In a forest, far from any human settlement, a massive fire blazed against the darkness, a beacon of light drawing people close.
Hundreds of carriages surrounded the fire in a rough circle, with people scattered around, each caught up in their own thoughts.
Hayden sat at the edge of the carriage formation, close enough to feel the warmth of the flames but far enough to avoid drawing attention.
It had been eight days since he left the Pendragon barony, and the atmosphere was growing tense. At first, he hadn't understood where he and the others were headed. But as they passed through town after town, the truth became clear.
The kingdom was at war. And they, the people, were nothing more than cannon fodder to pad the numbers on the front lines.
Shock and fear clouded Hayden's thoughts. His first taste of freedom had turned to bitter disappointment, as he realized he was marching straight into a slaughter. He'd even considered ending his life on the road—better that, he thought, than dying painfully on the battlefield. But just imagining the Pendragon barony celebrating his death threw that thought aside.
He would live. And he would return to have his revenge.
Now, he sat warming himself by the campfire, watching the officers who would lead him and the other conscripts to war. Over the last eight days, he'd been observing them closely. Two days ago, something had changed—the officers, once calm, had grown agitated. They'd started rushing the march, forcing everyone to cover more ground and allowing less time to rest.
Something's definitely wrong.
"These dirty soldiers are killing us!" a bald man muttered nearby, massaging his sore feet. "They push us to march, barely feed us… What do they expect us to do on the battlefield? Just die?" He swallowed the last bite of his black bread, his eyes shifting toward the full loaf sitting beside Hayden.
Sizing up Hayden's thin frame, the man smiled, showing brown teeth with bits of bread still stuck in them.
"Hey kid, hand over that bread. I'll keep you safe on the battlefield if you do." He grinned, his hand resting on the handle of his axe.
He's threatening me.
Hayden cursed himself. Lost in thought, he'd forgotten to eat his bread quickly—a mistake he'd already paid for on day two, when someone had beaten him up for his food. Once food's in your hands, eat it fast. He'd learned that lesson the hard way.
Sighing, he handed the loaf over. The bald man laughed and started devouring it.
A tent stood deep within the formation, surrounded by soldiers and a barricade. Inside, a group of officers sat around a small strategy table, tense and somber.
"Sir, we just received word," said an officer near the door. "The Keidrix army has crossed Lake Loughai. They're headed straight for Hanyous Pass."
The room fell silent as the weight of the news sank in.
Edward, their leader, looked at his officers, knowing what they all felt. He cursed silently. If not for that damn Pendragon…
Looking at the officer who had spoken, Edward asked, "What are their numbers?"
"Around eighty to ninety thousand, sir."
Damn it. The numbers didn't look good. The kingdom was under siege from all sides by four other kingdoms. On the southern front, where they were, the Keidrix forces had launched a massive assault on the border.
General Siegfried, a ten-thousand-man commander, had ordered Edward and his officers to gather conscripts from nearby towns. They'd been making progress—until a messenger from Pendragon had arrived, demanding they go to his territory for a "special conscript." They had lost precious time and now had fewer troops than expected.
"How many men do we have, and can we reach any more towns before we're too late?" Edward asked.
The officer hesitated, then answered, "We have three thousand, sir. And at this point… there are no more towns close enough."
A heavy silence filled the room.
With a weary sigh, Edward stood, feeling the weight of the situation settle over him. They were short on troops and time—a situation that would put him on bad terms with General Siegfried.
"We march back to the general in two hours," he said finally. "Relay my orders to everyone. No more breaks. We're going at full speed."
As he left the tent, Edward cursed the name of Pendragon. I won't forget this debt.
Walking through the camp, Edward spotted Hayden, being harassed by the bald man over a piece of bread.
There's the cause of my troubles, he thought, intending to ignore the scene. But an idea struck him, and he changed direction, heading toward the two.
The sight of a ranking officer approaching with his soldiers drew attention. People quickly stepped aside, parting to clear a path. Murmurs broke out as Edward stopped in front of Hayden.
Confused, Hayden looked up, noticing Edward's intense gaze.
Did I do something wrong?
"You. Follow me," Edward ordered, turning and walking deeper into the camp.
Left with no choice, Hayden got up and followed. They walked in silence until they reached a tent guarded by soldiers.
"You stay here," Edward told the guards, gesturing for Hayden to enter. Inside, Hayden saw a table and, lying across it, a sword with a black leather scabbard. The weapon resembled an elegant, double-edged blade—a jian.
"Take it," Edward said, gesturing at the sword.
"Huh?" Hayden asked, dumbfounded.
"Or do you plan to fight with your bare hands?" Edward reached for the sword, and Hayden snatched it up in a blur, hugging it close to his chest.
Edward chuckled, amused by the boy's reaction.
"Why are you helping me?" Hayden asked, suspicious. His life had taught him to question people's motives, especially if they seemed too helpful.
Edward sighed, pouring himself a cup of wine and savoring it in silence before answering. "If I'm being honest, I hate you. Or, rather, I hate the family behind you. They wasted my time, sending me off to pick up a sickly boy." His voice was cold, without a trace of warmth.
Hayden watched Edward, searching for clues to his intentions.
"But if you survive this battle," Edward continued, a smirk crossing his face, "then your family's plan will have failed, won't it?"
Realizing Edward's motivation, Hayden nodded.
"What's your name, sir?"
"You can call me Edward, boy," he replied, still smirking.
I'll repay this favor someday, Hayden thought as he left the tent, clutching the sword.