The great hall of the keep was alive with laughter and the clatter of wooden bowls and metal spoons. Soldiers talked loudly, joking and sharing stories to drown out the fatigue of battle. The firelight danced across their armor, glinting like fading stars.
In another part of the keep, away from the noise, sat Valen, a fourteen-year-old sergeant. He was quietly finishing a bowl of warm soup in his small private quarters. The sound of laughter echoed faintly through the stone walls.
As soon as he put down his spoon, he reached for his sword, intending to clean the dried blood along its edge. But before he could start, there came a knock at his door — firm and hurried.
> "I'm sorry — is Sergeant Valen here?"
> "Yeah, what's the matter?" Valen answered, looking up.
> "Count Vidar requests your presence in his chamber."
> "Understood. I'll go right away."
Valen laid his sword aside, rose from his chair, and left his quarters.
As he walked through the narrow stone hallway, the echo of his boots was the only sound that accompanied his thoughts.
> Why would the Count summon me now?
Soon, he arrived before the Count's chamber door and knocked gently.
> "Excuse me — this is Valen."
> "Ah, Valen. Come in," came the familiar deep voice.
Valen stepped inside and found several officers gathered around a large wooden table spread with maps and parchments. Count Vidar stood among them, his expression serious yet calm.
> "Ah, so we're planning a strategy," Valen muttered.
> "That's right," the Count confirmed.
Valen approached and stood beside Evelyn, Vidar's niece, who smiled faintly as he joined.
Vidar began, "Sooner or later, Ionburg will learn that we've taken this castle. I must reach out to my forces before they move. According to Evelyn's reports, they are currently stationed under a Ramanovich general's watch — about four kilometers west of here. I plan to contact them, assure them of my safety, and order them to regroup with Duke Edward von Gooserian."
An officer with a neatly trimmed beard stepped forward. "My lord, what of this castle? If we abandon it unguarded, bandits could seize it before the sun rises again."
Vidar nodded slowly. "That's why I will only take Valen with me."
The room went silent. Several officers exchanged surprised glances.
> "Just him, my lord?" one officer spoke sharply. "You shouldn't travel with an amateur!"
> "An amateur?" Vidar turned, his voice steady. "You mean the boy who infiltrated this castle alone, defeated its guards, and saved my wife when a blade was pressed to her throat?"
The officer scoffed. "With all due respect, my lord, he's still a peasant boy. Luck may have favored him once, but relying on such fortune again is reckless. You're a noble — you should travel with an elite guard, not a child who got lucky."
Vidar's eyes narrowed. "Luck? That boy has more skill with a sword than you, Captain."
> "Uncle," Valen interrupted softly, "he's not entirely wrong. Guarding this castle is important. If you bring too few men, the rest will be vulnerable to bandits—"
> "Don't be like that, Valen," Vidar cut him off. "I trust you more than any of them."
The tension in the room was rising. The officer who had insulted Valen suddenly threw his leather glove across the table, landing it at Valen's feet.
> "Then let's settle this, boy," he said coldly. "Prove that you're worthy of accompanying our lord. I challenge you to a duel — unless, of course, you're too frightened."
The soldiers gasped, and Evelyn immediately stepped forward.
> "Wait — this is absurd!" she snapped.
> "Absurd? It's only fair," the officer replied with a smirk. "Let's see if this child can back his reputation."
Valen stood still for a moment, unsure whether to accept. Then, realizing that refusing would only disgrace both himself and Count Vidar, he bent down and picked up the glove.
> "I accept," he said quietly.
> "Valen, you don't have to—" Evelyn tried to stop him.
> "It's fine, Eve," he said with a faint smile. "I'll end this quickly."
---
Within an hour, word of the duel spread through the keep like wildfire. Soldiers crowded the training yard, eager to witness the confrontation. The winter air was sharp, and the sound of clanging armor filled the space.
Valen stood across from the officer, his steel helmet glinting in the afternoon sun. He drew his sword — lighter than the officer's broadsword, but faster.
The referee raised his hand.
> "Begin!"
The clash of steel erupted instantly. Valen moved swiftly, parrying the officer's heavy strikes. Sparks flew with every blow, and the crowd roared at the intensity of their exchange.
The officer pressed forward relentlessly, his attacks powerful but predictable. Valen deflected and countered, but the force behind each strike drove him backward, his boots scraping across the dirt.
A sudden thrust nearly broke his guard. Valen staggered, almost falling, but he caught himself — instincts saving him.
The duel raged on, their swords singing in rhythm. Valen waited, reading the officer's movements carefully. Then, in a flash, he swept his leg low — kicking the officer's knee and breaking his stance.
