The firelight flickered weakly, casting shifting shadows across the walls of the shelter. Ardyn sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening his dagger with slow, deliberate strokes. Across the fire, Calden fidgeted with the bundle of scrap he'd salvaged, his movements quick and nervous. The silence between them was heavy, a tension that hadn't eased since their uneasy alliance began.
"So," Calden said finally, his voice cutting through the quiet. "You gonna tell me what this is all about? Or am I just following you into a hole?"
Ardyn didn't look up from his dagger. "You're not following me into anything. You're working for yourself—same as me."
"That doesn't answer the question."
Ardyn paused, the whetstone hovering over the blade. He met Calden's gaze, his grey eyes cold and calculating. "What do you think this city is, Calden?"
Calden blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
"This place," Ardyn said, gesturing vaguely at the crumbling walls around them. "Drakmoor. The guilds. The slums. What does it look like to you?"
Calden frowned, his expression darkening. "A nightmare."
"Exactly," Ardyn said, returning to his work. "It's a nightmare. A machine that chews people up and spits out corpses. If you're lucky, you die quick. If you're not..." He didn't finish the thought.
"And you think you can change that?" Calden asked, his tone skeptical.
"No," Ardyn said flatly. "I don't care about changing it. I just want to carve out a piece of it for myself. A piece where no one can touch me."
The fire crackled in the silence that followed. Calden stared at Ardyn, his expression a mix of curiosity and unease. "And you need me for that?"
"I need people," Ardyn corrected. "People who can fight, build, and survive. You happen to be the first one I found."
Calden let out a bitter laugh. "Lucky me."
By the time the fire burned low, the air inside the shelter had grown colder. Ardyn stood, stretching his stiff muscles. His body still ached from the fight with Garrin's thugs, but the pain was a dull throb now, manageable.
"We're moving tomorrow," he said, breaking the silence.
Calden looked up, startled. "Moving? To where?"
"This place isn't safe," Ardyn said, gesturing around the shelter. "It's temporary. We need something better—more defensible. I scouted a spot a few days ago. An old watchtower near the edge of the district. It's abandoned, but it'll need work."
"And you think we can just take it?" Calden asked.
Ardyn's lips curled into a grim smile. "Not without a fight."
The watchtower loomed ahead, its silhouette stark against the ash-laden sky. The structure was ancient, built during Drakmoor's early days when the city's rulers still feared rebellion. Now, it was little more than a ruin, its walls cracked and overgrown with vines.
But even in its decay, it held potential. The upper floors were still intact, offering a vantage point over the surrounding district. The lower level could be fortified, turned into a proper base. Ardyn's mind raced with possibilities as he approached, Calden trailing behind him.
"Looks abandoned," Calden said, his voice low.
"It's not," Ardyn replied. He gestured toward the faint signs of activity around the base of the tower—trampled grass, scattered debris, and a faint trail of smoke rising from the other side.
Calden cursed under his breath. "Bandits?"
"Most likely," Ardyn said. "Four or five, judging by the tracks. Not enough to be a real threat, but enough to make this messy."
"And your plan?" Calden asked.
Ardyn glanced at him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "We kill them."
They approached the tower under the cover of dusk, using the long shadows to mask their movements. Ardyn's mind worked quickly, the new Tactical Awareness skill from the System offering insights he hadn't expected. The positioning of the tracks suggested a loose perimeter, with one sentry patrolling the area.
System Notification:
Optional Task: Neutralize Bandit Sentry Efficiently. Reward: Enhanced Stealth (Tier 1).
Ardyn crouched low, his eyes scanning the darkened landscape. The sentry appeared moments later—a wiry man with a rusted spear slung over his shoulder. He moved lazily, his posture relaxed. A mistake.
"Stay here," Ardyn whispered to Calden, who nodded nervously.
Ardyn moved like a shadow, each step deliberate and silent. The dagger in his hand felt like an extension of his arm, its weight familiar. He closed the distance quickly, slipping behind the sentry and clamping a hand over the man's mouth. The dagger slid into his neck with practiced precision, and the sentry crumpled without a sound.
Task Complete. Efficiency: 92%. Reward Allocated.
Reward: Enhanced Stealth (Tier 1).
The faint warmth of the System's reward flowed through him, sharpening his movements and instincts. He wiped the blade clean and returned to Calden.
"Done," he said simply. "Let's move."
The bandits had made camp on the ground floor of the tower, their small fire casting flickering light across the crumbling walls. Four of them sat around the flames, laughing and passing a bottle between them. Weapons lay scattered nearby—daggers, clubs, and a single bow propped against the wall.
"Four," Calden whispered. "We can't take them all at once."
"We won't have to," Ardyn replied, his mind already forming a plan. "I'll draw them out. You stay here and cover me. Use that bow if they get too close."
Calden hesitated. "You're trusting me with this?"
Ardyn's gaze hardened. "No. I'm trusting you not to die. There's a difference."
Before Calden could respond, Ardyn stepped into the light of the fire. The bandits froze, their laughter dying as they turned toward him.
"Evening," Ardyn said, his voice calm. "Nice place you've got here."
One of the bandits—a burly man with a scar running down his face—rose to his feet, his hand drifting toward a dagger. "Who the hell are you?"
"Someone who needs this place more than you do," Ardyn replied. "So, here's the deal: you leave, and I don't kill you."
The bandits exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. The scarred man stepped closer, his grin widening. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But you're outnumbered, boy."
Ardyn's smirk didn't falter. "Am I?"
The scarred man's grin faded as Calden's arrow thudded into the dirt at his feet. Ardyn moved in the same instant, his dagger flashing as he lunged at the nearest bandit. The man screamed as the blade found his throat, blood spraying across the firelight.
The remaining bandits scrambled for their weapons, but Ardyn was faster. He twisted around the scarred man's clumsy swing, driving his dagger into the man's ribs. Calden loosed another arrow, catching a third bandit in the shoulder. The last one turned to run, but Ardyn tackled him to the ground, slamming his head into the dirt until he stopped moving.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ardyn stood over the bodies, his chest heaving. Blood dripped from his blade, pooling on the cracked stone floor. He turned to Calden, who stared at him with wide eyes, his bow still in hand.
"You... you didn't need me," Calden said, his voice shaking.
"I did," Ardyn replied, wiping his dagger clean. "Because this wasn't just about the fight. It was about what comes after."
He gestured around the room, his expression cold. "This is ours now. And we're going to make it better."