The road through the village was quiet, but Kael's thoughts churned with the weight of his newly acquired information.
The Ironbloods would arrive in two days.
Two days wasn't much time.
But it was enough.
Kael's gaze swept over the villagers, studying them more closely. There was something in their eyes—something he had seen before.
Hopelessness.
These people were already dead inside.
If he wanted to turn the tide, Kael needed more than strength.
He needed them to remember how to fight.
And to do that… he would have to scare them first.
The First Step: The Right Fear
Kael didn't need the villagers to be brave.
He needed them to fear him more than they feared the Ironbloods.
He strode toward the village square—a dusty, open space with a dry, crumbling well at its center. Children played listlessly in the dirt, while women scrubbed clothes in basins.
They acted as if life was normal.
As if they didn't know they were doomed.
Kael stopped in the middle of the square.
And he spoke.
"You've been domesticated."
His words cut through the quiet like a blade.
Heads turned, villagers pausing their tasks to look at him, confusion and irritation plain on their faces.
"What did you say, boy?" one man growled, stepping forward. He was thin, his face worn by hardship, but his voice carried an edge of defiance.
Kael met his glare without flinching.
"I said, you're cattle. Waiting for slaughter."
Anger flared in the man's eyes.
Good.
His fists clenched. "You don't know what we've been through."
Kael tilted his head slightly.
"No? Then tell me."
The man hesitated. Kael already knew the answer.
They didn't fight back because they thought it was useless.
Because no one had ever fought for them.
Because they had accepted defeat as their only option.
Kael's lips curved into a faint, cold smile.
"The Ironbloods will be here in two days."
A hush fell over the square, the tension palpable.
Kael continued.
"And I'm going to kill them."
Silence.
And then, laughter.
Harsh, bitter laughter broke out among the villagers, their faces twisted with disbelief. A boy, standing alone, talking about killing an entire gang?
Kael didn't laugh.
He unsheathed his dagger and drove it into the ground at his feet.
"You're laughing because you think it's impossible," he said, his voice cutting through their mirth.
He let them laugh.
Until they saw the truth.
Kael raised his left hand slowly.
Dark energy began to gather, swirling like smoke, coalescing into a pulsing, black lotus that floated in the air.
The laughter died.
Eyes widened in shock.
Now… they saw him.
Kael's gaze swept over the crowd, cold and unyielding.
"You can kneel and wait for death…"
The Shadow Lotus spun slowly in the air, emanating a suffocating aura.
"…Or you can stand and take back what's yours."
Their fear now belonged to him.
And Kael would use it to reignite their fire.
The Second Step: A Strategy for War
Kael didn't need the villagers to fight.
He needed them to set the stage.
In the dimly lit tavern, Kael unrolled the map he had taken from the dead bandits. A few men gathered cautiously around him, their curiosity piqued despite their fear.
They wanted to know if the boy actually had a plan.
And he did.
"How many bandits usually come?" Kael asked, not looking up from the map.
The old merchant from earlier, who had watched him silently in the square, finally spoke.
"Twenty. Sometimes more."
Kael nodded, his mind working quickly.
Twenty men against a village of broken souls.
He needed to level the playing field.
Pointing to the map, he identified the village's entrances.
"They always come through the main gate?"
"Yes."
"And the next largest entry?"
"The east gate, near the mill."
Kael smirked faintly.
Two predictable entry points.
Perfect.
He turned to the men around him.
"You're not going to fight them. You're going to prepare the battlefield for me."
They exchanged uncertain glances.
Kael didn't need their bravery.
He needed their desperation.
And desperation was a powerful motivator.
The Third Step: Planting the Seed of Rebellion
By nightfall, the village was alive with activity.
Villagers patched holes in fences, hammered spikes into the ground, and positioned barrels of oil at key locations.
Kael moved among them, inspecting their work with a critical eye.
He didn't need to draw his blade yet.
The true battle was happening here.
Slowly, the villagers began to believe.
And belief was more powerful than any weapon.
When the Ironbloods arrived, they wouldn't find a helpless village.
They would find a nightmare waiting for them.
Kael stood at the edge of the square, watching the villagers work. A faint smile played on his lips as he surveyed their progress.
The first piece of the game was in place.
Now…
It was time for checkmate.