The cool autumn breeze swept through Emberhold as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the settlement. The battle was approaching. Alexander could feel it—not just in the reports from his scouts, but in the hurried way his people moved, reinforcing walls, sharpening weapons, and securing supplies.
The mercenaries had stopped harassing villages. Now, they were regrouping for something bigger.
Mercenary Forces on the Move
Tyrell's scouts arrived near dusk, dust-covered and grim-faced.
"They've fortified their camp," Tyrell reported, unrolling a map. "Numbers are growing—at least a hundred now, maybe more. They're positioned near the old stone outpost."
Silas studied the map. "They're preparing for something decisive."
Alexander's jaw tightened. This was it. The mercenaries had spent weeks trying to strangle Emberhold with fear and isolation. Now, with their supply lines weakened and their position under threat, they were preparing for a final confrontation.
"We won't let them dictate the battlefield," Alexander said. "We strike first."
Elias grinned. "Now we're talking."
The Housing Shortage & Population Growth
Before the battle, there was another challenge to address—Emberhold's rapid expansion.
More settlers had arrived in recent days—refugees from villages caught between Emberhold and the mercenary forces, traders seeking opportunity, and displaced workers looking for stability. But while their numbers were welcome, their presence strained an already limited infrastructure.
Owen, overseeing construction, approached Alexander with a tired expression. "We don't have enough housing for everyone."
Alexander looked over the settlement. Several houses had been newly built, but they weren't enough. Many families were still in tents, makeshift wooden barracks, and even old supply sheds repurposed for shelter.
"How bad is it?" Alexander asked.
"We're building as fast as we can, but we're short on materials and manpower," Owen admitted. "If this keeps up, we'll have families sleeping outside when the real cold sets in."
Silas, who had been listening, spoke up. "We need to control this growth. We can't take in more people than we can support."
Alexander nodded. Expansion had to be managed carefully. For now, the solution was temporary barracks—quickly built wooden structures that could house multiple families until permanent homes were constructed.
"Divert some workers from other projects to speed up construction," Alexander ordered. "We'll need everyone focused on this after the battle."
Owen nodded. "I'll make it happen."
Final Preparations
With the housing issue temporarily stabilized, Alexander turned his attention to military preparations.
The first warriors were fully armed with black-metal weapons. The battlefield would be their first true test.
Elias oversaw drills in the training yard, testing the warriors' new swords, spears, and axes against standard iron weapons.
The results were clear:
Black-metal swords cut through iron easily.Spears made from the new metal pierced wooden shields effortlessly.Armor forged from the material resisted damage far better than steel.
Alexander observed in silence. This wasn't just an advantage—it was a revolution in warfare.
"We're ready," Elias said. "Now we just need to crush them."
The Plan for Battle
Alexander, Elias, Silas, and Tyrell gathered around the war table.
"The mercenaries are dug in at the old stone outpost," Alexander said, studying the map. "That means they have defenses, but it also means they can't move freely."
Silas tapped the map. "We force them into a mistake."
Alexander nodded. "We let them think they have the advantage. They outnumber us, so they expect us to stay defensive. Instead, we hit them first."
Elias grinned. "Ambush?"
"Ambush."
Tyrell smirked. "We can use the terrain—force their cavalry into a bottleneck, cut off their retreat, and strike their flanks."
Alexander's gaze was sharp. "We isolate and destroy them in sections. They think they're fighting a single battle, but we'll break them down into three smaller ones."
Silas exhaled. "This will work."
"It will," Alexander said. "Because it has to."
The Weight of Leadership
That night, as the warriors sharpened their weapons and readied their armor, Alexander stood alone by the forge. The black-metal sword Gareth had crafted lay before him, dark and polished, its surface seeming to absorb the torchlight.
He ran a hand over its cold edge. Tomorrow, it would be tested in real battle.
For weeks, they had fought to build something greater.
Tomorrow, they would fight to keep it.