The mercenary camp was a stark contrast to the chaos of the lord's smoldering ruins. Tents were neatly arranged in a semi-circle around a large central fire, their occupants—battle-hardened soldiers—moving about with a calm efficiency that came from years of experience. The smell of roasting meat wafted through the air, but Leon barely noticed. His mind was focused elsewhere, turning over every detail of the recent attack, considering the next move. The victory at the camp was hollow—too many had escaped, too many overseers and loyalists remained alive.
And the lord still ruled.
Rourke, on the other hand, was in high spirits. He sat across from Leon at a makeshift wooden table inside the largest tent, a pile of gold coins and valuable trinkets spread out before him—loot from the raid. The mercenary captain grinned as he inspected a jewel-encrusted dagger, clearly pleased with the haul. His men lounged nearby, drinking and laughing, the weight of the recent battle already fading in their minds.
Leon's gaze drifted over the scene, his jaw tight. This wasn't the victory he had hoped for. The raid had been successful, yes, but it was only the first step in a much larger battle.
Rourke glanced at Leon, noticing his silence. "You don't seem as pleased as I am, healer," he remarked, his voice casual, though there was an edge to it. "We took down the camp, liberated the slaves, and made off with a fortune. What more could you want?"
Leon's eyes flicked up to meet Rourke's. "They're still alive."
Rourke blinked, surprised. "Who? The overseers?"
Leon nodded, his expression grim. "And the lord. You may have crippled his operation, but he's not beaten. He'll regroup, and when he does, he'll come for us—and for the people we freed. That camp was just a piece of his power. His influence stretches far beyond that."
Rourke leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "You're not wrong, but we can't storm his estate just yet. His forces outnumber mine three to one, and we barely had enough manpower to pull off the raid."
"Which is why we need a better plan," Leon said, his voice calm but insistent. "You hit him where it hurts once—his wealth and his slaves. But to destroy him, you need to dismantle his entire operation piece by piece. Isolate him, weaken his forces, and strike when he's vulnerable."
Rourke studied Leon for a moment, his brow furrowing. "You're a healer, not a strategist. What do you know about warfare?"
Leon met Rourke's gaze evenly. "I was a military doctor, yes, but I was also a soldier. I've fought in battles, planned raids, and led men. I know how to wage war, and I know how to win."
Rourke's eyes narrowed, intrigued. "Go on."
Leon leaned forward, his mind already racing through possibilities. "The lord's strength lies in his wealth and the loyalty of his forces. But his forces aren't as loyal as you think. They follow him because he pays them well. Without that gold, they'll reconsider their allegiances."
Rourke gestured to the pile of treasure on the table. "And now we have his gold."
"Some of it," Leon corrected. "But not all. He's hoarded much more, hidden away in other strongholds. We need to find those caches and bleed him dry."
Rourke leaned back in his chair, clearly intrigued now. "And how do you propose we do that?"
Leon's fingers traced the edge of the table as he began laying out the plan. "First, we identify the locations of his other assets. He'll have storage facilities, guarded vaults, and possibly safe houses where he stashes his wealth. Once we've gathered intelligence on those locations, we strike fast and hard. But we don't stop at the gold."
Rourke's interest deepened. "What else?"
"We target his supply chains," Leon continued, his tone confident and measured. "Cut off the resources he needs to maintain his army—food, weapons, reinforcements. Without supplies, his men will begin to desert. When his army is weakened and isolated, we launch a coordinated assault on his estate."
Rourke nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "It's a solid plan, but finding those caches and supply routes will take time. We can't afford to sit around while he rebuilds."
"Which is why we need to move quickly and strike strategically," Leon said. "We send scouts and spies to gather intel. At the same time, we sow discord among his ranks. Spread rumors that he's running out of gold, that his forces are vulnerable. If we can get some of his men to turn against him, it'll be even easier to dismantle his power base."
Rourke scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You're thinking like a tactician. I like that. But this isn't a full-blown army we're running here—it's mercenaries. I can't guarantee discipline or loyalty once we start pushing deeper into enemy territory."
Leon smiled faintly. "Which is why you offer them something more valuable than gold. You offer them the chance to rule alongside you when the lord is taken down. Once he's gone, his territory will be up for grabs, and those who helped will get their share of the spoils."
Rourke's eyes lit up at the prospect. "Ambition and loyalty bought by a promise of power. Not bad, healer. Not bad at all."
Leon nodded. "But we need to make sure that promise is backed by action. You'll need to prove that you can deliver. Which means every strike we make needs to be a victory—swift, brutal, and decisive."
Rourke grinned, clearly impressed. "I underestimated you, Leon. I didn't realize you had such a mind for war."
Leon's expression darkened slightly. "War teaches you quickly, or it kills you. I've seen enough of it to know how to stay ahead of the enemy."
For a moment, the two men sat in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. Rourke's men continued their revelry in the background, oblivious to the weight of the conversation unfolding in the tent.
Finally, Rourke spoke again. "Alright, Leon. I'm in. We'll follow your plan. But understand this—if it fails, it won't just be the lord who's coming for us. There are others with a vested interest in maintaining the balance of power."
"I'm aware of the risks," Leon replied calmly. "But I'm not planning on failing."
Rourke chuckled. "Confident. I like that." He leaned forward, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "So, where do we start?"
Leon took a deep breath, his mind already working through the next steps. "We start by identifying his nearest supply routes. The scouts will need to infiltrate the villages and towns under the lord's control, posing as merchants or travelers. They'll listen, observe, and report back. Once we have a map of his supply lines, we target the weakest points."
Rourke's smile widened. "Simple enough. I'll send my best men."
Leon nodded. "And we'll need to recruit more allies. There are smaller mercenary groups, unaffiliated fighters who might be persuaded to join us if the reward is worth it."
Rourke stood, clearly energized by the conversation. "I'll handle that. Word of our success at the camp is already spreading. It won't be hard to find more men eager for gold and glory."
Leon stood as well, his body aching from the battle but his mind sharp and focused. "Good. While you handle the recruitment, I'll work on gathering intelligence about the lord's other strongholds. Once we have enough information, we can plan the next strike."
Rourke clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture of newfound respect. "You've got the makings of a real strategist, Leon. Maybe you missed your calling as a commander."
Leon's expression remained neutral. "I'm not interested in commanding. I'm interested in finishing this."
Rourke laughed heartily. "Fair enough. Let's get to work."
As Rourke left the tent to relay orders to his men, Leon remained standing by the table, his gaze fixed on the map in front of him. The plan was in motion, but the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders.
The lord was still out there, and every moment they delayed gave him a chance to regroup. Leon knew that this fight would not be won easily, but he had no intention of backing down. Too many lives were at stake—too many had already been lost.
As he stared at the map, plotting the course of their next move, Leon felt a steely resolve settle over him. The path ahead was dangerous, but he was no stranger to danger.
The lord's reign was coming to an end.
And Leon would make sure of it.