Whoosh!
The night wind howled fiercely, slicing through the air and stirring the surface of the Whispering River into restless ripples. The water shimmered faintly under the pale moonlight, its gentle lapping sounds mingling with the crackling of a bonfire blazing on the riverbank. The firewood snapped and popped, sending occasional sparks spiraling into the chilly night sky, where they flickered briefly before fading into the darkness.
It was around eleven o'clock at night, and Lucas, accompanied by Mina and the War Wolf Squad, had set up camp by the Whispering River for a late-night barbecue. Earlier that day, Lucas had overseen the training drills of the Elf Squad, ensuring their precision and discipline were up to his exacting standards. Afterward, he had led his group to the riverbank to scout a suitable location for constructing a floating bridge—an ambitious project that had been occupying his thoughts for days.
The site for the floating bridge had already been chosen, just upstream from the dockyard. There, the river curved sharply, creating a natural bend where the water's flow slowed considerably. The calmer current made it an ideal spot for anchoring a floating bridge, as the reduced force of the water would lessen the strain on the structure. Lucas had surveyed the area meticulously, noting the depth of the riverbed and the stability of the banks, confident that this location would serve their purpose perfectly.
"Young Master, you really should eat something," Mina called out, her voice laced with concern. She stood by the barbecue grill, deftly flipping a sizzling pheasant skewered over the flames. Her striking blue eyes, glinting in the firelight, darted toward Lucas, who sat on the opposite side of the bonfire, engrossed in his work.
Lucas was hunched over a notebook, scribbling furiously. A thick, leather-bound book lay open beside him, its pages worn from frequent use. Every so often, he'd pause to consult the book, cross-reference some detail, and then resume sketching or jotting down calculations on a sheet of paper. The flickering glow of the fire cast long shadows across his focused expression, highlighting the furrow in his brow.
"I'm almost done. You go ahead and eat," Lucas replied without looking up, his voice calm but distracted. His pen moved swiftly across the paper as he calculated the logistics of the floating bridge. This wasn't just a casual project—it was a critical infrastructure endeavor, and he was determined to get every detail right.
A floating bridge, as Lucas envisioned it, was a marvel of engineering: a bridge supported not by traditional stone piers but by boats or floating pontoons secured to the riverbed. To make it work, he needed to account for a multitude of variables. The river's flow rate was paramount—too strong a current, especially during the rainy season, could sweep the bridge away. He had to calculate how many boats would be required to serve as pontoons, how much weight they could collectively support, and how many people could safely cross at once. Durability was another concern; the bridge needed to withstand constant exposure to water and weather while maintaining structural integrity for as long as possible.
These calculations were Lucas's burden alone. In this era, no one else in the region had the knowledge or expertise to design a floating bridge. He was a pioneer in this field, the first to attempt such a feat in these lands. If he succeeded, the bridge would not only serve as a practical crossing but also pave the way for future projects, allowing his team to gain invaluable experience. More importantly, the floating bridge was a stepping stone toward a grander ambition: constructing a permanent stone bridge with cement piers across the Whispering River. Such a project would require workers to operate directly on the water, a task made feasible only with a floating bridge in place as a temporary platform.
"The number of boats can't be too few," Lucas muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "Small boats might work, but no—medium-sized vessels would provide stronger buoyancy." He scratched out a line on his paper, rethinking his approach. "We'll also need heavy-duty steel cables to secure the boats together. The anchor points on the shore must be reinforced with sturdy, immovable bases to keep the bridge from being swept away by the current."
His mind raced as he considered the logistics. "We could start building the boats now, but purchasing some would be faster. If we time it right, we could have them ready by spring, when the river is navigable again." He paused, frowning. "But that means cutting the budget for sheep gold coins by twenty percent. No, wait, military rations would also need to be reduced by twenty percent… or maybe not. Once the fleet returns in the spring, the budget for mutton will balance out…"
Lucas's voice trailed off as he scribbled, his thoughts a whirlwind of numbers and contingencies. His hand moved with practiced precision, filling page after page with detailed plans for the bridge's construction. By the time he was satisfied, the blueprint was nearly complete—only a few gaps remained, which he could refine back at the castle. With a final flourish, he set down his pen and leaned back.
"Phew… done," He announced, stretching his stiff back. He rubbed his aching wrist, closed the notebook and book, and let out a satisfied sigh.
