If you looked at the residents of Kafd, you might think we had lost the damn battle. Instead of fanfare or joy, the people averted their gazes, bowed their heads, and hurried away like scared rabbits. Women put their children behind them as if I were some monster ready to harm them. But no wonder—the tales of the Taron kind’s cruelty had even spread to these remote areas. And to add insult to injury, the reputation of my Company of Thorns wasn’t any better. Not because we failed in our quests, but because the discipline of my men after a battle was practically non-existent. Many of my men might have been knighted nobles, but they were far from noble in their behavior. In fact, the average soldier in this new world was more educated than my footsoldiers, and even most of my knights.

I couldn't expect them to follow me and die with iron discipline on the battlefield while enforcing the same rules after a victory. But I didn’t tolerate everything. The population here probably feared a fate similar to that of Farsz, an infamous incident involving my company that ended with the village being torched.

“Have there been any quarrels between our men and the villagers so far, Lea?” I asked as we entered an alley.

“Nothing significant, just minor arguments and squabbles. No murder or rape,” she replied.

“Then why the hell do these people behave like we’re devils?” I wondered aloud, frustration gnawing at me.

“Well, maybe seeing a nearly two-and-a-half-meter-tall golden human with red eyes is intimidating enough, don’t you think?” Lea smirked, her carefree smile masking any real concern.

She had probably already forgotten the death of Ser Lukris, unlike me. The fates of mere humans or elves, as she would say, didn’t concern her. With that stance, she followed the typical code of the Taron, believing in her superiority. That’s why I was so surprised Lea showed any real reaction to Jaquess de Rodesió, a mere elf. But she did, her eyes softening when she spoke of him, a rare glimpse of humanity in an otherwise impenetrable façade when dealing with mortals.

I always felt a connection to my men, a link that overcame the discrepancy in our origins. Rather than being a distant and uncaring commander, I believed that being approachable and likable led to stronger loyalty. Or so I thought.

“By the way, please find out if anyone proved themselves worthy as squires or knights on the battlefield today. A ceremony would further boost the soldiers' morale,” I said, trying to shift my thoughts to more pressing matters.

“As always. I also noticed the look you gave the half-blood. Don’t deny it. Do you want to enlist the madgirl?” Lea asked, giving me a sidelong glance.

“She showed potential as a good warrior, maybe evolving into a musketeer or crossbowman with time. But there’s no need to hurry. We need to stay here for a few days, replenish our stocks for our return to Iris, and let the wounded recover. Just make sure to send someone out in the streets to ask about this girl. We may be a ragtag army, but I won’t accept any sick beggar in our ranks,” I replied pensively.

“Hah, as if the spearmen and men at arms are any better. Knowing them, they’d try to rape her the moment she went to sleep in her tent,” Lea laughed.

“I’m aware of their dark desires, but the punishment the squire received after raping one of the baggage women should be deterrent enough for a while. Who would risk something like that when they could just buy a night with one of the camp followers?” I wondered.

“Maybe because your men feel too proud to use a whore who has already had every dick the company?” Lea said, rolling her eyes at my naivety.

“All the same, that’s why I said to put her with our shooters. There are already a handful of women in these who could teach her the ways of the company,” I said, ending the subject.

As we neared our assigned barracks—barracks was a glorified term for these run-down houses—the alley became gradually emptier. Then I spotted the first foot soldiers, tending to their weapons or, more often, resting, already drinking or in the embrace of a whore. They needed to relieve their accumulated tension. I didn’t care as long as their gear was in order at tomorrow’s muster. Worse damage would be repaired by our armorers, vital men for a functioning army.

When they saw Lea and me walking past, every one of them stopped to salute the sun. They might be a bit of a savage bunch, but they respected the hierarchy. Probably, Lea also had a hand in their discipline, as I’d heard stories of her actions against unfilial soldiers. And I was sure nobody wanted an angry Lea ás Ras in front of them.

Ahead, I could already see the gate to the barracks, guarded by two squires. The sour expression on the left one’s face suggested this was not a task they had volunteered for. The right one was leaning against the wall, dozing off.

At all times, a part of the company must be on alert to avoid being caught off guard in moments like these. Many of my knights tried to form their own code, as they had never been taught or trained as children. They were slowly growing into their roles. The knighthood I bestowed upon selected warriors also came with more responsibility. I expected my elite to behave differently from ordinary foot soldiers. That meant no pointless brawls and no mindless drinking. Anyone who wanted to be a knight should act like one. They should also learn to read and write, which has proven to be challenging. Those who had been with me for a long time were slowly getting the basics. My plan was for these men to teach their comrades in turn. A slow process.

