The soldier's gaze swept back and forth through the cave, when suddenly, a dim but compelling figure caught his eye.
It was a peculiar sensation. Though the man's clothing was plain and unremarkable, his entire form draped in a worn linen robe, and even as he stood concealed in the shadows of the cave's corner, he was still impossible to ignore.
It was as if he possessed some kind of magnetic presence, no matter how many people surrounded him, one's eyes would always be drawn to him first, even if the reason remained unclear.
This was no ordinary man.
At first glance, the returning soldier immediately made this assessment.
"You weren't here earlier, so allow me to introduce you. This is Garrett, yes, the very same legendary figure who's been making his mark across Middle-earth these past few years. Even those of us stationed at the front lines have heard of him. I'm certain you must have heard tales of him back in Gondor as well."
Kane introduced him to the returning soldier, while also making introductions in the other direction:
"And this is Tret, the man I mentioned to you before."
Hearing the conversation, Garrett finished what he was doing and approached.
"So this is the recruit who was captured?"
The returning soldier immediately saluted. "Well met, Legend of the North."
Garrett nodded, placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, and leaned in to say quietly, "Your captain has been deeply worried about you. He blames himself for what happened."
Tret froze, turning his gaze toward Kane.
At that moment, Kane stepped forward as well. He bowed his head in silence for a moment, then looked at his returned soldier and said:
"I'm truly sorry. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so harsh with you that day. For a new recruit, the fact that you chose to come here of your own accord already demonstrated your courage."
"As captain, what I should have offered more of was guidance and leadership, not merely punishment."
Tret's lips parted slightly, momentarily speechless. He had never expected his once-stern captain to humble himself and apologize so earnestly.
For a brief moment, something in his heart wavered. But only for a moment.
"No, Captain, you weren't in the wrong."
"It's I who should apologize to you."
He lowered his head.
Kane said nothing more.
"It's good that you've come back," Garrett said, taking out a bottle of healing potion and offering it to Tret. "You don't look well. Drink this, it's my own brewing, it'll help you recover."
"Take it. Many in our company have been healed by these potions," Kane added, noticing Tret's hesitation.
"If your memory serves, you shouldn't have forgotten that one of his titles is 'Master Alchemist.'"
"I understand. My thanks."
Tret accepted the potion and drained it in one gulp.
It tasted faintly sweet, like watermelon.
As the potion flowed into his stomach, the wounds left by the Haradrim's torture healed almost instantly. Not only that, but even his body's exhaustion was considerably restored.
A miraculous elixir!
He stared at Garrett, his eyes flashing with excitement.
If such alchemical skill could be employed for Harad's benefit, it would surely transform their army.
Once he returned, he would have to report this man in detail, they couldn't allow him to slip away...
As for whether Garrett could be taken by force, well, no matter how legendary or fantastical the stories about him were, he was still just one man. Not even a single attendant accompanied him.
Could he alone possibly stand against the might of Harad's thousands?
The brief reunion soon came to an end.
Night fell. The outpost grew quiet, with only the occasional cries of unknown creatures echoing from outside.
That night, all the Rangers in the outpost slept peacefully. No one was awakened by pain anymore.
When the soldier on duty during the first watch returned, someone immediately stood up and said, "Allow me to take the next watch."
"Tret, what you should be doing is resting properly."
"Forgive me, I simply can't sleep."
The guard replied, "Even so, it's not possible. The roster for watch duty has already been arranged, and I cannot change it on my own authority."
Tret's expression darkened.
"Do you not trust me? Do you think I'm incapable of such a task?"
"Of course I trust you. It's simply that this isn't something we can change spontaneously. How about this, if you still can't sleep tomorrow, I'll help you petition the captain to adjust your watch schedule."
"...Very well, I understand."
Tret lowered his head and didn't argue further.
The guard didn't waste more time, and turned to head deeper into the cave, planning to wake the next comrade on the roster.
Just as he turned away, Tret glanced around, then suddenly stepped forward. Without a sound, he raised his sword, reversed it, and drove the pommel hard into his comrade's skull.
Thud!
The strike was swift and precise. The guard collapsed unconscious, and Tret quickly caught him, lowering him gently to the ground.
After ensuring no one had witnessed anything, and that the noise had been minimal, he seized a rope and hurriedly climbed upward.
"Tret? Why is it you?"
The moment he reached the surface, a voice came from behind.
Tret's body went rigid. He turned his head and saw another Ranger concealed in a hidden position.
"I don't recall your name being on tonight's duty roster."
"I couldn't sleep, so I exchanged with the one on watch."
"I see."
"Which sector are you covering?" Tret asked, his hand beneath his dark-green cloak already resting on his sword hilt.
Ah, nearly forgot.
Normally, guards always worked in pairs, covering each other. He didn't know if that protocol had changed during the month of his absence.
"North sector," the Ranger replied.
Tret's heart leaped with relief.
"Very well, then I'll take the south sector."
"May the White Tree watch over you."
"And you as well."
The two parted ways, each heading toward their assigned concealed posts, turning their backs in trust.
Thump-thump.
Tret's heart raced. With his comrade fully convinced and focused on the northern perimeter, he quietly rose from his position and slipped away southward without a sound.
He walked further and further, completely undetected.
He knew his comrades' habits far too well.
But there was still one outsider present. And this one never required sleep.
From a tree by the lakeside, a gaze followed him, watching clearly as Tret's figure left the outpost and vanished into the night.
That direction, if memory served, it led to the ferry crossing on the Harnen River.
Garrett chuckled softly to himself, then tilted his head back, gazing at the stars through the gaps in the leaves.
Kane, oh Kane... all your heartfelt concern has been wasted.
He's a traitor.
After a while, he dropped down from the tree, drew his sword, and was about to set off in pursuit when suddenly an arm blocked his path.
"Hmm?"
Turning his head, Garrett saw the man was none other than Kane.
"So, you knew all along."
"I'm no fool."
Kane shook his head, his gaze heavy with complex emotions.