The crowd gasped as the officer stumbled back, barely keeping balance. Valen seized the moment and struck again, aiming for the shoulder — but the officer twisted, blocking at the last second.
The fight continued until both were panting, armor scratched and sweat dripping.
At last, the officer feigned a stumble — a trap. Valen lunged forward, and in that instant, the officer countered, slamming his fist into Valen's chest. The blow knocked Valen to the ground, and the officer's sword came down — stopping just at his neck.
The yard went silent.
Then, the officer extended his hand.
> "You fought well, boy," he said, his tone softer now. "That last counter of yours — few could have blocked it. You've earned my respect. Guard our lord well."
Valen accepted his hand, rising to his feet.
> "Thank you… I won't forget this duel. Nor your respect."
The soldiers cheered, breaking the silence. Even Evelyn exhaled in relief.
Count Vidar stepped forward, his proud smile visible.
> "A fine duel, Valen. You've proven yourself. He will stay to guard the castle — and you will come with me."
Valen nodded. "Understood, my lord."
---
Later that afternoon, Valen returned to his quarters, polishing his blade and tightening his gear. He had just finished when another knock came at the door.
> "Hey, Val, you inside?"
He recognized the voice instantly.
> "Yeah, come in."
The door creaked open, and Evelyn entered, carrying a small bowl of steaming soup.
> "Here," she said softly. "I know you'll be leaving soon, so I made this for you."
Valen blinked in surprise, smiling faintly. "Thank you, Eve. I'll eat it."
> "When you're done, just leave the bowl in the kitchen."
> "Got it."
She nodded and left quietly. Valen ate slowly, savoring the warmth. When he finished, sunlight streamed through the window.
> "It's already afternoon? I'd better go."
He placed the bowl in the kitchen and hurried to the courtyard. Count Vidar was already there, saddling his horse.
> "Ah, there you are," Vidar said. "Get your horse ready — the provisions are packed. We leave now."
> "Yes, sir."
Together, they rode out of the castle, the wind brushing past as they descended the road. The sky was bright and clear — a good omen for their journey.
> "The path is clear, uncle," Valen said.
> "Indeed. If it stays this way, we'll reach their camp by evening."
They rode faster, the rhythmic sound of hooves echoing through the valley. By twilight, they reached a hillside overlooking a large encampment — banners fluttering under the dimming light.
Count Vidar crouched behind a boulder, observing. "Hmm. No gaps in their formation. Their general knows how to establish a proper perimeter."
Valen studied the camp, his mind racing. "What if we send them a message — an arrow carrying a scroll with your seal and signature? They'll recognize it instantly."
Vidar raised an eyebrow. "And where would we shoot it? If any Ionburg officer finds it, we're dead men."
Valen pointed toward a well near the camp's center. "There. That's where soldiers fetch water. If your men are still among them, they'll find it first. It's our best chance."
Vidar smirked, impressed. "Clever boy. Very well, write the message and I'll add my mark."
As Vidar scribbled the note, Valen prepared the arrow. When the ink dried, the Count folded the parchment tightly and tied it beneath the arrowhead.
> "Ready?"
> "Ready."
Valen took aim, feeling the tension of the bowstring. The arrow flew through the dusk — silent and swift — disappearing into the camp below.
---
At the well, two Rockunstide soldiers were fetching water when they noticed something embedded in the dirt.
> "Hey, what's that?"
> "An arrow… with a scroll tied to it."
They exchanged confused looks, then unraveled the message. As their eyes reached the Count's seal — and the unmistakable crude doodle he used as a personal mark — they froze.
> "It's him," whispered one soldier. "Count Vidar lives!"
They sprinted back to camp, spreading the word like wildfire. Men gathered, disbelief turning to joy as the Count's signature passed from hand to hand.
By midnight, the camp was alive — not with celebration, but with silent purpose.
Some eliminated the Ionburg officers in their sleep. Others packed provisions, and one slipped into the general's tent, ending his life without a sound.
By dawn, smoke rose from the burning camp as thousands of Rockunstide soldiers marched toward the valley.
There, under the rising sun, they saw it — their banner, fluttering proudly against the wind. Count Vidar stood before it, his figure bathed in gold light, with Valen at his side.
> "My soldiers!" Vidar's voice thundered across the valley. "I have returned from captivity — thanks to this brave sergeant here!"
He placed a firm hand on Valen's shoulder.
> "Comrades! Ionburg has trampled our honor. But no longer! We march under Gooserian's banner — to reclaim our pride!"
> "AU! AU! AU!"
The soldiers' roar echoed through the valley — a cry of loyalty, fury, and rebirth.
With the Rockunstide ten-thousand joining Gooserian's ranks, the balance of the civil war had finally shifted.
The end was near