The final cries of battle still echoed through the ruined settlement.
Steel clashed against steel. Men shouted over one another. Somewhere to the east, a horse screamed as it collapsed onto the blood-soaked earth.
Amidst the chaos, Aldreic moved.
Not like a frightened child caught in war.
Not like someone fighting for survival.
But with an unnatural precision that sent chills through the men who happened to witness it.
Wulfric parried a heavy overhead strike, shoving the enemy soldier backward before his eyes instinctively drifted toward the young boy several yards away.
Aldreic ducked beneath a swinging blade.
Pivoted.
Drove the stolen sword cleanly beneath the ribs of another soldier.
No hesitation.
No panic.
No wasted movement.
The man collapsed instantly.
For a brief moment, Wulfric simply stared.
Then another soldier rushed him, forcing him back into the fight.
Nearby, Hugo slammed the pommel of his sword into an opponent's jaw, but even amidst combat his eyes had already caught sight of the same thing.
The boy.
gods above…
His expression darkened.
They actually succeeded.
Neither of them had time to dwell on the thought.
War did not wait for astonishment.
The battle raged on.
Minutes later…
Silence.
The enemy settlement had fallen.
Smoke drifted lazily upward from shattered wooden structures, carrying with it the bitter smell of burnt timber and fresh blood. Broken carts littered the muddy streets while exhausted mercenaries dragged corpses aside, some collapsing against overturned barrels, too drained to move further.
The company had begun setting camp.
Aldreic silently helped drive wooden stakes into the earth, securing loose tent ropes as sweat dripped slowly from his forehead. His breathing had steadied, though his muscles still hummed strangely from the fight.
A few yards away, inside the center of the captured settlement, Wulfric and Hugo stood over a large weathered table covered with worn maps and faded military charts.
"We move slower from here," Wulfric muttered, tracing a route deeper into enemy territory. "If we push too fast, we risk missing him entirely."
Hugo folded his arms.
"And if we move too slowly?"
Wulfric's expression hardened.
"Then we fail before we even begin."
Hugo stared quietly at the map.
"The Immortal King won't ignore repeated incursions this deep. Eventually…" he exhaled heavily. "…he'll come."
Nearby, Aldreic wiped sweat from his face, unaware of the eyes approaching him.
A hand suddenly appeared before him.
Small.
Delicate.
He looked up.
Standing before him was the same thin girl from earlier.
Sharp eyes.
Messy dark hair tied carelessly behind her head.
There was something oddly confident about the way she carried herself.
She spoke first.
"Morgana."
Aldreic stared briefly.
A nice name.
Assuming she wanted a greeting, he reached forward.
Instead of taking his hand, she raised an eyebrow.
"What exactly are you doing?"
Aldreic blinked.
"…I thought—"
"I'm asking for my sword."
His eyes shifted downward.
She sighed.
"The sword I lent you."
Without waiting further, she stepped past him and began walking toward the camp.
But then She turned.
Morgana stood there, holding her sword against one shoulder.
At her feet sat a medium wooden supply crate.
She pointed at it casually.
"You."
Aldreic stared.
"…Me?"
"Yes, you."
She nudged the crate with her boot.
"Carry this."
Aldreic blinked.
There was a brief silence.
Then—
"…Why?"
Morgana raised an eyebrow.
"Because I lent you my sword."
Aldreic stared at her.
Fair enough.
Without another word, he bent down and lifted the crate.
It was heavier than expected.
Morgana had already begun walking ahead.
He followed beside her.
After several quiet seconds, he spoke.
"I thought mercenary companies only traveled with fighters."
She stopped.
Turned slowly.
Something had changed in her expression.
Aldreic noticed it immediately.
Her eyes narrowed.
Her jaw tightened slightly.
Her shoulders stiffened.
He stared at her face.
Something about it felt… sharp.
Unpleasant.
But he could not understand what exactly had changed.
Morgana crossed her arms.
"And what exactly do you know about mercenaries?"
Aldreic answered honestly.
"…Nothing."
She gave a small sarcastic nod.
"Then perhaps don't make assumptions about things you know nothing about."
Silence.
Aldreic studied her for a moment.
Then lowered his head slightly.
"…I apologize."
Her expression softened almost instantly.
"Well…" she smirked. "At least you know how to apologize to your elders."
Aldreic frowned.
"Elders?"
He glanced around absentmindedly.
Then his eyes slowly returned to her.
There was a long pause.
"…You cannot be serious."
Morgana narrowed her eyes.
