The dawn broke with the first light of victory in weeks. Rimuru's soldiers, weary yet triumphant, stood at the walls of the city, gazing at the horizon where the enemy camp lay in disarray. The death of Marcellus had struck the Galdros forces with a severe blow, leaving them leaderless and disorganized.
Padrino stood on the southern battlements, his eyes scanning the enemy camp as the morning mist rolled in. His body ached from the previous night's mission, but his mind was clear. The mission to assassinate Marcellus had succeeded, but the victory came with its own dangers. The Galdros forces, while leaderless, were still vast, and a wounded beast was often the most dangerous.
Marko joined him at the wall, his face drawn with exhaustion. "The scouts report that Galdros is in chaos. Their soldiers are scattered, and without Marcellus, they're struggling to reorganize."
Padrino nodded but kept his eyes on the camp. "They won't stay that way for long. Someone will take command, and when they do, they'll come back with a vengeance. We need to press our advantage now, before they regroup."
Marko crossed his arms, thinking. "We've weakened them, but a full assault could still cost us dearly. We don't have the numbers for an all-out war. What's your plan?"
"We won't engage them directly," Padrino said. "Not yet. We'll send out skirmish teams to harass their supply lines, force them into disarray. If we can keep them off-balance, they won't be able to launch a coordinated attack. In the meantime, we fortify our defenses here in Rimuru."
Marko considered the plan. "It could work, but we'll need to act quickly. If they get organized before we disrupt them, we could be facing a full-scale siege."
Padrino turned to face Marko, his expression determined. "That's why I need you to lead the first skirmish team. You're the best strategist we have, and if anyone can outmaneuver their forces, it's you."
Marko raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the direct order. "You want me out there? What about here? You'll need leadership inside the walls if they attack."
Padrino gave him a small smile. "I have faith in you, Marko. Besides, I'll be here. You know I'm not the type to sit behind walls and wait."
Marko let out a soft chuckle. "True enough. Fine. I'll gather a team. We'll leave before midday."
As Marko departed to make preparations, Hinata approached, her expression a mixture of concern and resolve. She had been quiet since the assassination of Marcellus, her role in the mission weighing heavily on her. Her light magic had been crucial, but the violence of the night had clearly affected her.
"Padrino," she began softly, "are we doing the right thing?"
He turned to her, sensing the uncertainty in her voice. "What do you mean?"
"All this fighting, the lives we're taking… I know Marcellus needed to be stopped, but every death weighs on me. I've been thinking about how far we're willing to go, and it terrifies me sometimes."
Padrino's gaze softened. He had known Hinata since childhood, and he understood the burden she carried. Her light magic was powerful, but her heart was gentle, and the weight of battle often conflicted with her spirit.
"I understand, Hinata," he said quietly. "None of this is easy. But remember, we're not fighting for power or greed. We're fighting to protect the people of Rimuru. Every decision we make, every battle we wage, is to ensure their survival."
Hinata looked down, her fingers tightening around her staff. "I know, but it doesn't make it easier."
Padrino placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice gentle but firm. "We have to make choices no one should have to make. But that's what leadership is. And you've been invaluable, Hinata. Your magic saved us more times than I can count. You've protected this village, just as much as I have."
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination despite the doubt. "I won't stop fighting, Padrino. I just needed to know that you still believe in what we're doing."
He nodded. "I do. More than ever."
As the day progressed, the village of Rimuru stirred with activity. Marko gathered his team of elite soldiers, while Padrino focused on fortifying the defenses and preparing the town for the possibility of another attack. The death of Marcellus had bought them time, but Padrino knew it wouldn't be long before Galdros's forces found new leadership.
By midday, Marko's team was ready to leave. Padrino watched as they rode out, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, their faces set in grim determination. He trusted Marko to lead them, but that didn't ease the worry gnawing at his gut.
Just as the gates closed behind the skirmish team, a scout came rushing up to Padrino, breathless and wide-eyed.
"My lord!" the scout gasped. "A messenger from the Galdros camp has arrived. He requests an audience with you."
Padrino's brow furrowed. A messenger? From Galdros? He hadn't expected them to send diplomats, not after the chaos caused by Marcellus's death.
"Where is he now?" Padrino asked.
"At the northern gate. He came alone, bearing no weapons."
Padrino exchanged a glance with Hinata, who had been listening quietly nearby. "This could be a trick," she said cautiously. "They could be trying to distract us while they regroup."
"Or," Padrino said thoughtfully, "they could be looking for a way out of this war. Without Marcellus, they might be desperate for a truce."
Hinata frowned. "It's dangerous either way. We should be cautious."
"I agree," Padrino said. "But if there's a chance to end this conflict without more bloodshed, we have to at least hear what they have to say."
With that, Padrino and Hinata made their way to the northern gate, where a single figure stood waiting. The messenger was a tall man, dressed in simple but official-looking attire. His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of anxiety in his eyes as Padrino and Hinata approached.
"My name is Silas," the messenger began, bowing his head respectfully. "I come on behalf of the remaining commanders of Galdros. They wish to speak with you."
Padrino studied the man carefully, trying to gauge his sincerity. "And why would the commanders of Galdros want to talk to me after the death of Marcellus?"
Silas met Padrino's gaze steadily. "Because they know that without a leader, their forces will crumble. They've realized that continued fighting will only lead to more needless death. They seek a truce… and possibly, terms of surrender."
A silence hung in the air as Padrino considered the implications of the offer. A truce? A surrender? Could it really be that simple?
Hinata, standing beside him, gave him a look of caution, but also hope. "We should tread carefully, Padrino. But if there's a chance to end this war, we can't ignore it."
Padrino nodded slowly, his mind already racing with possibilities. "Tell your commanders I will meet with them. But understand this — if this is a trick, the consequences will be dire."
Silas nodded, relief flickering across his face. "I assure you, Lord Padrino, this is no trick. They wish to negotiate in good faith."
As Silas left to return to the Galdros camp, Padrino turned to Hinata, his expression thoughtful. "If this is real, it could change everything."
Hinata gave a small smile. "We'll find out soon enough."