A day later.
As I stood on a dirt field in front of the Vindia barracks, amid gentle snowfall, the sight before me brought nothing but frustration.
A line of forty men-at-arms in shabby leather gambeson armor, armed with spears, pikes, and halberds, stood alongside a hundred levies wielding farming tools such as pitchforks, farm flails, and scythes. All of them were gathered on a patch of dirt in a loose, chaotic formation.
Behind them were twentyone mule and ox-drawn wagons loaded with additional supplies and equipment, temporarily "reappropriated" from merchants who had originally intended to deliver fertilizer to my fiefdom. This would undoubtedly cause consequences in the future, but for now, I needed wagons more than goodwill. Without them, we would all be dead.
"Sir, this is all we could muster," John said in a serious tone. "Other than that, we could call up the city guards as well."
"This is enough," I replied just as firmly. "If the city is left without its full guard force, then it becomes lawless and defenseless."
"Understood, sire. But what about sending a call for help to other nobles nearby? Some barons or even a marquis might answer."
"Amid winter snow, within thirty-one days?" I shook my head. "We can try, but I'm not optimistic."
"I thought as much. We would also need to send one of my knights as a messenger for the call to be credible. In this weather, should we send them out?"
"No," I answered immediately. "We need every knight here to drill the troops. None can be spared."
"Affirmative, Sire," he replied, bowing.
I turned my gaze back to the ragtag band before me, men-at-arms mixed with peasants and beggars.
Then I raised my newest invention to my mouth, a conical bronze instrument, a non-electric megaphone.
"ATTENTION!!!"
My amplified voice crashed across the field, snapping every head toward me.
They stared in confusion.
"SIT! DOWN!!!"
They sat.
"Do you know why you have been called here?"
Most shook their heads. A few nodded. Seeing that, I continued, pouring my voice through the megaphone.
"Farville village has been attacked by a beastmen tribe! Snow leopard freaks looted and burned our homes! They killed women, children, even pets! And they had the audacity to demand more food and wealth, as if we were helpless fools who couldn't fight back!"
Every eye locked onto me.
"If someone walked into your home and demanded your wife, your children, or your hard-earned food, would you let them take it without a fight? Would you kneel like a coward and lose everything, or would you stand and fight alongside your comrades?!"
Silence followed.
Then a young man stood up.
"By the Divine! NO!" he shouted.
Stahl, the young man who had lost everything, now armed with a battered pitchfork and wearing a simple wool scarf, roared with the fury of a man who had nothing left to lose.
Others followed.
"No!" "No!!" "NO!!!"
The field erupted with shouts.
I smiled and continued.
"In thirty-one days, they will return. And by then, I will train you to fight like soldiers. I will fight on foot alongside you! I will not hide behind walls!"
I drew my family heirloom ornate silver short sword and raised it high.
The troops roared.
When the cheers finally died down, I spoke again, my smile calculated and cold.
"Now, let the training begin."
---
Day 1–7 of Training
I organized them into fourteen groups, each led by four men-at-arms commanding ten levies. These groups were assigned to myself, John, or the knights for drilling.
Most importantly, each group was assigned a wagon. Fourteen wagons for the squads, with seven kept in reserve for logistics.
Then the hell of training began.
Running. Jumping. Squats. Sit-ups. Forming lines. Digging trenches. Mock battles. Over and over, relentlessly.
In contrast, I ensured they were well-fed. Eggs, bread, vegetables, fruit, everything they needed. Every midday meal, I sat among them in the mess hall, speaking of why they fought, to protect themselves, their homes, their families, their loved ones.
Morale rose quickly.
That was the first week.
---
Day 8–14 of Training
With the basics ingrained, I moved on to real tactics.
"Seize the defensive position!"
"Form a spear line!"
"Reinforce this flank!"
"Dig a trench!"
"Get on the wagon!"
Orders they had to follow instantly and without hesitation.
They became organized. Cohesive. A unit.
I emphasized one rule above all others: never panic. never chase glory to the foolish extend. Act on initiative when chaos demanded it, but never break formation, never rout.
Families were allowed to watch training. Cheers reminded the men what they were protecting.
For those without families, I promised advancement to become men-at-arms, guards, even knighthood and land if the situation allows. Purpose gave them strength.
---
Day 15–21 of Training
Now came the true crucible.
Endless drilling of battlefield tactics.
Where to dig trenches for ambush attack.
Where to place pavise shields to fill the gap.
How to barricade windows and doorways.
How to deploy caltrops and palisades.
How to fight while receiving commands.
How to endure chaos of the battlefield.
And most importantly, "How to not die."
---
Day 22–28 of Training
I drilled them again and again until instinct replaced thought.
Logistics were secured. Food and water stockpiled. Farming tools replaced with iron polearms where possible. Red cloth strips were issued to be worn across the shoulder and hip for ally recognition amid heavy snow and chaos.
There was not enough time to turn the iron and coal beneath our land into armor, but polearms would suffice for now.
On the twenty-eighth day, we marched out from the city.
Flowers were thrown.
Women cheered.
Parents gave their son a blessings.
Even the priestess came forth, declaring a classic, "You fight for a righteous cause!".
Morale soared again, obviously.
We marched toward the desolated village of Farville.
---
The final three days were spent fortifying the village and finalizing tactics.
Now, there was nothing left to do but wait.
"May the Divine bless us all," I murmured, praying to a god I did not yet truly believe in.
But for my men, for even the smallest chance of survival, I was willing to believe.
Even if only for today.