The day was coming to an end, and Robert had suffered enough at the hands of Sabas and his so-called personal training. He was getting ready to enter the barracks to confront him, but before he could, he noticed an older woman cleaning and polishing the weapons on the rack. On closer inspection, he recognized her—Elizabeth, Lord Hammond's late wife.
Robert approached her slowly, careful not to startle her.
"I can see you there," she said without turning. "What could I possibly have to say to my husband's murderer?"
Robert sighed, not expecting her hostility to hit so hard right away. "You know it wasn't my choice for things to go that way. His arrogance forced my hand."
Elizabeth stood up, throwing her hands in the air. "Not your choice? You sent your men to cause a rebellion, to destroy my peace!" Her voice shook with anger as she spat at his face, storming away.
Robert wiped his face, fighting the urge to lash out. He controlled his temper and continued toward the barracks. Inside, he could hear the soldiers laughing and bonding. Though he hadn't interacted with them much recently, their loyalty remained steadfast. He noticed that many had leveled up significantly, with most on the verge of reaching the silver tier.
Robert believed in the ideology of quality over quantity, though he knew there was always an argument for the overwhelming power of numbers. The barracks reminded him of his time in the countryside, though he couldn't imagine sharing a bunk bed, as everyone often teased him about being a loud sleeper, whatever that meant.
After making his way through the entire barracks, Robert found Sabas in his small office, strategizing with a few soldiers about possible assaults. Not wanting to interrupt, he knocked. An older man with a slick black ponytail opened the door and immediately recognized Robert, letting him in.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Robert said, "just wanted to let you know I finished the task you gave me."
Sabas looked impressed. "I thought it would take you longer, but you didn't interrupt anything—we were just getting started."
Robert felt a sense of accomplishment. He hadn't realized how far he'd come and was looking forward to further improvement. "Well, I'll leave you to it," he said, turning toward the door.
"Wait," Sabas called after him. "You should probably stay. It's an important meeting, and an extra set of eyes wouldn't hurt."
Robert couldn't lie—he was curious. As a history enthusiast, he knew a thing or two about military tactics. He took a seat and noticed another person in the room, a buff man in full plate armor.
Before beginning, Sabas introduced his sergeants. "The older gentleman is Akino Tijaro, and the bigger fellow is Richard the Mane. Both have leveled up and are invaluable soldiers."
Robert was surprised at how drastically leveling up had transformed them. He wondered if something similar would happen to him. Sabas then pulled out a map, one he had drawn himself, marking their current understanding of the jungle. He circled an area near the village. "This area is clear. We've sent several probing operations."
Robert studied the map, noting the detailed markings. "Where do you think the tribe resides?"
Sabas shrugged. "We're not certain, but if I had to guess, they're likely in this area." He circled the center of the map.
Richard tapped the table. "It'll be hard for me and my men to traverse the jungle. Our armor's too heavy to move comfortably."
Robert nodded in agreement. Heavy infantry like them were at a disadvantage in such moist, dense environments.
Sabas took out an ink pen he'd acquired from Lord Hammond's belongings, drawing two diagonal lines. "I've considered that. You'll be assigned as guards for our logistics teams."
Robert frowned. "I don't mean to sound skeptical, but we don't even know how large the tribes are."
"True," Sabas agreed, "but we can infer that they aren't very strong. The ones we faced on the beach were still quite primitive." He stood up, pacing around the office. "We'll just have to wait for Thabis to return with more information."
---
The jungle was alive with noise as Thabis and his team hacked their way through the thick foliage. Every step was met with resistance from the undergrowth, the sounds of insects buzzing all around them. "We'll take shelter there," Thabis said, pointing to a small cave in the distance.
The group quickened their pace. They'd been traveling for hours, carefully avoiding predators. Upon reaching the cave, Thabis checked to make sure it was clear, then dropped his gear, exhausted. The deeper they ventured into the jungle, the more treacherous the terrain became.
He pulled out a piece of paper, marking the cave's location on the makeshift map he'd been keeping. The other scouts set to work building a small fire as the temperature began to drop. Thabis' stomach growled. "I'm ready for a meal," he muttered, pulling a small pot from his pack and filling it with water from his satchel.
One of the scouts paced nervously. Sensing his discomfort, Thabis addressed him. "What's wrong?"
The scout sighed. "Every time I go on a mission, I skip a rock. However many skips it makes tells me how difficult the mission will be."
Thabis shook his head. "Superstitions only make you paranoid."
"How far did it skip this time?" another scout asked.
The scout's face paled. "That's the thing—it didn't. It sank."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Thabis asked, now curious.
"No. When it sinks, it means some of us are going to die."
Thabis had heard enough. "Go take a walk, clear your head."
The scout stepped outside to relieve himself near a tree. A rustling sound caught his attention. He looked around nervously. "Hello? Who's there?" His voice wavered.
The rustling grew louder, and the scout backed away faster. "Come on, guys, this isn't funny," he whispered, his heart racing. Suddenly, a dart flew through the air, grazing his neck. Panicking, he bolted toward the cave. "Help! They're here!" he screamed, but before he could make it, he collapsed, a sharp pain in his back.
Thabis saw him fall and acted quickly. "Drag him in! Put out the fire and prepare for combat!"
The cave was plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the faint moonlight streaming through the entrance. The air was filled with strange shouts and foreign language as the first tribesmen appeared at the cave's mouth. Thabis knocked an arrow and let it fly, striking one in the neck.
More followed, but Thabis quickly realized they were using prisoners as shields to waste their arrows. Cursing under his breath, he shouted, "They're trying to make us waste ammunition! Prepare for close combat!"
As the last arrow was fired, a group of tribesmen charged the cave. But to their surprise, the cave was pitch-black, and they could only see the bodies of their prisoners. Thabis grabbed one of the tribesmen, covering his mouth as he slit his throat, laying him silently on the ground. His scouts followed suit, moving like shadows.
Outside, the other tribesmen grew wary of the silence within. They sent a larger group, this time armed with glowing stones that illuminated the cave.
Thabis quickly grabbed a stone knife from a fallen enemy, waiting for the group to get closer. With precision, he threw the knife, striking one of the tribesmen holding the glowing stone.
Panic ensued as the tribesmen saw one of their own fall. Thabis didn't waste a second, charging in with his men, taking full advantage of the chaos.
---