Hidden away in a dimly lit cottage at the corner of the alley, Leon, Brandon, and Liam huddled close, peering cautiously through the narrow window. Beyond the open space of the village market stood the imposing big house; its presence both foreboding and crucial to their mission. Inside, they knew, Olivia was likely being held captive.
Outside the big house, standing like statues, a heavily armored knight stood vigilant, plate armor gleaming dully in the fading light. In his hands, he held a menacing halberd and an axe, their edges sharp enough to slice through armor. Flanking him were two servants, not as imposing as their leader, but still clad in chain mail and fully capable of defending their post. These weren't just any guards. They were Kantardars; ruthless, disciplined soldiers who answered only to their lord.
Not long ago, a nobleman, resplendent in elaborate armor and flowing robes, had exited the big house with his retinue of soldiers. His armor, polished to a gleam, was unmistakable, and his departure left an unsettling silence in his wake. No one in the village knew where they had gone, but their absence created a window of opportunity, one Leon and his companions could not afford to waste.
But shortly after the nobleman left, the villagers had witnessed a grim sight: two Kantardar soldiers, moving carefully, had carried the lifeless body of the old blacksmith into the big house. It sent a chill down Leon's spine. The blacksmith had been like a father to Olivia, and they all feared what this could mean.
The realization hit them hard. Olivia was still inside that house.
It was a bitter relief. If the soldiers had been using the old blacksmith's life as leverage against Olivia, and they had taken his body inside, it was likely that she was still alive, for now. If she had been harmed, the blacksmith's death would have served no purpose. But time was running out, and they had no way of knowing how long her captors would keep her safe.
Leon clenched his fists, his thoughts racing. How were they going to get in?
His gaze lingered on the armored knight by the door; the "large tin can," as he bitterly referred to him and the two attendants beside him, "small tin cans." These men were no ordinary soldiers; their gear was far superior to anything Leon and his friends had faced before. If they had been dealing with common soldiers in chain mail, perhaps they could have fought their way through. But this knight, towering and broad like an iron giant, was a different challenge altogether.
Where could he strike? Even if he got close enough, Leon's sword would barely scratch the knight's thick plate armor. His bow would fare no better. And what about the possibility of other guards inside? If they engaged the knight and his men, the noise would certainly alert anyone within the house, potentially putting Olivia at greater risk.
Leon shook his head, frustrated. The odds were stacked against them, but they had to act. He turned to his companions, seeking a spark of inspiration. "Do you guys have any ideas to lure the guards away?"
Brandon, ever the strategist, spoke up first. "What if I pose as a villager and tell them that the Orland army has arrived just outside the village? It might force them to gather at the entrance, and we could sneak in while they're distracted."
Leon frowned, considering the plan. It was clever, but far from foolproof. "The knight at the door… he's too disciplined. I doubt he'll leave his post. His orders are clear: guard Olivia. If he sends you to report to the nobleman, we'll be exposed before we even get close."
Liam, the youngest of the group, piped up with his own idea, a mischievous glint in his eye. "How about we go around the back of the house and start a fire? In all those heroic tales we've heard, that's how they always do it; burn the place down to cause a distraction!"
Brandon quickly shot the idea down, his voice stern. "That won't work. Even if we manage to set the place ablaze, the Kantardars aren't the kind to panic. They'd probably let the whole village burn before abandoning Olivia. Worse, they might just take her and leave without a second thought."
Leon nodded, agreeing with Brandon's reasoning. "Besides, if the fire brings more soldiers from the village, we'll be completely outnumbered. The last thing we need is to make things harder for ourselves."
The weight of the situation pressed down on them all. Time was slipping through their fingers, and every moment they delayed put Olivia in greater danger. They had no clear path forward, but one thing was certain: they couldn't afford to make a mistake.
The three of them sat together, brainstorming different ways to deceive the guards, but each idea fell apart upon further discussion. Every plan seemed either too risky or unlikely to work, leaving them frustrated and out of options.
