Although nothing was happening, the strong emotions kept Javohir awake. He marched slowly across the wall, looking into the slowly diminishing darkness surrounding the whole structure. He could clearly see the burning campfire among dozens of tents belonging to the rats from Ankhelis.

They had their guards stationed on the outskirts of their encampment, keeping a close eye on the fort. Although his idea of how things worked on the other side was at best blurry, he had this feeling that the movement between the tents was slightly too brisk for a regular night, which kept his eyes open.

The stars above his head began vanishing as the sun started to slowly approach the line of the horizon. When it finally appeared, he started to relax, as in his mind, the attack could only happen during the night.

When the whole area was basking in the warm, dim light of inevitably approaching morning, the tension was completely gone.

‘Maybe they will leave? Maybe all they did was buy more time to make up their minds,’ he began to wonder as he paused his march, like many times before.

The cool wind was ruffling his hair and bringing a chilling sensation. All the walking made him sweaty, and so early the weather was nowhere near as hot as during the day, which combined with the gusts could be even called chilly. At first, he didn’t notice that his eyes caught more of the movement among the tents, but when he did, his mind got flooded with more thoughts.

‘Are they packing up? They can't take the fort with their numbers, so it’s the most obvious outcome. Why stay here and just watch? It’s pointless,’ he concluded.

The original idea slowly but surely began to be proved wrong, as he didn’t register any signs of the soldiers on the other side collecting anything. Instead, a larger group of probably two dozen men headed to the outskirts of their camp.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Javohir asked himself.

"What the hell is going on?" A familiar tone voiced his thoughts for him.

As the Exalonian looked to the side, he saw Brish approaching, with his eyes fixed on the same scene he just observed. "What is going on in there? Are they leaving?" the former nobleman asked.

"No," Javohir shook his head. "I thought that too, but nobody is packing. It appears that their leaders went to the edge of the camp," he informed. "It appears as if… As if they are waiting… Looking for something to come," as he said those words, his eyes shifted back to the enemy forces.

"Fuck," Brish cursed because he was able to see the same thing the Exalonian was witnessing, standing just next to him.

Many men appeared from behind the line of the horizon. They were clearly soldiers, and they came with supplies. A large force brought carts with food and weapons, enough to continue the siege. At least that is how it appeared initially, but the more they stood there, the clearer it became that the numbers on the enemy side were enough to continue with the siege.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" another voice came from the side, luring both of them to look that way.

Although Javohir was unfamiliar with the man, he had seen him a few times and overheard his name. It was the captain of the fort, who had passed the leadership to Brish. His name was Igo Warn.

His attire, a long and sturdy padded coat adorned with patches of leather, marked him as a warrior. A sword hung by his side. His nearly bald head, save for a peculiar patch of hair just above his forehead, lent him an unusual appearance in the eyes of the Exalonian.

"Yes. It doesn’t look good," Brish agreed.

The man joined the two of them, staring in silence at the camp ahead for a moment.

"Will they attack tonight?" Javohir decided to break the silence.

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"Probably not," Igo replied. "The march must have been exhausting. They will need a day or two, but they will attack us with those numbers. Hopefully, they didn’t bring materials to make more of those bloody machines."

"We will see. If they did, they will begin working on it immediately," Brish added. "We need to prepare for the attack. They carved a hole through our wall and want to use it to get inside."

"We need to send a message to the pirates while we still can," Igo announced.

Brish gave him a peculiar look before his gaze shifted to Javohir. "Go and get some rest. There are soldiers ready to replace you. Eat something and go to sleep. You earned yourself a good rest."

The Exalonian nodded before he left. It was obvious that the order came only so he would leave the two alone, but the young man didn’t feel in a position to try refusing. Instead, still thinking about the incoming attack, he kept wondering what could be done.

With those thoughts, he joined others eating breakfast. He sat by Reul’s side, who also got replaced on guard duty, but they didn’t speak. They sat on two empty stumps near one of the fires with wooden bowls full of goulash, a big piece of bread sticking out, and wooden spoons, then began shoveling the meal into their mouths.

As he ate, Javohir began drawing something on the ground with his shoe. He tried to make a fort and the enemy lines but ended up unhappy with the outcome, so he scratched it. He then attempted to represent the strategy of the enemy forces with the archers approaching from the east, while the infantry charged at the southern wall, where the hole was.

‘If they have a catapult, they won't attack. They will defend it until they knock the wall. Then they will come,’ he realized, which prompted him to scratch the drawing again.

For a moment, he tried to figure out what could happen, but then, among the few who were gathered nearby, sitting or standing in small groups, a new face appeared.

"At least they didn’t bring the catapult," the soldier announced, prompting a few of his comrades to approach him to hold a conversation.

Javohir only glanced at them before his eyes returned to the disrupted soil, his makeshift canvas.

‘So no catapult… They will probably move to the old strategy then. They might succeed with the advantage in numbers. The fort is reinforced, but they still are stronger than us,’ he pondered. ‘How can I help? How can I contribute? This is what Bruno would do, so I should do the same...’

As he thought about it, the image of The Grand Strategy appeared in his mind, with the words spoken by the young alchemist echoing in his mind. ‘The war is more complicated than this game, but this game can teach you about planning your moves, and anticipating the plans of your enemy.’

This was enough for Javohir to draw a few representations of the pieces used in the game. He didn’t make the board for them and barely could even discern the figures as he was doing everything on the spot, but he ended up with two archers on the left side and a row of footmen ahead, with the forces of Zoulan represented by slightly fewer numbers of infantry with the same amount of archers.

He stared at it long enough for Raul’s gaze to shift to the peculiar sketch in the wet sand.

"What are you doing?" he asked after a moment of staring since he couldn’t figure it out by himself.

"I’m thinking of strategy," Javohir revealed. "I want to contribute with more than just my fists."

"You know anything about battles and armies?" the tall young man didn’t hide his surprise.

"No… Not really. Bruno showed me this game, which was supposed to teach me something. But I don’t get it," he sighed. "All I remember is that the footmen can’t attack what is in front of them, but can instead strike diagonally." As he spoke those words, his eyes went wide.

He jumped to his feet, dropping the empty bowl and the spoon, then started running. He sprinted across the whole center of the fort looking around in a rush, trying to find Brish. At first, he couldn’t spot him, but then he realized that the captain could still be at the wall, so his eyes shifted up, and there he spotted the two leaders, clearly arguing about something.

He rushed to the closest stairs which allowed him to climb on the wall. Then he sprinted to join them, rendering both silent as they saw him dashing at them. Panting heavily, Javohir tried to speak, but he realized he needed a moment, so he ended up only raising his hand before focusing on regulating his breathing.

"What do you want?" Brish asked with a frowned brow.

"We are busy discussing important matters, soldier. You got an order to rest," Igo growled at him.

"I… I know what to do." Javohir announced, as he finally was able to squeeze it out. "I know what to do if they attack us. I have a plan."

"Soldiers do not plan wars. They fight them," Brish pointed out. "Now leave the strategy to us, who have some idea about it."

"Please, captain. Listen..."

"I told you to go and get some rest," a tone hard as iron emerged in Brish’s voice.

"You misjudged Bruno when he came here for the first time. You know it because you know what he already did. Now you are about to misjudge me. At least let me tell you what I came up with," the Exalonian, with a furrowed brow, stood his ground.

The answer didn’t come immediately. First, the shadow of anger obscured Brish’s face. His jaw muscles tensed, making it appear as if he was about to snap. Fortunately, it all passed, and he relaxed. "Fine. Speak."