“Hoyl?”

“Here, Sergeant!”

“Isabelle?”

“Here… Sergeant…” came a sullen voice, clearly still resentful of the Sergeant's recent promotion.

“Again, Isabelle?” The Sergeant’s voice was low and menacing.

“Here, Sergeant!” She corrected herself, though reluctantly.

“Alfred?”

“Here!!! Sergeant!!” Andy replied with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Galsworthy?”

“Here, Sergeant!”

…

…

…

The roll call continued until Sergeant Ubeus had named all fifty men under Andy’s command, plus an additional twenty-five called back from leave.

The newly promoted Sergeant was sterner than usual.

Understandable, Andy thought, given the extra work the upcoming Liberation Day festivities would bring and the potential for things to go wrong in his new position.

The Sergeant’s eyes swept over the assembled men.

He cleared his throat.

“Right… it’s Liberation Day.You all know what that means.No morning drills or exercises today.”

“Think about it. Festival. Drunks staggering around. Potential for robberies. Brawls. If we’re unlucky, we might even have to deal with a corpse or two. So, I’m doubling the patrols.”

“We have the extra manpower. I want us visible on the main thoroughfares and squares, especially Green-wood Square and around the taverns. Show of force, show of presence.”

“I’m sure all the orphans, vagrants, and ne'er-do-wells will be congregating, looking for opportunities.”

“Word is the Ijera Council will be making an announcement at midday, so we need to keep things orderly.”

Andy listened, disagreeing inwardly.

An orphan himself, he knew Green-wood Square was the domain of the Charles family and their enforcers.

In his experience, that noble house was more intertwined with criminal activity and far more dangerous than any street gang.

The Rodwa militia barracks weren't under the Charles family's jurisdiction, but everyone knew it was best not to interfere with their affairs.

Andy vividly recalled instances where individuals who caused trouble near Green-wood Square were swiftly and brutally dealt with by the Charles family's men.

No orphan or vagrant looking to avoid trouble would cause a scene in that area.

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Except, perhaps, for Andy himself.

He had always been reckless and stubborn, traits that still lingered.

As a child, he'd explore dangerous areas despite warnings, and even now, he was prone to impulsive acts.

But even reckless, stubborn Andy knew better than to pick a fight with the Charles family guards.

He remembered one close call, the coldness in their eyes making it clear they could kill a boy like him as easily as stepping on an ant.

The Sergeant ordering patrols in their territory meant the Charles family had sanctioned it, perhaps even requested it.

The reason, Andy couldn't fathom.

It was far above his pay grade.

“The cavalry units from Killebrown will be patrolling the area.

For everyone’s safety, do not impede or interfere with them,” the Sergeant said sternly.

“If you see them taking charge of a situation, use your amulets to call in and make sure everyone knows to leave them to it.

If they require assistance, assist them.

They might even have a griffin rider or two doing aerial patrols.”

The quality of the militia barracks across the Sabovala County varied.

Killebrown, where Sergeant Ubeus’s predecessor had been transferred, was the central hub.

Their barracks was a sprawling fortress with investigative branches, elite response units, cavalry, and all manner of specialized forces.

Other barracks had their own specialties.

Rodwa’s branch was one of the two least important in Sabovala.

They had nothing but regular militia.

The presence of Killebrown cavalry meant something was happening that was far beyond the purview of a regular soldier like him.

“Listen up for your assignments! Botson, I want you and your squad patrolling the road in from Killebrown town.Leave the cart and caravan searches to the cavalry, just patrol.”

The Sergeant barked orders.

“Sahar, your squad is on rescue duty.Reinforcements and rescue as needed.”

“Isabelle… you’re on Green-wood Square. Your squad is to remain there at all times, keep the riff-raff under control, and support the Charles family as needed. Valgorius…”

Andy tuned out the rest of Sergeant Ubeus’s orders.

One fact stuck in his mind.

Corporal Isabelle’s squad, which included him, would be stationed at the Square.

In Andy’s memory, the militia rarely set foot in the Square.

It was primarily the Charles family’s domain.

There had been one occasion when a few clueless militiamen lingered too long and were quickly warned off by the Charles family's men.

Against his better judgment, Andy knew that the militia, including himself, would likely be expected to turn a blind eye to whatever the Charles family was doing, no matter how suspicious.

It seemed today would be no different.

Mount Tuck’r’hill loomed, overlooking Green-wood Square.

Rodwa, the inland town, nestled against the mountain like a child in its mother’s arms.

The mountain’s bulk acted as a wall, preventing expansion, perhaps one reason for the town’s poverty. The Charles family controlled Green-wood Square and the Tuck’r’hill’s Cup tavern built into the mountainside.

The tavern was a strange place, with a constant flow of unusual people coming and going.

Rumors circulated about the Charles family digging tunnels through the mountain for smuggling operations.

Wilder rumors claimed any desire, no matter how perverse, could be satisfied within.

Of course, with the Charles family's standing, no one dared investigate, especially when it involved the nobility.

Strange and powerful-looking individuals were often seen entering and exiting the tavern, the numbers rarely matching.

Entry was undoubtedly by invitation only, no local having the honor.

A town and economy had sprung up around the tavern, catering to its needs, yet the town's militia and other locals were barred from entry.

Andy and his partner, Galsworthy, stood at the edge of the square, scrutinizing everyone who entered.

The square was filling up, most heading towards the various stalls set up within Green-wood Square.

The stalls buzzed with activity.

“Man… that roasted meat looks good! Andy… you think those Charles family shadow guards would mind if I grabbed something from a stall?” Galsworthy asked, eyes fixed on the roasting meat.

Andy shot him a warning look.

“If you want to keep your fingers, don’t even think about it. Stealing from the Square merchants is the same as stealing from the Baron himself. The weakest of their shadow guards are expert-level combatants.” Andy replied sternly.

He spoke from experience, having learned his lesson the hard way as a child.

Galsworthy was new to the town militia, and Andy’s warning was out of courtesy.

It was the man’s first time working the Square.

Andy remembered, from his orphan days, witnessing the rare act of thievery.

The thief was caught swiftly.

He was certain the Charles family had someone with sensory skills watching everything.