When Rany saw me, he immediately raised an eyebrow.
"What's with that smile, kid? It looks like it's about to stretch from one side of your face to the other!"
I explained how I'd asked Azpen to train me after the campaign and how he had agreed to teach me for a week.
I even proudly showed Rany the knight's emblem.
Rany clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Kid, I already knew you were a troublemaker. Wherever you go, trouble follows. But now you've managed to get a knight to promise to train you? What kind of luck is that?"
He shook his head again, but his smile soon faded.
"Seriously, kid, this is a good opportunity. Don't waste it. Try to learn as much as you can from him. You might not get another chance like this."
His tone had become serious.
I understood what he meant.
An experienced knight like Azpen had plenty to teach me, and I had no intention of wasting the opportunity.
Meanwhile, inside Azpen's tent, the discussion had taken a different turn.
"Now that the reward has been settled, let's talk about last night's ambush," Azpen said.
His gaze shifted toward the mercenary officers seated on one side of the table.
Their expressions stiffened under his stare.
Their patrols had failed to notice the approaching enemy, and the scouts hadn't reported anything unusual before the lizardmen reached the camp.
Azpen looked at them with barely concealed anger.
The old man beside him cleared his throat.
"Azpen, I understand your anger. But staring at the mercenary officers won't solve the problem. We need to understand how the enemy slipped past our scouts and patrols, reached our camp, and launched an attack. They even managed to target one of our knights."
Azpen continued glaring at the officers for another moment before finally looking away.
As one of the officer about to speak.
"Don't give me excuses," he said sharply.
He brought his fist down on the table.
BANG!
The sound echoed throughout the tent.
Even the officers who had been trying to remain composed fell silent.
Azpen took a breath before speaking again.
"And it's not just the mercenary scouts and patrols. The Northern Knights' scouts were also assigned to reconnaissance. When I say the scouts failed, I'm talking about everyone involved—not just the mercenaries."
He turned toward the officers.
"So, what do you have to say for yourselves?"
The officers lowered their heads.
They had no immediate answer.
The old man sighed.
"Azpen, we can deal with responsibility and punishment later. Right now, we need to consider the consequences of this failure."
Azpen rubbed his forehead.
The old man continued.
"Our mercenaries have been fighting on the front lines, holding their positions even when the situation looked hopeless. Many have continued fighting with little rest because they believe their comrades are watching their backs."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in.
"But now, that trust has been broken. If the mercenaries begin to doubt the scouts and patrols, they won't feel safe even inside the camp. They'll have to remain alert throughout the day and night."
His expression grew grave.
"Think about what that means. They'll become exhausted, their concentration will deteriorate, and their fighting ability will suffer. We already have an enemy capable of ambushing us. We cannot afford to weaken ourselves further through fear and sleeplessness."
Azpen's expression darkened.
He understood the problem.
The lizardmen had done more than kill or injure a few men.
They had damaged the camp's sense of security.
One successful ambush could force hundreds of soldiers to spend the following nights wondering whether another attack was coming.
And that was precisely what the enemy wanted—or at least, what their actions had accomplished.
Azpen looked around the tent.
"Now, what do you suggest?"
The men exchanged glances.
Nobody immediately volunteered an answer.
Azpen's voice grew louder.
"Speak! We don't have the luxury of sitting here in silence."
Verken, the Northern Knight, finally spoke.
"I understand your concern. But what we need to do right now is identify how the enemy approached the camp and prevent another attack."
Azpen rubbed his temples and looked toward the old man.
The old man was studying the map spread across the table.
After a moment, he raised his head.
"We need to set a trap."
Everyone turned toward him.
"However, to set a trap, we need bait."
The words hung in the air.
The old man tapped a section of the map.
"Think about it. The enemy used a similar strategy to ours. They relied on scouts, watched our movements, and attacked when they found an opening. The difference is that their mages haven't been directly involved in these attacks."
He paused.
"Even though the lizardmen attacked us, I doubt they acted entirely on their own initiative. They must have received orders from someone with enough authority to coordinate their movements."
Azpen nodded slowly.
"The mages."
"Possibly," the old man replied. "We know their mages are capable of directing the others, but we still don't know whether a single surviving mage is commanding the remaining forces or whether they've regrouped and established a new chain of command."
He pointed at the map again.
"That uncertainty is the problem. If one mage is directing them, killing that mage could disrupt their plans. But if they've already reorganized, we could eliminate one target and still face another coordinated attack."
Azpen studied the map.
"So, how do we draw them out?"
"We give them a reason to attack us again."
The old man moved his finger to a location near the edge of the marked territory.
"We launch a controlled attack against the lizardmen we can locate. We kill as many as possible, but we make sure their bodies are left where the survivors can find them."
He looked around the tent.
"If the remaining lizardmen discover that we've attacked one of their groups, they may assume we've become careless or that our forces are spread too thin. They might decide to retaliate with another ambush."
"And that's when we strike," Azpen said.
"Exactly. We prepare for the ambush in advance. Our scouts watch the surrounding area, and our forces remain ready to respond. If the enemy comes for us, we'll have the opportunity to identify their positions and eliminate them."
The old man folded his arms.
"Of course, they'll have to believe that they have a genuine opportunity to attack. If we make our preparations too obvious, they'll simply avoid the trap."
Azpen stared at the map for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
"All right. We'll proceed carefully. But this time, I want every scouting party accounted for, and I want reports from every patrol. No more gaps in our information."
He looked around the tent, his expression hardening.
"We won't give them another easy opportunity."