"And why exactly can I not be serious?"
"How old are you?"
She straightened proudly.
"Nineteen."
Aldreic stared.
"…No."
Morgana's face twitched.
"No?"
"There is simply no way."
Now several nearby mercenaries had paused their work.
Watching.
Listening.
Waiting.
Morgana stepped closer.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Aldreic answered without hesitation.
"You look… rather small."
Pause.
"…And scrawny."
Silence.
Even the nearby mercenaries froze.
One man slowly turned his head away to hide a grin.
Morgana blinked twice.
Aldreic looked around.
"Why did everyone stop moving?"
Morgana pointed directly at him.
"That."
Aldreic frowned.
"What did I say?"
"The part where you called me scrawny."
"…But you are."
Her eye twitched.
Then after a long exhale, she shook her head.
"Well…"
She turned and resumed walking.
"You are one to talk."
Aldreic tilted his head.
"What does that mean?"
Without looking back, she answered casually.
"You are far too big for your age."
Aldreic stared at her back.
Before he could respond, her voice lowered into a mutter.
And he is disgustingly handsome… is he some secret noble or something?
Aldreic frowned.
"What did you say?"
She waved dismissively.
"I said the more I look at you, the more you give me the creeps."
Several moments later, they arrived beside one of the far supply wagons positioned away from the central camp.
Morgana pointed toward an empty space beside stacked barrels.
"Set it there."
Aldreic lowered the crate carefully.
She immediately turned away.
Then after a few steps—
without looking back—
"Try not to insult the next woman you meet."
Aldreic frowned.
"…I was insulting you?"
Morgana simply waved dismissively and continued walking.
Aldreic stood there alone.
Completely confused.
Inside the command tent, Wulfric remained staring at the map.
After several long seconds, he finally spoke.
"Hugo."
The vice captain looked up.
Wulfric's voice had become quieter now.
"Tell me I'm wrong."
Hugo already knew what he meant.
He stared silently at the map.
Then answered.
"No."
Wulfric slowly sat down.
"I heard they buried that project."
"So did I."
A long silence followed.
Wulfric rubbed both hands over his face.
"And somehow… by sheer rotten luck… we stumbled onto the one place no one was supposed to find him."
Hugo leaned against the table.
"We only found them because we fled Dunmere and needed supplies in Eryndor."
Wulfric let out a bitter laugh.
"And now?"
Hugo's expression darkened.
"Now we call it field testing."
Wulfric stared at him.
"You say that rather casually."
Hugo shrugged.
"He'll be useful."
Wulfric leaned back in his chair.
"And we also killed Nimue Del Fey…"
His fingers tapped against the wooden armrest.
"…and Gareth Whitehill."
He let out a tired exhale.
"Two great houses in Albionia."
He shook his head slowly.
"We went from pot to fire."
His gaze shifted upward toward the tent ceiling.
"Do you ever wonder if things will stop getting worse for us? Oh god"
Hugo finally sat opposite him.
His face looked far older now.
"Tch…"
Then quietly—
"Wulfric."
The captain looked over.
"Leave the worrying to me."
Wulfric frowned.
Hugo forced a tired smile.
"I'm scared too."
He leaned back heavily.
"This mission was bigger than us the day we accepted it."
Silence.
"If cracks start showing…" he continued quietly. "…the crew loses confidence."
Wulfric remained silent.
Hugo's voice dropped lower.
"And if Albionia comes asking questions…"
He paused.
"…tell them I killed Gareth and Nimue."
Wulfric's eyes narrowed.
"Hugo—"
"No."
He cut him off.
"If blades need pointing…"
His expression softened.
"…better they point at me."
A heavy silence filled the tent.
Then Hugo stood.
"And if I get caught…"
A small smile appeared.
"Split my share among the crew."
He began moving toward the entrance.
"I'd like to check on my daughter."
Almost immediately—
the tent flap shifted open.
Morgana stepped inside.
She glanced first at Hugo.
"Father."
Hugo smiled faintly.
"Morgana."
She stepped forward confidently and rested both hands on the edge of the war table, forcing herself into the center of the discussion.
Hugo studied her.
"So."
He crossed his arms.
"What's your read on the new boy?"
Morgana paused.
Her eyes drifted toward the tent entrance where Aldreic still stood outside.
"…I'll explain later."
Then her eyes returned toward both men.
Her expression sharpened.
"One question first."
She leaned slightly closer over the maps.
"Who exactly is Aldreic…"
A pause.
"…and can someone explain what exactly you two were talking about?"