The sun barely pierced the heavy mist that clung to the Eastern District.
It was a morning of uncertain silence — the kind that settled before storms.
Riven stood at the balcony of the old Red Blades' warehouse, his new headquarters.
Below, his people — craftsmen, healers, mercenaries, and refugees — worked to strengthen defenses.
Palisades were being erected.
Weapons were being distributed.
Supply lines were being organized.
It wasn't an army yet.
But it was the start of one.
And it would need to grow — fast.
---
> [Synchronization: 58%...]
> [New Objective: Fortify the Eastern District.]
Progress: 12%
---
Eron approached, carrying a pile of parchment.
"Reports," he said.
Riven took the documents, scanning them quickly.
Supply shortages.
New refugees at the south gate.
Sightings of Garrick's forces in the neighboring sectors.
Each line painted the same picture:
The Eastern District was vulnerable.
And the vultures were circling.
Riven folded the papers neatly and handed them back.
"Prepare a recruitment drive," he said. "We need fighters. And fast."
"And money?" Eron asked.
Riven smiled thinly.
"We'll find a way."
---
By midday, Riven held his first official council.
In the warehouse's main hall, crude banners hung from broken beams.
Several figures stood around the rough table.
Eron Darrin — his right hand.
Mira Vance — a healer who had rallied civilians to Riven's cause.
Tobin Graves — a former Red Blade who had bent the knee after Craven's death.
They weren't much yet.
But they were loyal.
And loyalty mattered more than numbers.
---
Riven placed a crude map of the city onto the table.
"The eastern wall is stable," he began.
"The market square is secured. The alleys around the Broken Lantern are under our patrol."
He tapped sections marked in red.
"But Garrick controls the Iron Yard, the Docks, and most of Southbridge."
Tobin grimaced.
"Garrick's gathering the broken gangs," he said. "Old Red Blades, street thugs, even ex-mercs. Promising them revenge... and blood."
Riven nodded.
"He won't wait long. He knows we're still building strength."
Mira spoke, her voice quiet but firm.
"Many civilians want peace. But they're afraid. They need a symbol."
"They have one," Riven said simply.
He looked around the table.
"I'm not here to be another gang lord. We're building something better.
But first, we have to survive."
---
They set to work.
Mira organized healers into triage teams.
Tobin trained new recruits in basic combat.
Eron managed supply lines, negotiating with cautious merchants and smugglers.
And Riven planned.
---
> [New Skill Progress: Leadership Tactics Lv.1 - 95%]
---
That evening, a messenger arrived — bruised and bloody.
He collapsed before Riven's throne.
"A gift... from Garrick," he gasped.
From his cloak, he produced a severed hand.
It bore the mark of the Eastern District — one of Riven's new patrol captains.
The hall fell silent.
Riven stared at the grisly trophy, then rose slowly.
A storm gathered in his silver eyes.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Only cold, burning purpose.
---
He addressed the hall.
"Garrick wants war," he said.
"Fine."
"We'll give him one."
---
Preparations began immediately.
Barricades reinforced.
Watchtowers manned around the clock.
Munitions stockpiled.
The Eastern District became a hive of activity.
Blacksmiths worked through the night, forging weapons from scrap.
Children carried messages.
Old veterans taught the young how to hold a sword.
It wasn't a perfect army.
But it was theirs.
And it would be enough.
---
At midnight, another visitor arrived.
This time, it was the woman from the Serpent Order.
She stepped from the mist, her green eyes gleaming.
"You move quickly," she said approvingly.
"I don't have time to waste," Riven replied.
She tossed him a scroll.
"Information. Garrick's supply routes. His recruitment centers. His weaknesses."
Riven caught the scroll without breaking eye contact.
"And in return?"
She smiled thinly.
"A favor. Later."
He nodded.
He would deal with that later.
For now — war.
---
The next day, Riven launched his first strike.
A surgical raid on one of Garrick's supply depots.
Fifty fighters moved under cover of darkness, guided by maps from the Serpent Order.
They struck fast and hard.
Within minutes, the depot burned.
Supplies were seized. Garrick's men scattered.
---
> [Quest Update: Disrupt Garrick's Resources - 1/5 Completed.]
> [Synchronization: 60%...]
---
Momentum.
It was a powerful thing.
And Riven intended to keep it.
---
The people of the Eastern District began to believe.
Not just in survival.
In victory.
They whispered Riven's name with reverence — and fear.
Stories spread:
> "The Archer King rides with the mist."
> "His enemies vanish like smoke."
> "He cannot be killed."
---
But Garrick was not idle.
From the western docks came new reports.
Hundreds of mercenaries arriving by ship.
Weapons shipments smuggled through secret tunnels.
Garrick was preparing for all-out war.
And he had allies.
Not just petty criminals — but minor nobles who saw Riven as a threat to the old order.
Riven studied the reports in silence.
The noose tightened on all sides.
Good.
He would cut it.
---
Three nights later, Garrick made his move.
A massive force — nearly three hundred strong — marched on the Eastern District.
Torches lit the night like rivers of fire.
War drums pounded a brutal rhythm.
Civilians fled or barricaded themselves inside their homes.
Riven stood atop the old watchtower, surveying the enemy.
He felt no fear.
Only anticipation.
---
> [Battle Event Detected: Defend the Eastern District!]
---
He turned to his lieutenants.
"This is our home," he said.
"We don't run."
"We don't beg."
"We stand."
Cheers rose around him.
Men and women, armed with whatever they could hold — swords, spears, sharpened farming tools — gathered under his banner.
Riven drew his dagger.
It gleamed under the moonlight.
He lifted it high.
"For the Eastern District!" he roared.
"For freedom!"
"For the future!"
The crowd roared back.
---
And as Garrick's army crashed against the barricades like a black tide,
Riven led the charge.
Fast as a shadow.
Precise as a blade.
Unstoppable.
---
The battle had begun.
And by dawn, the Eastern District would either rise — or fall.
But Riven Valen would not bow.
Not now.
Not ever.
---
> [Synchronization: 63%...]