hour, or we'll have a riot."
The Soup of Loyalty
The kitchen became a war room of culinary logistics.
Valeria didn't have enough bowls. She didn't have enough spoons. But she had the massive cast-iron cauldron she had looted from the mine's canteen.
She filled it with water, ten pounds of Spirit Wheat (ground into a rough grit), the remaining salt, dried Stalker meat, and frozen vegetables from the root cellar.
[System Skill Activated: Alchemical Cooking.]
[Effect: Maximizes nutritional absorption. Adds minor "Warmth" buff.]
While the soup simmered, filling the house with a rich, savory aroma, Valeria stepped out onto the porch.
The yard was a hive of activity.
Kael was a natural commander. The Tiger General was directing the Bears and Oxen beastmen to erect the heavy canvas tents they had stolen from the Guild. He didn't yell; he led by example, hammering stakes into the frozen ground with his bare fists.
Silas moved among the frightened ones—the Deer and Rabbits—speaking softly, touching foreheads, calming their panic with his Alpha aura.
But there was tension.
Thorne, the old Bear beastman who had led the surrender, was standing by the fire, watching Kael with a critical eye.
Valeria walked over to him.
"You have questions, Thorne," she said.
The massive Bear looked down at her. He was missing an ear, and his fur was matted with old scars.
"I know the Tiger," Thorne rumbled. "He was the 'Gilded Champion' in the capital pits. He fought for glory. Now he builds tents for a human woman."
Thorne narrowed his eyes. "Why? Did you enslave him with magic?"
"I freed him," Valeria said calmly. "Just like I freed you. Kael stays because he chooses to. He stays because he wants to build a kingdom, not just survive in a cage."
Thorne snorted. "A kingdom? Here? In a ruin?"
"Look around you, Thorne," Valeria gestured to the organized chaos. "We have food. We have heat. We have weapons. And we have a wall. That is more of a kingdom than you've had in years."
She handed him a ladle.
"If you want to lead, don't stand there judging. Serve the soup."
Thorne stared at the ladle. Then at the line of starving refugees forming by the porch.
He took the ladle.
The Council of Six
That night, after the refugees were fed and settled in the heated tents, the core team gathered in the living room.
It was cramped. The air smelled of woodsmoke and wet fur.
"Status report," Valeria said, leaning over the map.
"We have fifty-two new mouths," Ignis said, his face grim. "Our current food stores will last four days. Five if we ration."
"The Spirit Wheat matures fast," Valeria countered. "But not that fast. We need protein."
"Hunting," Kael suggested. "The forest is full of game."
"And full of Guild patrols," Silas warned. "If we send hunting parties out, we leave tracks. The snow is our enemy."
"Then we need to bring the game to us," Valeria said.
She looked at Caspian.
"Caspian, is the aquifer connected to the nearby lake?"
"Yes," the Shark nodded. "Underground tunnels. Fish swim through."
"Can you... convince them to swim into our well?"
Caspian grinned, showing all his teeth. "I can sing the Song of the Deep. It attracts fish. But... it might attract other things. Water drakes. Giant eels."
"We'll eat those too," Kael said, sharpening his axe. "Meat is meat."
"Good," Valeria said. "Food crisis: pending solution. Now, defense."
She looked at Lucian. The Phoenix was polishing his goggles, looking exhausted but proud.
"What did you see from the air, Lucian?"
"Tracks," Lucian said. "To the south. Riders. Not mercenaries. They wore heavy cloaks and rode black horses."
Ignis froze. "Black horses? With silver tack?"
"Yes," Lucian nodded. "And they had dogs. Big dogs."
Ignis dropped his face into his hands.
"The Houndmaster," Ignis whispered.
"Who?" Valeria asked.
"Commander Varg," Kael growled, his hackles rising. "He is the Guild's premier tracker. He doesn't use magic. He uses a pack of Hell-Hounds. If he is on our trail... the shroud won't help. The hounds track souls, not mana."
"Souls?" Valeria asked. "How do you mask a soul?"
"You don't," Ignis said. "You can only mask the scent with something stronger. Something that smells like death."
Valeria looked at her inventory list. She didn't have death.
But she had alchemy.
