The days following the arrival of the Outcasts passed in a tense rhythm. The village of Rimuru was alive with preparation, but beneath the surface, an unease settled in like a fog. The villagers were not accustomed to the rough and battle-hardened soldiers who now walked their streets. Garrik's men, though professional in their demeanor, exuded a sense of danger that made even the bravest of the townsfolk uneasy.
Padrino spent most of his time coordinating the defense plans with Marko and the council, while also managing the delicate integration of the Outcasts into Rimuru's military forces. He trusted Asuna's judgment, but Garrik and his people remained an unknown variable. As the pressure of the impending conflict with Galdros loomed ever closer, the cracks between the different factions began to show.
One morning, as the village stirred to life, Hinata made her way to the market to speak with the villagers, as she had promised. She greeted the familiar faces with warmth, trying to soothe their concerns about the Outcasts and the growing militarization of Rimuru. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could see the tension in their eyes.
"Are we really safe with them here?" one villager, an elderly woman named Marna, asked. "I've heard stories about the Outcasts… they're mercenaries, killers. What's to stop them from turning on us when they feel like it?"
Hinata smiled softly, trying to reassure her. "I understand your concern, Marna. But Padrino wouldn't have allowed them into the village if he didn't believe they were on our side. They've fought against Galdros longer than we have. Right now, we need every ally we can get."
Marna didn't seem entirely convinced but nodded slowly. "I trust you, Hinata. I just hope it's enough."
As Hinata continued to speak with the villagers, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling in her gut. Something about the atmosphere in Rimuru felt… off. The tension between the villagers and the Outcasts wasn't the only thing she was sensing. There was something more, something darker lurking beneath the surface.
That afternoon, Padrino was in the war room, reviewing maps and tactical plans with Marko. The room was filled with the low murmur of voices as the council discussed the defense strategies for when Galdros made their next move. But amidst the discussions, there was a sudden commotion outside.
One of the guards burst into the room, out of breath. "Lord Padrino, there's been a fight! Near the eastern gate—one of the villagers and an Outcast."
Padrino's jaw tightened. This was exactly what he had feared. "Take me there," he said, rising from his seat.
Marko followed behind as they hurried to the scene. By the time they arrived, the fight had been broken up, but the aftermath was clear. A young villager stood, clutching his arm where a deep gash bled freely. Across from him, one of Garrik's men, a brutish-looking Outcast, was being restrained by two guards. The crowd of onlookers had gathered, whispering among themselves, their faces filled with fear and anger.
"What happened?" Padrino demanded.
The villager, a boy no older than eighteen, winced as he spoke. "I—I was just trying to do my job, Lord Padrino. I didn't mean anything by it! I told him the eastern gate was off-limits to non-soldiers, and he… he just attacked me!"
The Outcast, still struggling against his captors, spat on the ground. "The boy was running his mouth, acting like he owns the place! Thought he could tell me what to do."
Padrino's eyes narrowed, and he turned to Garrik, who had arrived shortly after them. "Control your men," he said coldly.
Garrik didn't flinch under Padrino's gaze. "I'll handle it," he replied, stepping forward. "Krell, you're out of line. We didn't come here to fight the people we're supposed to be protecting."
Krell glared at the villager but said nothing as Garrik gestured to his men. "Take him back to camp. We'll deal with this."
Padrino stepped closer to Garrik, his voice low but firm. "This can't happen again. The villagers are on edge, and if your men keep pushing them, it's going to tear this alliance apart before it even begins."
Garrik nodded, though his expression remained stony. "Understood. But my men are used to war, not coddling farmers. We'll try to keep the peace, but you'll need to make sure your people understand that we're not their enemy."
Padrino clenched his jaw but didn't argue. As Garrik and his men left, he turned back to Marko. "This is getting worse by the day."
Marko nodded grimly. "We need to act fast. Galdros isn't going to wait for us to get our house in order. If we don't deal with this tension now, we'll have a civil war on our hands before the real battle even begins."
Padrino agreed. "We'll hold a meeting with the villagers and the Outcasts. We need to settle this before it spirals out of control."
That evening, Padrino called for a gathering in the village square. The entire village, along with the Outcasts, assembled, their faces reflecting the tension that had been brewing for days. Padrino stood at the front, flanked by Hinata, Marko, and Garrik.
"I've called you all here because we have a common enemy," Padrino began, his voice strong and commanding. "The Kingdom of Galdros will come for us again. And when they do, we will need to stand together if we're going to survive."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "I understand the fears that some of you have. The Outcasts have a reputation, and it's not one built on peace. But they are here because, like us, they are fighting for survival. And like us, they want a future where they are free from Galdros' tyranny."
Garrik stepped forward, his gruff voice carrying across the crowd. "My people didn't come here to cause trouble. We're here to fight the real enemy. But we won't stand by and let anyone—villager or otherwise—disrespect us. You treat us fairly, and we'll do the same."
There was a murmur of unease from the villagers, but Padrino raised his hand for silence. "This village, this kingdom, will only survive if we stand united. I won't tolerate infighting. We have a war to win, and that must come first."
Hinata stepped forward next, her voice calm but filled with authority. "I know change is difficult. But we must trust each other if we're going to make it through what's coming. Fear won't protect us—only unity will."
As the crowd dispersed, Padrino caught Garrik's eye. There was a silent understanding between them now—uneasy but necessary. They were both walking a tightrope, and the smallest misstep could plunge them all into chaos.
For now, the immediate crisis had been averted. But in the shadows, Padrino knew that betrayal, whether from the Outcasts or within his own ranks, was always a possibility.
The storm was closer than ever.