As the conversation dwindled into silence, Leon felt a familiar, sharp pang in his stomach; a reminder that he hadn't eaten in nearly ten hours. The last meal he'd had was the evening before, and after fighting Kantadar soldiers earlier, the hunger was making itself known with full force.
Glancing around the disheveled house, he took in the sorry state of the place. The Kantadar soldiers had ransacked the village home, leaving chaos in their wake. Furniture was overturned, and personal belongings were strewn across the floor. On the dining table sat the remnants of what had once been a family's breakfast, untouched by its original owners. A few slices of rye bread lay scattered, marked by teeth, though Leon couldn't tell if they were the bites of the fleeing villagers or the Kantadar marauders.
He considered asking his companions if they should eat what little food was left, just to sustain themselves for the mission ahead. But as his eyes lingered on the table, an idea sparked in his mind, sudden and clear.
"I've got it!" Leon exclaimed, standing up with a jolt of energy. His companions looked at him, startled but hopeful.
At the entrance of the village house, the knight guarding the door shifted uncomfortably, his heavy halberd in hand. The armor that encased him, once a symbol of prestige, was now a burden, weighing him down. He had been on his feet for hours, muscles stiff and aching from the previous day's march and the skirmish that followed. The constant vigilance was taking its toll.
The knight stretched, feeling the soreness in his neck and shoulders. "A little rest would be nice," he thought, though he dared not lower his guard too much. His lord had ordered him to watch over the blonde girl inside, a task that seemed increasingly unnecessary. The girl, beautiful as she was, hardly seemed worth the trouble. His lord had plenty of women waiting back in Kantadar, and now, trapped in enemy territory, he couldn't fathom why the Baron was so obsessed with her.
"Master, there's a box in the corner. Would you like to sit down for a moment if I bring it over?" the servant beside him asked, his voice filled with eager obedience.
The knight grunted in agreement. "Yeah, bring it over."
He had been on his feet since the night before, and the thought of sitting for even a few moments was a relief. After their defeat on the battlefield, they had been on the run, barely catching any sleep before conquering this pitiful village. He had hoped to rest properly after the battle, but instead, here he was, babysitting a dangerous girl while the other knights rested.
As the servant dragged the wooden box over, the knight's mind wandered. He didn't understand his lord's obsession with this particular girl. Sure, she was striking, but he had heard enough tales to know that even the prettiest captives could be dangerous; especially one who wielded a sword as well as she did. Some of his comrades had already learned the hard way not to underestimate women, especially in these parts. He recalled the unfortunate stories of soldiers who had been castrated by their captives. Even the thought made him wince.
His mind drifted to Mamer, one of his fellow knights, who was still bedridden from a nasty sword wound inflicted by a woman in the last skirmish. The knight shook his head, half wishing the Baron would come to his senses and realize that there were bigger problems than playing with women in enemy territory.
The wooden box was set down with a thud, and the knight sat, finally feeling a little relief as he leaned against the doorpost. His eyes drifted shut for a moment, though his grip on the halberd never loosened.
Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Mercenaries, stop!" one of the servants barked, his voice cutting through the quiet.
The knight opened his eyes, turning his attention to the source of the disturbance. A small group of men was approaching the big house. From the looks of them, they were mercenaries; three in total, dressed in simple armor. But something was odd. One of them carried a plate, not a weapon. The plate was piled high with a feast of eggs, bread, and cheese, arranged in a way that seemed almost… inviting.
Behind him, the other two men carried drinks. One had a kettle slung over his shoulder, while the other hoisted a small wine barrel. The knight raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious.
"What's this about?" he asked, his voice gruff.
The mercenary at the front, the one holding the plate, grinned. "A gift, sir. From the villagers. A peace offering, if you will. Thought you might want to eat something while you're standing guard."
The knight eyed the food suspiciously, but the aroma of fresh eggs and warm bread was hard to resist. He hadn't eaten anything of substance since they'd arrived in the village, and the growl in his stomach reminded him of that fact.
