Day 23
The morning after the raid, the camp stirred earlier than usual. News of the Baron's supply convoy spread quickly among the settlers, and the sight of the salvaged weapons added fuel to their determination. Alexander Maxwell stood near the fire, his dark eyes scanning the growing settlement.
Their raid had been a success, but the grim discovery of chains and manacles in the wagons lingered in his mind. Slaves. The word burned like a brand.
Tyrell approached, his spear slung across his shoulder. "We should've checked further down the road," he said. "If they're moving slaves, there's a good chance they didn't just send chains."
Alexander nodded, his mind already working. "We're going back."
Elias, sharpening his blade nearby, raised an eyebrow. "Back? What if they've reinforced the area?"
"We'll move fast," Alexander replied. "If there are people in chains, we're not leaving them behind."
Gathering the Team
Alexander quickly assembled a team for the mission: himself, Elias, Tyrell, Lyra, and Gareth. Silas stayed behind to oversee the camp's defenses, ensuring the settlers would be prepared if anything happened while they were away.
"This time, we're not just raiding," Alexander said as they prepared to leave. "We're liberating anyone we find."
Clara approached with a satchel of food, her expression serious. "If you find anyone, they'll need care when you bring them back. Supplies are tight, but we'll manage."
Alexander placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll make it work. Thank you."
Following the Trail
The group retraced their steps through the forest, their movements swift and purposeful. The scorched remnants of the convoy were a grim reminder of their previous success, but Alexander's focus was on the tracks leading away from the site.
"They moved south," Lyra said, crouching near the faint wheel ruts in the dirt. "A larger wagon, heavier load."
"Slaves," Gareth muttered, his grip tightening on his hammer.
Alexander motioned for the group to follow. "We'll catch up to them before nightfall."
The Prisoners
As dusk settled over the forest, the team spotted their quarry. A single wagon, reinforced with iron bars, creaked along the narrow road. Armed guards flanked the wagon, their torches casting flickering light across the surrounding trees.
Alexander signaled for the team to halt. From their vantage point, they could see the prisoners crammed inside the wagon—men and women in tattered clothes, their wrists bound by chains.
"We take out the guards first," Alexander whispered. "Quick and silent."
Elias grinned, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "My kind of fight."
Tyrell rolled his shoulders, his spear glinting in the torchlight. "Let's move."
The Liberation
The team struck with precision. Lyra's arrows flew true, dropping two guards before they could sound the alarm. Tyrell and Gareth charged in next, their weapons cutting through the remaining guards with brutal efficiency.
Alexander and Elias moved to the wagon, dispatching the driver and smashing the lock on the cage door. The prisoners inside looked up, their expressions a mix of fear and hope.
"You're free," Alexander said, his voice steady but urgent. "Stay low and follow us. We'll get you to safety."
One of the prisoners, a broad-shouldered man with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward. "Who are you?"
"Friends," Alexander replied. "We'll explain everything later, but for now, we need to move."
Returning to the Camp
The journey back was slower than expected, the freed prisoners struggling to keep pace after days of confinement. Gareth and Tyrell took turns carrying the weaker ones, while Lyra and Elias scouted ahead for any signs of pursuit.
By the time they reached the camp, dawn was breaking. The sight of the settlement brought tears to some of the prisoners' eyes—hope was a foreign concept they hadn't dared to dream of.
Clara rushed forward as the group entered the clearing, her eyes widening at the sight of the newcomers. "You found them," she breathed.
Alexander nodded, helping a frail woman down from Tyrell's arms. "They'll need food, water, and rest. Set up space in the communal shelter for now."
Integrating the Freed Slaves
Over the next few hours, the settlers worked tirelessly to care for the freed prisoners. Clara and Jacob distributed food and water, while Mira helped bandage wounds. Gareth repurposed some of the salvaged materials from the convoy to reinforce the shelter and provide additional bedding.
As the newcomers recovered, Alexander gathered them near the fire. "You're safe here," he said, his tone firm but welcoming. "This camp is a place for those who want to fight for their freedom. If you're willing to work, you'll have a home here."
The scarred man from the wagon—introduced as Marcus—stepped forward. "We owe you our lives. If you'll have us, we'll do whatever it takes to earn our place."
Alexander nodded. "Then you're one of us."
Strength in Numbers
The addition of the freed slaves brought the camp's population to thirty-five. Among them were skilled workers—Marcus had been a carpenter before his capture, and another prisoner, Elise, had knowledge of herbal medicine. Their skills were immediately put to use, strengthening the settlement's infrastructure and improving its self-sufficiency.
The system chimed softly in Alexander's mind.
[Territory Milestone Reached: Population Growth]
Reward: Unlock Third Idea for Path of Expansion.
[Path of Expansion: Third Idea Unlocked]
Idea 3: Settlement Harmony Active
Personal Buff: +10% charisma when negotiating or managing disputes.
Territory Buff: Settlers' productivity increases by 10% when working in coordinated groups.
The notification brought a faint smile to Alexander's lips. Their numbers were growing, but so was their cohesion.
Foreshadowing the Baron's Wrath
Far to the south, the Baron stood before a burning wagon, his cold eyes scanning the remains of his convoy. The report from his captain—a failed raid, dead guards, and freed slaves—had sent him into a quiet rage.
"They think they've won," the Baron muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "But this rebellion is nothing more than a spark. I'll snuff it out before it becomes a flame."
He turned to his gathered lieutenants, his expression hard as steel. "Double the patrols. Fortify the outposts. And prepare the main force. We march in three days."
The lieutenants saluted, their faces grim.
The Baron's gaze shifted to the horizon. "They'll regret ever crossing me."