The faint orange glow of dawn seeped through the cracked shutters of our rented room. The inn was humble, its walls thin enough that the muffled chatter of villagers waking to their routines reached me clearly. I sat at the edge of the wooden table, my fingers tracing absent patterns on its surface as I considered the steps ahead.
Haverstead wasn't much—a scattering of homes and shops clinging together in desperation. Its people were tired, worn down from endless raids. But I saw potential here. Not in the strength of its defenses, but in its desperation. Desperation could be shaped, directed.
Behind me, Myra leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, her posture casual, though I knew her mind was anything but. Lira sat on the room's single chair, her hands fiddling with the hem of her cloak as she glanced between me and Myra, waiting for instructions.
I straightened and turned to face them. "Lira," I said, my voice firm but calm, "I need you to speak with the chief again. This time, focus on their past battles—how they resisted the bandits, what tactics worked and what didn't. And..." I narrowed my gaze, emphasizing the weight of my words. "While you're at it, keep an eye on his inner circle. Look for cracks—disloyalty, dissent, anyone who might be working against him."
Her eyes widened briefly before she nodded, her lips pressing into a determined line. "I'll do my best, Lord Kendrin," she replied.
"I expect nothing less," I said, and turned to Myra.
She pushed off the wall, already anticipating her task. "I assume you want me to work the streets?"
A faint smile tugged at my lips. She knew me too well. "Exactly. Go around town, map out the surrounding area in detail. The hills, the forests, the paths—anything that could serve as an advantage or risk. And while you're at it..." I leaned forward slightly, holding her gaze.
"Make yourself known. Help where you can. Fix a roof, haul some supplies, patch up a wound. Build goodwill. These people are going to matter when we take control. We'll need their trust—or at least their dependence."
Her expression didn't shift, but I caught the flicker of approval in her eyes. "Understood," she said simply.
"Good," I said, stepping back toward the window. The sun was climbing higher now, casting a warm light over the village. "I'll be heading to the outskirts with Faco. If we're to eliminate these bandits, we need to understand their numbers and structure first."
_____
By mid-morning, Faco and I were on the narrow dirt path leading out of Haverstead. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Faco walked a few paces behind me, his usual nervous energy tempered by my presence. He wasn't much of a warrior, but his knack for slipping unnoticed through shadows had earned him a place by my side.
We reached the edge of the forest that bordered the village. I paused, scanning the area. The faint remnants of tracks—footsteps, dragged branches—spoke volumes. These bandits weren't careful. Sloppy. Overconfident. A weakness I would exploit.
It didn't take long to locate their base. Hidden in a natural clearing surrounded by dense trees, it wasn't much—tents, scattered supplies, and a few makeshift barricades. But the number of bodies milling about gave me pause. Over fifty, by my count. More than the chief had led me to believe.
"Fifty," Faco whispered, as if reading my thoughts. "Maybe more."
I nodded, my mind already turning over the possibilities. "You'll need to get closer," I said, keeping my voice low.
His head snapped toward me, his eyes wide. "Closer? I mean, I could, but..." He hesitated, glancing toward the camp.
"You're going to infiltrate their base," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Quietly. Gather whatever information you can—how they're organized, who's in charge, what supplies they have. Anything useful."
His lips parted as if to protest, but he stopped himself. Smart man. Still, I could see the doubt in his eyes, the fear clawing at his resolve.
I stepped closer, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder. "You can do this, Faco," I said, my voice steady. "I wouldn't ask if I thought otherwise."
His gaze met mine, and after a moment, he nodded. "Alright," he said, his voice shaky but determined. "I'll do it."
I watched as he disappeared into the trees, his footsteps light and deliberate. Then, I found a spot near a fallen log and sat, my back against the bark.
___
Waiting had never been my strength. I glanced at the faint shimmer of the status window as I called it up, scanning the list of unfamiliar "skills" and abilities the Crown of Shadows had bestowed upon me. Some were clear—enhanced perception, an unnatural resilience—but others were vague, their descriptions cryptic and incomplete.
It was strange. In my past life, I had barely considered power or authority. My years as a prince had been spent indulging in books and histories, tales of kingdoms and empires. The throne had seemed inevitable—a position of privilege, not responsibility. And so, I'd been careless. Nonchalant.
But now... Now, I burned. Not with anger or bitterness, but with a cold, relentless fire. My betrayal had reshaped me, reforged me into something new. This time, I would take my throne not as a privilege, but as a right. And this time, I would make them all kneel.
An hour passed. Then another. Doubt began to creep in. Had Faco been caught? Had I overestimated him? I rose to my feet, scanning the tree line. Just as I was about to move, a figure emerged from the shadows, panting and clutching at his side.
"Faco," I said, striding toward him.
He nodded quickly, his words tumbling out between breaths. "Almost... got caught... but I made it. The bandits... they're planning a full-scale infiltration at dusk. Three days from now."
I let out a slow breath, relief mixing with satisfaction. "Good work," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. His face lit up at the praise, his earlier fear replaced with a spark of confidence.
"Let's head back," I said.
_____
By nightfall, we returned to the inn. Myra and Lira were already waiting, seated around the table with maps and notes spread before them. They looked up as we entered, their expressions expectant.
I sat down, gesturing for Faco to join me. "Good work today," I said, glancing between them. "All of you. Now..." I clasped my hands, leaning forward as a wicked grin spread across my face.
"Shall we begin?."