But something in the back of his mind nagged at him. Why now? Why would the villagers offer food to their captors, especially after what the Kantadar soldiers had done to their homes?
"And what do you expect in return?" the knight asked, his eyes narrowing.
The mercenary's grin never faltered. "Nothing, sir. Just goodwill. We've no interest in fighting with you or your men. Thought a little kindness might ease the tension."
The knight's stomach rumbled again. His suspicion lingered, but the food smelled too good to pass up. He waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, leave it here. But don't linger."
As the mercenaries set the food down and retreated, the knight leaned forward, eyeing the feast.
"What are you doing here?" The knight, seated on the wooden box near the entrance, didn't bother to stand. He raised his head lazily, his voice filled with an air of pride and authority as he addressed the three approaching mercenaries.
Brandon, carrying a plate of food, bowed his head respectfully, trying his best to mask the tension coursing through him. His voice, though steady, held a note of forced calm. "The Baron thought the girl might be hungry, sir. He sent us to bring her some food and drink."
Behind his helmet and mask, Brandon's heart raced, but the armor hid his nervousness well enough. He prayed the knight wouldn't suspect anything, and fortunately, the soldier seemed to take his words at face value.
The knight sighed, his grip still loose on the halberd. "The lord really dotes on that girl," he muttered, sounding more than a little bitter. "Here I am, slaughtering enemies in his name, and she's the one getting food delivered as if she's royalty." The thought clearly irked him, but he gave a dismissive wave.
The servant standing at the door glanced at the knight, waiting for instructions.
With a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, the knight waved his hand lazily. "Open the door. Can't have the little beauty starving and losing her figure, can we?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, and the servants couldn't suppress their snickers as they pushed the door open, stepping aside.
Leon, hidden beneath his own mask, took a quick glance inside as they approached. He strained to catch a glimpse of Olivia, but disappointment washed over him. The interior of the house was shadowy, with walls and corners that concealed much of the space beyond. She must be somewhere further inside, out of sight.
Just as the three men were about to step into the house, the knight abruptly swung the shaft of his halberd, blocking their path. The solid clunk of wood against the ground froze Leon in his tracks, his initial joy at how smoothly things had gone quickly evaporating.
"Sir?" Brandon asked cautiously, his nerves returning in full force.
The knight's tone was casual, but firm. "You lot aren't needed any further. Just hand the food to my servants and be on your way." He waved them off with the same laziness, not even bothering to rise.
Leon, standing just behind Brandon, felt his heart sink. He couldn't understand the knight's words, but the dismissive tone made it clear; they wouldn't be allowed to go any further.
The plan, which had seemed promising just moments ago, was falling apart.
Behind his mask, Brandon's mind raced. They couldn't afford to just hand over the food and walk away. Once they did, they would lose any reason to come near the house again. This was their best chance to get inside, and they had to make it count.
In that moment, inspiration struck.
Without missing a beat, Brandon turned to Leon, passing him the plate of food. Then, with a swift motion, he grabbed the small wine barrel from Liam's hands. Bowing deeply, he presented the barrel to the knight with both hands, his voice dripping with humility. "Sir, I tasted this village's beer earlier. It's surprisingly good. Please, allow me to offer this to you."
The knight raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. "What's this now?"
Brandon smiled beneath his mask, hoping his act would convince the knight. "To be honest, sir, the three of us volunteered for this task. We've heard tales about the girl, how she fought off several of our brothers. We just wanted to catch a glimpse of her. Out of curiosity, you see."
The knight's expression shifted slightly. Brandon feared for a moment that he might have overplayed his hand, so he quickly added, waving his hand as if to dismiss any untoward assumptions. "We don't mean any harm, sir! Nothing improper, I swear. My brother and I even made a wager, we figure she must look like some kind of witch with eight eyes and four legs to be that fierce!" He chuckled nervously, hoping the knight would see it as a harmless joke.
