The camp was shrouded in darkness as Leon moved silently through the shadows, his breath steady and his steps careful. He knew the patrol routes, the timing of the overseers' rounds, and the blind spots where he could slip by unnoticed. It had taken days of observation, but now, he moved like a ghost.
His chains barely clinked as he navigated through the gaps between the barracks, slipping past the makeshift fences and avoiding the guards' torchlight. He had a destination in mind—Jerik.
Jerik, the corrupt guard who was more interested in lining his own pockets than serving the kingdom, was a man Leon needed to manipulate. If he could play his cards right, Jerik would be an asset, a source of medicine and information. But first, Leon had to make sure Jerik understood who was in control.
When Leon finally found him, Jerik was standing at his post near the southern watchtower, his back turned as he surveyed the camp below. The guard shifted his weight, looking tired and bored, his mind clearly elsewhere.
Without making a sound, Leon emerged from the shadows, stepping just behind Jerik. He waited for the guard to notice him, letting the seconds drag. When Jerik finally turned, the look of shock on his face was immediate.
"How the hell—" Jerik's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, but he didn't draw it. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Leon, standing free of the shackles that should've kept him bound to the camp.
Leon remained calm, his voice low but firm. "You're surprised. Don't be."
Jerik blinked, still processing what he was seeing. "How did you—how did you get out?"
Leon ignored the question, stepping closer, his presence unnerving the guard. He could see the fear in Jerik's eyes. Not just fear of getting caught, but fear of what Leon might do.
"You've underestimated me," Leon said quietly. "That's your first mistake."
Jerik swallowed, trying to regain control of the situation. "What do you want? If the overseers find out you're out here, we're both dead."
Leon's lips curled into a slight smirk, the darkness of the night masking the cold calculation in his eyes. "Then it's a good thing they won't find out, isn't it?"
Jerik didn't respond, his grip on the sword tightening. But Leon could see the doubt in his posture. He was afraid—afraid of what Leon might do, but also intrigued by how Leon had managed to find him without alerting anyone.
Leon stepped even closer, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. "You're in a position of power, Jerik, but it's fragile. I could snap it in half if I wanted. But that's not why I'm here."
Jerik stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "Then why?"
Leon leaned in, his voice smooth, but laced with a dangerous edge. "I'm here to make you an offer. An alliance, of sorts."
Jerik frowned, suspicion creeping into his expression. "An alliance? With a slave?"
"With a man who can give you what you want," Leon corrected him. "Power. Control. You see, the overseers don't trust you. They use you, but they don't respect you. The other guards look down on you because they know you're willing to sell out for a few coins."
Jerik's jaw tightened, his pride wounded by Leon's words. But Leon didn't stop.
"I can change that," Leon continued. "Imagine having a group of slaves loyal to you. Fighters. Men who will follow your commands, not because they're forced to, but because they choose to. You'd be more than just another guard. You'd have your own army."
Jerik's eyes flickered with interest, but he wasn't convinced yet. "And why the hell would slaves be loyal to me? You're delusional."
Leon's smirk grew. "Not delusional. Strategic. Right now, these men have nothing. They're broken, starving, waiting to die in this miserable hellhole. But if you give them something—food, medicine—if you make them believe you're their savior, they'll follow you. I'll make sure of it."
Jerik scoffed, but there was uncertainty in his voice. "And what do you get out of this? Why help me?"
Leon's expression darkened, his voice cold and precise. "I want two things. Medicine, and one extra ration of food. Not for everyone. Just for me."
Jerik laughed, but it was a nervous sound, lacking the confidence he tried to project. "You expect me to risk my neck for a few scraps of food and some medicine?"
Leon's eyes narrowed, and the dangerous edge returned to his tone. "I'm offering you a way out. A way to have real power in this kingdom. Or you can keep scraping by, taking bribes and hoping the overseers don't decide to hang you for being a traitor."
Jerik didn't respond right away. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension of two men calculating their next move. Finally, Jerik spoke, his voice quieter, more cautious.
"What makes you think I won't turn you in right now? Kill you and be done with it?"
Leon chuckled darkly. "You're not that stupid. You wouldn't have let me get this far if you were."
Jerik's grip on his sword loosened, but he still didn't look fully convinced. "You talk a big game, Leon, but this is dangerous. You could be signing both our death warrants."
Leon stepped back slightly, giving Jerik some space, but his gaze remained intense. "Or we could be writing our future. Think about it. You have the power to control these men, to rise above your station. All I need is the medicine, and a little extra food. It's a small price for what I'm offering."
Jerik looked away, his mind clearly racing with possibilities. He wasn't a fool. He knew Leon's offer wasn't without risk, but the promise of power was tantalizing. If what Leon said was true, he could become more than just a lowly guard. He could carve out his own place in the kingdom.
But Jerik was also a man who valued his survival above all else, and Leon knew that.
Finally, Jerik exhaled, shaking his head. "I'm not agreeing to anything yet. But... I'll think about it."
Leon's expression remained calm, but inwardly, he knew he had made progress. He had planted the seed of doubt in Jerik's mind, and that was enough for now.
"Good," Leon said quietly. "But remember this: the longer you wait, the more dangerous this game becomes. For both of us."
With that, Leon turned and melted back into the shadows, leaving Jerik standing alone, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty and temptation.
As Leon slipped through the camp, heading back toward the barracks, he allowed himself a small, grim smile. Jerik hadn't agreed, but he hadn't refused either.
And that was enough for Leon to keep moving forward.
Because in this game of survival, hesitation could be fatal.