"Young Master, you could finish that tomorrow," Mina said gently, hurrying over to help him tidy up. She carefully packed the papers and pen into a metal box, then scrambled the combination lock with a quick flick of her fingers.
"Let's just say I'm here to enjoy the moonlight," Lucas said with a faint smile. He pulled his heavy coat tighter around himself and tilted his head back to gaze at the crescent moon hanging in the starry sky. Its silvery light cast a serene glow over the river, a stark contrast to the frenetic pace of his thoughts.
"Here, Young Master, have some hot tea," Mina said, handing him a steaming mug. She also passed him a piece of roasted pheasant, its savory aroma making his stomach rumble.
"Thanks," Lucas said, taking a sip of the tea and biting into the tender meat. The pheasant was a leftover from their earlier dinner, but it still tasted rich and flavorful, warmed by the fire. Tonight wasn't just about the bridge plans, though. Lucas had another task in mind: a surprise inspection of the military camp. He wanted to assess the soldiers' readiness, particularly their ability to maintain combat effectiveness at night. In the dead of winter, with the cold biting at their resolve, he needed to ensure they remained vigilant and prepared.
"Eat up, everyone," Lucas called out to Mina and the War Wolf Squad, his voice carrying over the crackling fire. "We've got work to do after this."
"Work?" Mina's cat-like ears twitched as she tilted her head, her eyes glancing toward the night sky. It was well past eleven, a time when most people were already tucked into bed, fast asleep.
"A camp inspection," Lucas explained, his tone measured. "We're doing a surprise check tonight to see how well they're training."
The idea had come to him spontaneously, sparked by the earlier observation of the Elf Squad's drills. It wasn't a meticulously planned operation, but rather a gut instinct to test his troops' discipline under pressure.
"Yes, my lord!" The War Wolf Squad responded in unison, their voices sharp and eager. They were no strangers to Lucas's surprise inspections, having been roused from sleep more than once by his orders. The routine was familiar: at the first sound of an alarm, they'd scramble to don their gear, grab their weapons, and rush into formation.
"Young Master, should we prepare anything?" Mina asked, her tone professional but tinged with excitement. She'd accompanied Lucas on these inspections before and knew the drill well.
"Just bring a gong," Lucas said with a light chuckle, taking another bite of the pheasant. "That'll do."
"Got it," Mina replied, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. She loved the chaos of a surprise inspection, the thrill of catching the soldiers off guard.
Half an hour later, their bellies full and spirits high, Lucas and his team set off toward the military camp east of Sedona City. The night air was crisp, and their boots crunched softly against the frost-dusted ground as they approached the camp's perimeter.
"Who goes there?" A voice barked from the shadows before they'd even reached the camp's boundary. In the dim moonlight, Lucas could make out seven or eight figures lurking in the darkness, their forms barely distinguishable.
"Come out," Lucas commanded, his dark eyes scanning the area sharply. "It's me."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the shadows, and several soldiers stepped forward, their military knives glinting faintly as they emerged. These were the camp's sentries—veterans, by the look of them, their movements disciplined and alert.
"Greetings, Lord Commander!" The lead soldier said, snapping to attention. The group saluted in unison, their postures rigid with respect.
"Dark sentries, well done," Lucas said, nodding approvingly. They were positioned a good distance from the camp, far enough to spot intruders well in advance. Their vigilance was commendable, especially on such a cold night.
The sentries saluted again, their movements crisp.
"I'm here to inspect the camp tonight," Lucas said, waving them back to their posts. "Carry on with your duties."
"Yes, my lord!" The sentries replied, their voices low but firm. Lucas caught a glint of amusement in their eyes—they'd endured their share of surprise inspections and knew the chaos about to unfold for their comrades.
Lucas's group passed through two more checkpoints, each as alert as the first, before reaching the heart of the camp. Turning to Mina, Lucas said, "Mina, sound the gong and start the timer."
"Yes, my lord!" Mina replied, her voice brimming with determination. She gripped a small wooden mallet and struck the gong with force, the sharp, piercing clang reverberating through the silent camp.
Clang! Clang!
The shrill sound shattered the stillness, and the camp erupted into chaos. Shouts and footsteps echoed as soldiers scrambled from their tents, the night suddenly alive with frantic activity. The first objective of the inspection was an emergency assembly, and Lucas stood calmly, his eyes fixed on the scene. He was timing them—measuring how quickly the fastest could assemble and how long it took the slowest to fall into line.
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