Chapter 3: The Dawn of a New Army
The summer heat was unforgiving, baking the earth and drying up the last of the crops, but it wasn't the sun that brought sweat to my brow—it was the responsibility. Two months had passed since I put my plan into motion, and the echoes of hammers against wood, the clatter of swords in training, and the barks of orders filled the once-quiet grounds of my manor.
The beginning had been slow. As a baron, I lacked both the authority and the resources of a noble with an actual standing army. My manor was guarded by a handful of retainers—barely enough to defend the estate, much less protect witches or assert my power in the kingdom.
But necessity breeds innovation, and so I had started small. The promise of food—three full meals a day—was enough to catch the attention of the hungry peasants who labored for little reward. I spread word across my lands that any man who showed up for training would be fed. For those who stayed and proved their worth, a silver coin each month would secure them a position in my army.
What I lacked in numbers, I made up for in persistence. My pharmacy background may not have trained me in combat, but I had discipline, and that discipline quickly spread to the recruits. With no capable instructor to oversee the training, I led it myself, pushing them through drills and teaching them the basics of swordsmanship, archery, and tactics.
As the weeks passed, the ragged group of farmers, blacksmiths, and tradesmen started to take shape. Where they had once been unorganized and unsure, they now stood tall, their movements sharp, their eyes focused. I wasn't training an army; I was molding them into something far greater—a force capable of defending not just my lands, but the witches who would soon be drawn to my protection.
By the end of summer, I had fifty capable men at my command. Fifty men may have been small compared to the armies of larger lords and dukes, but to me, they represented the beginning of something powerful.
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The Golden Opportunity
Money, of course, was still an issue. Feeding an army—even a small one—didn't come cheap, and silver coins didn't rain from the sky. But where others might have struggled, I had an edge: my antibiotic.
Word of the stable boy's recovery had spread quickly, and before long, the local nobility began requesting my services. Wounds that would have festered and killed were now being treated with my mysterious remedy. I had to keep the formula and the process a secret, for no one here could understand how something like penicillin worked. To them, I was a miracle worker.
And so I sold my antibiotics for gold, exchanging each vial of cloudy liquid for enough money to keep my army fed, my plans moving forward, and my ambitions alive.
Summer passed in a blur of training and transactions, and by the time the heat began to fade, I was ready for the next step. I knew the witches were out there, hiding from the Church, living in fear of discovery. I needed to find them, bring them into my fold, and offer them something they'd never had before: protection.
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The Witch's Awakening
One day, as the cool winds of autumn finally began to creep across the land, a messenger came running to the manor with news that would change everything.
"My lord," the guard panted, his breath coming in quick bursts, "a witch has been born in the village. She awakened this morning."
My pulse quickened. A witch. A new witch. In my own territory.
"Bring her to me," I ordered immediately. "Ensure no harm comes to her."
The guard nodded and hurried off, while I paced the room. This was the moment I had been waiting for. While I had planned to search for the Witch Cooperation Association and gather the witches Roland would eventually ally with, I hadn't expected one to be born right under my nose.
Within the hour, the guards returned with a young girl. She couldn't have been more than fifteen years old, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. Her clothes were simple—a peasant girl from the village. But there was something else about her now, a kind of nervous energy that hung around her, as if the air itself was vibrating.
I motioned for the guards to leave us alone, and they reluctantly backed out of the room. I knelt down to her level, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.
"What's your name?" I asked softly.
"L-Lyra," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please, my lord, I didn't mean to—"
"You didn't do anything wrong," I assured her. "You're not in danger here. I'm not like the others who fear witches. I want to help you."
Her eyes, still brimming with uncertainty, flickered with a glimmer of hope. "You… don't want to kill me?"
"No," I said firmly. "You're special. I want to know more about your power. Tell me what happened."
Lyra swallowed nervously, glancing down at her hands. "It… it was this morning. I was in the fields, tending to the crops with my father. But something… strange happened. The earth—" she hesitated, as if struggling to find the words. "It listened to me."
I frowned, intrigued. "The earth listened to you?"
She nodded. "I… I don't know how to explain it, but I felt a connection to the ground, to the soil. When I thought about moving it, it moved. When I thought about the plants growing, they grew—faster than I'd ever seen."
My heart raced as I considered the implications. Lyra didn't possess the powers of fire or wind like Anna or Wendy. Her ability was far more elemental, more primal. It was as if she could communicate with the earth itself—geomancy, perhaps. An ability to control the land, to shape it, to make it respond to her will.
It was a power unlike any I had read about in Release That Witch. Roland had no witches who could command the very ground they stood on. This was something new. Something powerful.
And if I could harness that power, if I could help Lyra understand and control it, she would become a cornerstone of my plans—both for protecting the witches and for shaping the future of my kingdom.
I smiled at her gently, standing up and extending my hand.
"You don't need to be afraid anymore, Lyra. You're safe here. I will teach you to control your power, and together, we'll ensure no one can harm you. Will you trust me?"
For a moment, she hesitated, but then, with a shaky breath, she placed her small hand in mine.
And just like that, my plans began to take root, as deep as the earth itself.