Under the midday sun casting long shadows across Kisor's main square, life pulsed through the town. But as Zidan wandered through the alleys, something peculiar caught his attention - a group of children, some native Kisorians and others refugees, engaged in chaotic play. They ran haphazardly, tossing a small cloth ball aimlessly and colliding in glorious disarray. To his eyes, these appeared as "foolish games" compared to what he knew.
A smile touched Zidan's lips as memories of Earth's childhood and his love for football surfaced. "What if..." he mused.
Approaching the children, who froze in surprise at seeing their young Baron mingling so casually, Zidan greeted them warmly: "Hello little ones! What are you playing?"
A small boy clutching the cloth ball answered, "Just playing, Lord Baron!"
"Do you enjoy it?" Zidan asked.
"It's fun but too messy," another child admitted, rubbing his head.
"How about I teach you a new game?" Zidan proposed, eyes twinkling. "One requiring skill, coordination, and loads of fun?"
The children exchanged curious glances. "What is it, Lord Baron?"
"It's called 'football'," Zidan explained. "We'll split into teams. The goal is to get the ball into the other team's net using only our feet - no hands! Highest score wins!"
As Zidan outlined basic rules - passing, defending, shooting - initial confusion gave way to infectious enthusiasm. Soon children were mimicking his moves, chasing the ball with laughter erupting whenever someone scored. Zidan ran among them, laughing and coaching, this moment of innocent joy reminding him of happiness' simplicity and a leader's need to connect with his people.
From a distance, Zidan's loyal maid Leila observed quietly, a faint smile touching her lips as she watched her lord play like any common child. This was a side of him she'd never seen.
Gathering parents - both locals and refugees - watched this strange spectacle with mixed reactions. Some whispered anxiously: "Is the Baron well?" while longtime residents reassured: "Lord Zidan has a kind heart - this is just his way of bridging distances."
Curious youths soon joined until the game became a proper match filled with laughter and friendly rivalry. In the children's eyes, Zidan saw sparks of hope that hadn't existed before his arrival.
Returning to the palace that evening pleasantly sore but heart-lightened, Zidan found Master Rogo and Marion awaiting him with grave expressions.
Urgent Battlefield Reports
"Lord Baron," Marion began urgently, "Our spies report fierce ongoing battles at Al-Manara between Royal Duke Yannis and Duke Friedrich's forces. No decisive outcome yet, but fighting is brutal."
Zidan stiffened but remained calm. "What else?"
"More troubling news, my lord." Marion unfolded a small map. "Friedrich's forces, collaborating with Baron Serot - whose town lies just 31 kilometers from us - plan simultaneous attacks on Kisor and our neighbor Baron Ryunak."
Zidan's eyes widened. Thirty-one kilometers was dangerously close.
"Friedrich has sent Serot substantial reinforcements," Marion continued. "About 2,500 troops under his third commander, Rick. Combined with Serot's 1,000, their joint force approaches 3,500."
"And they believe we have only 800 soldiers, correct?" Zidan asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Yes, my lord," Marion confirmed. "That's their intelligence."
"And Ryunak?"
"His town Lyongi is their secondary target after Kisor. His forces are too few to resist."
Zidan exhaled. The direct threat he'd anticipated had arrived.
"One more development, my lord." Marion's tone held surprise. "Prince Leo and Prince Geral clashed at Al-Akikiyah in the central region south of the capital."
Zidan stiffened. Internal conflict at this critical hour?
"Prince Leo's 150 elite troops fought Prince Geral's 180 special forces," Marion explained. "Fierce fighting ended when Princess Lira personally intervened."
As Zidan exchanged glances with Rogo, he recognized the kingdom crumbling from within and without. But he remained composed. Kisor was prepared.
"Master Rogo, is the cannon operational?" Zidan asked.
"Fully ready, Lord Baron!" Rogo confirmed enthusiastically.
"Marion, double our spy network's efforts. We need precise intelligence on Rick and Serot's movements. Sifara must prepare our forces. The time has come."
At Baron Serot's Camp
Elsewhere in Baron Serot's camp, celebration reigned. The obese, red-faced noble grinned broadly as Duke Friedrich's promised reinforcements arrived.
"Commander Rick! Perfect timing!" Serot boomed, embracing Friedrich's third-in-command.
The muscular, cold-eyed Rick replied, "I came for victory, Baron Serot. With my 2,500 elite troops and your 1,000, we now field 3,500 soldiers - more than enough to crush that petty Viscount Zidan."
Serot's laughter bellowed across the camp. "That upstart thinks he has 800 troops! He won't know what hit him! Join me tonight, Commander - we'll drink to our coming victory!"
Rick's malicious smile mirrored Serot's. "After we take Kisor and Lyongi, Duke Friedrich will make you a Marquis under his rule. You'll govern vast new lands!"
Serot's grin stretched wider. Marquis! Beyond his wildest dreams. Kisor would be just the beginning.
Kisor's true test was coming.