The knight tilted his head, considering Brandon's words. His grip on the halberd relaxed just a bit as he looked the three of them over, the offer of beer and the feigned curiosity softening his earlier suspicion.
The faintest smile flickered across his face. "You want to see the girl, huh?"
Brandon nodded enthusiastically, keeping his posture humble. "Just a glimpse, sir. We'll be out of your way right after."
The knight tapped the halberd shaft against the ground thoughtfully, as if weighing his options. For a moment, it seemed like the plan might work.
The knight hefted the small wine barrel, feeling its weight in his hands. Normally, such a low-quality drink wouldn't even catch his attention, but under the circumstances, on the run, exhausted, and with little to comfort him; it was better than nothing. He looked down at the mercenary standing before him. Though the man's helmet obscured his face, his hunched shoulders and submissive posture amused the knight. At least this one knew his place.
"Alright, enough with the nonsense," the knight grumbled, rolling his eyes at Brandon's earlier joke. "If she really had eight eyes and four legs, the Baron would've cut her down himself. Go on in, but don't overstay your welcome. And as for touching her?" The knight's voice took on a mocking edge, a grin spreading beneath his helmet. "If you're foolish enough to try, feel free. If you survive, the Baron might even make you a knight."
He laughed, imagining the absurdity of these mercenaries standing a chance against the girl. If they could get near her without losing a limb, they'd deserve a reward far beyond anything he could offer.
Brandon, unsure whether the knight was joking or issuing a warning, nodded quickly, grateful for the opening. He tilted his head slightly, signaling Leon and Liam to follow him into the house. His heart was pounding, but so far, everything was going according to plan.
Leon, silent until now, listened to the exchange between Brandon and the knight with a growing sense of unease. When the knight finally lifted his halberd and allowed them to pass, Leon let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He could feel the tension leave his shoulders as he stepped through the doorway, clutching the kettle and the plate of food like a lifeline.
Inside the big house, the atmosphere was heavy with an oppressive quiet. Leon's eyes scanned the room, and as they rounded a corner, his gaze finally settled on Olivia.
His breath caught in his throat.
He had mentally prepared himself for the worst. Given the cruelty of the Kantadar soldiers and the horrors they had witnessed, Leon had braced himself to find Olivia in a terrible state. He feared she'd been beaten, tied up, or worse. But what he saw was a shock of a different kind.
There, in the far corner of the room, sat Olivia. Her clothes were intact and neatly arranged, her posture upright though her expression was deeply troubled. She wasn't bound. There were no chains, no restraints. In fact, she was holding a bloodstained two-handed sword in her lap, her hands steady on the hilt. The weapon hadn't even been taken from her.
How? Leon wondered, utterly bewildered. How had she, of all people, managed to earn such leniency from the ruthless Kantadars? They hadn't even disarmed her. For a moment, a wild thought crossed his mind, Did she even need saving?
But then his eyes shifted to the corner, where he spotted old Brian, the village blacksmith, lying motionless on a sack mat. The man's skin was pale, his breathing shallow. Blood had soaked through his clothes, and his frail body trembled with the effort of simply staying alive. In that instant, Leon knew: Olivia was trapped here, not because she couldn't fight her way out, but because she wouldn't leave without Brian. The girl might be strong, but she couldn't escape with her father in such a condition.
As Leon's gaze returned to Olivia, he noticed the way she glared at them, her eyes cold, filled with disdain.
"Get out," she said, her voice like ice, cutting through the silence of the room. "I told you, I need time alone."
She didn't even glance at the food in Leon's hands. Olivia clearly wasn't foolish enough to accept anything from her captors, no matter how tempting it might look. The idea of eating food given by her enemies was revolting to her; who knew what they might have put in it?
Leon bent down, carefully placing the food and water on the floor. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if to show that he meant no harm. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke.
"It's me, Olivia."
