The snow had stopped falling, leaving the forest heavy with a deafening stillness. The rebels trudged back toward the valley, their faces etched with exhaustion and unease. The ambush had shaken them—not just because of the mercenaries, but because of Dane’s betrayal.

Juri Winkler walked at the front of the column, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the path ahead. His mind churned with questions: How long had Dane been planning this? How much had he told the nobles? Most importantly: How much time did they have before the next attack?

Kira broke the silence, falling into step beside him. “You think that was all of them?”

“No,” Juri said without hesitation. “That was just the beginning.”

The rebels returned to the valley under a cloud of anxiety. News of the ambush spread quickly through the camp, fueling the unease that had been building since the raid on Greystone. Conversations grew hushed, glances grew sharper, and trust became a fragile thing.

Halrick gathered the core leadership—Juri, Kira, Garrick, and a few others—in the main tent that served as their command center. The fire crackled in the center of the room, casting flickering shadows over the faces of the weary rebels.

“We need to talk about what just happened,” Halrick began, his voice rough but steady. “Dane didn’t just betray us. He endangered everyone here. If the nobles know where we are, this valley won’t hold.”

Garrick nodded. “We need to assume the nobles will retaliate—and soon. The question is, how do we prepare?”

Kira leaned forward, her arms resting on the table. “We can’t just sit here and wait for them to come. If they send another force like the Sentinels, we won’t survive a direct assault.”

Juri remained silent, his gaze fixed on the map spread across the table. His fingers traced the lines marking the valley’s natural defenses, his mind racing with possibilities.

“We don’t wait,” Juri said finally. “We take the fight to them.”

The others exchanged uneasy glances.

“You’re serious?” Halrick asked. “After everything we’ve lost, you want to attack?”

“Yes,” Juri said firmly. “Dane’s betrayal was a setback, but it also exposed a weakness. The nobles think they’re safe behind their lines. They think we’re too weak to strike again. We need to prove them wrong.”

Juri laid out his strategy with characteristic precision.

“Our target is a staging ground east of Greystone,” he began, pointing to a marked location on the map. “It’s where the nobles are assembling their forces for the next wave of attacks. If we hit them there, we cut off their reinforcements and buy ourselves time.”

Kira frowned. “That’s a big ‘if.’ Do we even know how many soldiers they have stationed there?”

“We don’t need to know,” Juri replied. “We’re not going to fight them head-on. This will be a sabotage mission. We infiltrate, plant charges, and destroy their supplies before they can mobilize.”

“And what about their mages?” Garrick asked. “If they catch us, we won’t make it out alive.”

Juri’s smirk was faint but confident. “That’s why I’ve been working on something new.”

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He stepped away from the table and gestured toward a tarp-covered object in the corner of the tent. With a dramatic flourish, he pulled the tarp away, revealing a sleek, compact machine equipped with four spindly legs and a mounted Repeater.

“This is a Scout Walker,” Juri said. “It’s small enough to navigate tight spaces, fast enough to outrun most threats, and armed with enough firepower to handle anything that gets too close. We’ll use it to clear a path and create distractions.”

The rebels stared at the machine, their expressions a mix of awe and skepticism.

“You built this in a week?” Halrick asked.

Juri shrugged. “Had some spare parts lying around.”

The announcement of Juri’s plan sent ripples through the camp. Some rebels were eager to strike back at the nobles, their anger outweighing their fear. Others, still shaken by the ambush, questioned the wisdom of another offensive so soon.

At the center of the camp, a heated argument broke out between two groups of recruits.

“This is madness,” one man said, his voice rising. “We’re not ready for another fight. We barely survived the last one!”

“And what do you propose we do?” another snapped. “Sit here and wait for the nobles to find us? That’ll end well.”

Garrick stepped in before the argument could escalate further, his voice cutting through the tension. “Enough. We don’t have time for this. Either you’re with us, or you’re not.”

The recruits fell silent, but the unease lingered.

That night, the camp was a hive of activity as the rebels prepared for the mission. Weapons were cleaned and loaded, explosives were assembled, and supplies were packed.

Juri worked tirelessly in his workshop, fine-tuning the Scout Walker and assembling additional drones to support the team. Kira entered quietly, watching him work for a moment before speaking.

“You really think this will work?” she asked.

“It has to,” Juri replied without looking up.

Kira frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

Juri set down his tools and met her gaze. “If we don’t act, we lose. It’s that simple. The nobles have the resources, the manpower, and the magic. The only way we survive is by staying ahead of them—and that means taking risks.”

Kira hesitated, then nodded. “Just don’t get yourself killed, Winkler. You’re no good to us dead.”

Juri smirked faintly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The rebels set out before dawn, their breaths visible in the icy air as they moved through the snow-covered forest. Juri led the team, his Scout Walker moving with an eerie grace as its legs navigated the uneven terrain.

The staging ground came into view just as the sun began to rise. It was a sprawling encampment, filled with rows of tents, supply wagons, and soldiers milling about.

Halrick crouched beside Juri, peering through a spyglass. “There’s at least fifty of them,” he muttered. “Probably more.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Juri said. “We’re not here to fight. We’re here to destroy.”

The team split into smaller groups, each assigned a specific objective. Kira and Garrick moved toward the supply wagons, their packs filled with incendiary charges. Halrick and another rebel scouted the perimeter, keeping watch for patrols.

Juri guided the Scout Walker into the heart of the camp, its sleek frame moving silently through the shadows. He placed a series of explosives on key structures, his movements quick and methodical.

The first explosion shattered the morning quiet, sending a plume of fire and smoke into the sky.

Chaos erupted as soldiers scrambled to respond, their shouts filling the air. Juri activated the Scout Walker’s mounted Repeater, the weapon spitting bullets at anyone who ventured too close.

Kira and Garrick set fire to the supply wagons, the flames spreading rapidly as they retreated toward the forest. Halrick cut down a pair of guards who tried to intercept them, his blade flashing in the early light.

“Fall back!” Juri shouted, detonating the remaining charges.

The rebels regrouped at the edge of the camp, their mission complete. Behind them, the staging ground burned, its supplies and equipment reduced to ash.

The rebels’ victory came at a cost. One of their number—a young recruit named Lena—was struck by an arrow during the retreat. Halrick carried her back to the valley, but by the time they arrived, she was already gone.

The loss hit the camp hard, and the tension that had simmered beneath the surface threatened to boil over.

Juri stood before the gathered rebels that night, his expression grim. “We’ve taken another step forward, but I won’t lie to you—this war will cost us more than we can imagine. If anyone wants to leave, I won’t stop you.”

No one moved.

Juri’s voice hardened. “Good. Then we keep fighting. For those we’ve lost, and for the world we’re building.”

The rebels cheered, but the weight of their sacrifice lingered in the cold night air.