"I need to get into the Library," Valeria said, standing up. "Kael, double the watch. Silas, patrol the perimeter. If you smell dogs, do not engage. Run back to the wall."
The Library of the Villainess, as Valeria called it in her head, was her secret weapon as well as her golden finger for this world. She sat in her bedroom, closed her eyes, and visualized the great oak doors.
She stepped into the Universal Archive.
The library had changed. It was larger now. New sections had unlocked thanks to the recent mission completions.
She walked past Engineering and Agriculture. She went to the dark corner of the library - the section she usually avoided.
[Section: Forbidden Alchemy & Toxicology].
She pulled a book titled Olfactory Warfare: Masking Agents and Irritants.
She flipped through the pages until she found it.
[Recipe: The Corpse-Flower Mist.]
Ingredients: Sulfur, Rotting Meat, Nightshade, and Wolfsbane.
Effect: Creates a heavy gas that mimics the scent of a decaying graveyard. Overwhelms sensitive olfactory organs.
"If they track souls," Valeria muttered, reading the footnotes, "this won't stop them completely. But it will blind their noses. It will force them to rely on sight."
And if they relied on sight, they had to come within range of the ballistae.
She grabbed another book. Traps for Large Predators.
"If Varg brings Hell-Hounds," she whispered, "I'm going to need bigger mines."
The Next Morning
The camp woke to the sound of hammering.
Kael and the blacksmiths (three strong Ox beastmen from the refugees) were forging spikes. Massive, two-foot-long iron spikes.
Valeria was at the alchemy table, mixing a slurry of foul-smelling brown liquid.
"Thorne," Valeria called out to the Bear leader.
Thorne approached, looking wary of the smell. "What is this witch's brew?"
"Perfume," Valeria said grimly. "For our guests."
She handed him a bucket.
"Take a squad. Go to the tree line, about a mile out. Paint the trunks of the trees with this. Do not get it on your skin. It attracts flies and smells like a week-old battlefield."
Thorne sniffed the bucket and gagged. "This will stop the dogs?"
"It will make them vomit," Valeria corrected. "Which gives us time to shoot them."
As Thorne left with the bucket, Lucian flew down from the roof.
"Commander!" he chirped urgently. "Flag on the horizon! Red and Black!"
"The Guild," Kael said, joining them.
"No," Lucian said. "Not the Guild. It's... it's a carriage. With the Ironclad crest. But it's flying a distress flag."
Valeria frowned. "The Duke? He just left two days ago."
"He's coming back," Lucian said. "And he's moving fast. Something is chasing him."
Valeria grabbed her monocle. She ran to the wall.
Sure enough, the Duke's black iron carriage was careening down the snowy road toward Oakhaven. The horses were foaming. And behind them, closing fast, were five massive, black shapes loping through the snow.
[Target: Hell-Hound (B-Rank Beast).]
[Status: Frenzied.]
"Varg isn't hunting us," Valeria realized with horror. "He's hunting our ally."
The Guild had decided to cut the head off the snake. They were trying to assassinate the Duke before he could convene the tribunal.
"Open the gate!" Valeria screamed. "Kael, on the wall! Man the ballista! Ignis, get the mines ready!"
"We can't let those hounds inside!" Ignis shouted. "They breathe fire!"
"If the Duke dies, we lose our political shield!" Valeria yelled back. "Open the damn gate!"
The heavy timber gates groaned open.
The carriage thundered into the yard, skidding to a halt. The Duke's knights were gone, likely dead on the road.
The five Hell-Hounds reached the gate. They were size of ponies, with burning coal-red eyes and smoke trailing from their jaws.
"Fire!" Valeria ordered.
The twin ballistae thrummed.
One bolt missed. The other struck the lead hound in the shoulder, pinning it to the frozen ground. It howled, a sound of unholy rage.
The other four didn't stop. They leaped over their fallen packmate and charged the open gate.
Kael jumped down from the wall, shield raised.
"Hold the line!" he roared.
But he wasn't alone.
Thorne and the Bear beastmen, armed with mining picks and heavy chains, stepped up beside him.
"For the Sanctuary!" Thorne bellowed.
The collision was brutal.