Her cold eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on the sword, as if she hadn't quite heard him right. But then Leon shifted slightly, moving out of view from the open door and the Kantadar soldiers waiting outside. He reached up and lifted the mask from his face.
Olivia's eyes widened in disbelief. "Leo?" she breathed, her voice catching for a moment as she recognized him.
Leon quickly raised a finger to his lips. "Shh… Keep it down," he whispered urgently, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the guards hadn't overheard. "We don't have much time."
The icy mask of indifference fell away from Olivia's face, replaced by a mixture of relief and confusion. She hadn't expected a rescue, let alone from Leon and his companions. But now that he was here, a faint glimmer of hope flickered in her eyes.
Olivia's lips snapped shut as soon as she heard Leon's voice, her eyes still wide with disbelief. Her heart raced, but she swallowed the sound that threatened to escape her throat. Her gaze shifted quickly from Leon to the two figures standing beside him. When they lifted their masks, she recognized them instantly; Brandon and Liam, their familiar faces a welcome sight.
Leon's attention briefly flickered to the old blacksmith, lying pale and unmoving on the sack mat. With a deep breath, he stepped closer to Olivia, his expression serious. He bent down, his voice hushed and urgent as he whispered into her ear.
"Listen, Olivia, there isn't much time, so I'll keep this short. We've got three horses hidden a little way from here. More than enough to get you and your father out of this village. The problem is, we can't take down the guards on our own."
He paused for a moment, watching her carefully before continuing, his voice even lower.
"You need to be straight with me; can you take on that knight outside? The one in the heavy armor. If you do, what are your chances? How long would it take? We can handle the two servants, but the knight... he's the real problem."
As Leon spoke, his breath brushed against her ear, sending a strange warmth through her that she quickly shook off. Now wasn't the time for distractions. Clearing her head, she pushed those odd feelings aside and focused, responding in a low, serious voice.
"If his skill is similar to the knight I fought earlier, I'd say I have a 60 to 70 percent chance of beating him. But... the time it'll take is unpredictable. He's already aware of my fighting style, and his halberd makes it hard for me to get close enough to use half-sword techniques." She hesitated, then added, "Unless I can get my hands on a mace with a long handle, I don't see this fight ending quickly."
She looked up, her green eyes meeting Leon's with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "I'm sorry."
Olivia's voice was tinged with regret. The weight of her helplessness gnawed at her, and her heart sank knowing her friends had risked their lives to save her. She had already lost too many people today; her village torn apart, familiar faces now only memories. The thought of these three friends, these brave souls; getting hurt or killed because of her was unbearable.
After a moment of silence, Olivia took a deep breath and offered her own plan, one that seemed to carry the best chance of success.
"How about I distract the guards at the door? I'll draw their attention while you take my father and escape. I can keep them busy long enough for you to get out."
A small, forced smile tugged at her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Don't worry about me. The Kantadar noble doesn't want me dead, which is the only reason I'm still here. If you and my father can escape, that's all that matters."
Before she could say more, Leon frowned and quickly interrupted. "Stop. We're not doing that. Think of another plan."
His voice was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. Olivia's self-sacrifice didn't sit well with him, not because it wasn't brave, but because it wasn't the reason they were there.
There was more he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. The truth was simple, though not easy to admit. Neither he, Liam, nor Brandon had come all this way, risking their lives, for the old blacksmith. No matter how much they sympathized with her father's condition, the person they were here to save was Olivia. If they couldn't get her out, the entire mission would be meaningless.
He wasn't about to let her throw herself into danger while they fled.
Leon's mind raced, considering their options. Suddenly, an idea flashed through his mind. His eyes met Olivia's again, this time with a glimmer of strategy behind them. He leaned in, his voice tactful but direct.
"You mentioned earlier that the noble was interested in you, right?"
Olivia's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but she nodded, unsure where he was going with this.
Leon's expression shifted, his mind clearly piecing together a new plan. "I think I have an idea."