"They're demons! Run for your lives!"
"We've stumbled into a nest of fiends!"
The Hill-men broke into chaos. Some fled so frantically that their shoes were left behind, bare feet pounding the dirt as terror drove them mad. Their chieftain, Savar, blanched as the firelight surged toward him. His knees buckled; he took half a step back—just as an arrow hissed through the air and buried itself in the back of his skull.
His final sight was the stampede of torch-bearing feet trampling over his body, thundering onward to cut down the rest of his doomed tribesmen.
….
[System Prompt]
Enemies slain: Hill-men ×5, Hill-man Chieftain ×1
Experience gained: 20
Current EXP: 20/200
….
When dawn split the sky, the plain lay strewn with corpses—forty or fifty Hill-men cut down like stalks in harvest. Ryan's side had scarcely a scratch to show for it. Only two young laborers had twisted their ankles in the charge, hobbling now on makeshift crutches, grimacing and laughing at their own folly.
The battle itself Ryan never mentioned again. But for the men who had lived it, the night was fire in their veins. As they hauled stones and cut timber through the day, their voices rang with wild boasting.
"I swear on my life—Ryan himself loosed the arrow that dropped their chief! Passed right over my head, stuck clean through the dog's neck!"
"Elger's blade! Ha! Three of them swarmed him, but they couldn't touch him—arms and legs were flying before long!"
"And me—I wasn't useless! One of the curs tripped, and I cracked him on the skull with a stone! Down he went like a sack of meal!"
"Bah! These Hill-men are nothing but straw. With Ryan leading us, we'll never be beaten!"
"Easy for you to say—I came here to lay bricks, not to swing swords!"
"And what of it? Once I've earned enough, I'll join the Lord's army proper. When the charge sounds, I'll be the first in line!"
Their laughter and camaraderie filled the camp, turning toil into triumph.
….
Within Ryan's tent, candlelight flickered. He sat at his table, pen scratching across parchment, line upon line of rules for the army he was forging. Ailin slipped inside, setting a steaming cup of tea at his elbow.
"My lord," she said softly, "they're all speaking of you outside."
"Speaking what?" he asked without lifting his eyes, his pen still flowing.
"That you are the bravest of men. That you led four hundred simple folk to rout those savage Hill-men as if it were nothing." Her tone was tender, reverent.
Ryan paused, setting down the quill. He shook his head. "Bravery? Hardly. I only ran with them as any soldier would. The true weapon was the four hundred torches raised together. That broke their courage. Without it, we would not have prevailed."
It was truth. The enemy had been no more than a rabble of a hundred, weary from their march, blundering into a blazing tide of four hundred men. Panic had undone them before blades even struck.
But Ailin's gaze lingered on him, her voice low. "You belittle what you've done. Yet whether you see it or not, these deeds are raising a great hall within every heart….a hall where only your name is carved."
Her eyes shone with unspoken warmth, as if the first green shoots of spring pressed through the soil, unable to hide. Ryan felt his chest soften, words rising unbidden—
The tent-flap burst open.
"Elger!?" Ryan blinked as the Ranger stormed in, grinning from ear to ear, excitement blazing.
"My lord! Quick! Outside, they've brought the new recruits!"
The spell broke, the moment shattered like glass underfoot. Ailin spun, cheeks flushed, her eyes flashing daggers at Elger. Before he could so much as grin, she marched over and drove her fist into his gut.
"Urghh!" Elger doubled over, clutching his stomach, his face a picture of agony.
He wheezed, "What—what was that for?"
"You never heard of knocking? You frightened me half to death!" she shot back, voice laced with a poorly hidden tremor. Then she swept out in a whirl of skirts, leaving Elger dumbfounded.
Ryan couldn't help but laugh, though he quickly schooled his features into mock solemnity when Elger looked at him in bewilderment.
"My lord… I didn't frighten you, did I?"
"You did," Ryan replied gravely.
Elger's mouth fell open. "Then—then… do you want to hit me too?"
"No."
"Thank you, my lord! You're far kinder than Ailin!" His grin returned in full force. Then, as if only just remembering, he smacked his forehead. "Ah! The recruits! They've brought five hundred, and all of them tall as pines!"
"You should have led with that," Ryan said sharply, rising at once and striding out.
….
At the camp's edge, five hundred youths stood in ordered ranks. Broad-shouldered, long-limbed, every one of them towered over the crowd, their bearing proud and strong. Around them gathered craftsmen and laborers, murmuring in awe.
When Ryan emerged with Elger and Ailin, Idhrion and Erken strode forward, saluting.
"My lord!" Idhrion boomed. "These are the men we've gathered. Every one of them over six feet, strong enough to lift a millstone, born of honest farms and clean of stain!"
Erken added eagerly, "We searched a dozen villages. These lads are fresh as yearlings, strong as oxen, and obedient besides. With training, they'll be steel!"
"Well done." Ryan's smile broke through, his eyes gleaming as he looked upon the rows of recruits. Then he turned to the Rangers at his side—Idhrion, Erken, and the five who had gone with them.
"You have fulfilled my trust. When Alaina and Arion return, I will see to it that you all receive your reward."
"Thank you, my lord!" Everyone cried as one, dropping to one knee, their voices ringing with devotion.