In any case, these two squires, who had to watch the other soldiers celebrating and drinking, were learning what it meant to behave knightly.

The left one noticed us and alerted his friend. They immediately stood upright, their expressions serious, any earlier discontent vanished.

I smiled and looked at Lea, who gave me a knowing look.

Then she leaned over and whispered, “I have a very good idea to help these two with their training.”

With a suspicious glance, I asked, “Will they survive your idea?”

“Of course. You don’t need to worry about them,” she replied.

With a gesture, I gave her my permission. A moment later, we stood before the gate.

The squires saluted the sun. “Dominus, how can we assist you?”

Before I could answer, Lea spoke, “We just want to visit a woman in the barracks, but we noticed you seem bored with your post.”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

The two squires turned pale. “Oh no, we are gladly fulfilling our duty,” said the left one, eyes wide.

“Not at all. Feel free to join the other soldiers. We’ll find a replacement for you,” Lea replied with a sweet smile.

As I looked at the squires’ faces, I vaguely remembered their identities. They had only recently been anointed after the attack on the bandit camp and were still quite inexperienced. This explained why they didn’t know Lea well. Older squires and knights would have run at such a smile. Lea was known for many things, but baseless kindness wasn’t one of them.

“Really, domina?” asked the right one, glancing questioningly at his comrade.

“Of course, enjoy the victory,” Lea said.

The squire shrugged and started to walk past Lea to join a group of crossbowmen. But as he passed her, her expression turned deadly serious, and she pounced on him. Locking his head in a chokehold, she threw him to the ground. Given her superior size and strength, it was child’s play. His resistance was laughable, his kicking not affecting her in the slightest. She began to choke him. His face turned paler, and just as I was about to intervene, she let him go and stood up, only to kick him one last time in the stomach.

“What’s going on here?” One of my knights burst out of the door, sword drawn, ready to fight.

When he saw Lea and me, and then the gasping squire on the ground, he immediately dropped to one knee.

"Dominus, Domina, I apologize for any affronts my squire may have committed. Forgive him, but he has only recently begun his training," begged the knight. His name was Ser Teutos, if I remember correctly.

"At ease. Ser Teutos, is it?" I asked.

The knight rose. "Yes, my lord."

"Are these two squires your wards?"

"Yes, they were supposed to guard the door."

I smiled. "Lea ás Ras determined that they were performing their duty half-heartedly. Your squire here on the ground seemed to be sleeping."

"I take full responsibility, Dominus," Ser Teutos responded quickly, fully aware of the situation.

"I knighted you after the Battle of Otk, didn’t I?"

"Yes, after I delayed the advance of the Grey Orcs on our left flank," Ser Teutos said proudly.

"Truly a brave deed. Then you must remember why that battle was so bloody. Wasn't it Squire Mil who was asleep at his post, allowing the orc vanguard to attack our camp without warning?" I said.

Ser Teutos turned pale, his eyes filled with fear.

"It was Squire Mil. But Dominus, this is a completely different situation. We're not near enemy territory," the knight tried to convince me, already sensing where I was heading.

"Lea, what was Mil’s punishment again?" I asked rhetorically.

"Hmm, the stake, if I recall correctly," Lea mused, theatrically rubbing her chin.

The squire on the ground now realized that death could be his fate.

"But that's not necessary, Dominus. My squire is a good boy. I will personally see to an appropriate punishment. Please," pleaded my knight.

"You’re right, his offense is not as severe, but as a knight, you should be aware of your position. The footsoldiers have been watching the whole time. If one of their own fell asleep at his post, I would punish him too, though not to the same extent," I pointed at the squire on the ground. "He is a squire, isn’t he? He wants to be part of our elite but can’t even keep his eyes open at his post, even though he didn’t even participate in the battle. How do you think that looks to the common soldiers?" I asked.

Ser Teutos lowered his head in shame. "I understand, Dominus, that a punishment is necessary, but please spare his life!"

I studied Ser Teutos for a moment. "Fifteen lashes for the sleeping squire and ten for his comrade who failed to wake him," I declared sternly.

"Thank you, Dominus. I will ensure this does not happen again," said the knight, relieved that his squire's life was spared.

The squire, however, looked at us in disbelief. "Just because I nodded off for a moment, I should be whipped? Is this justice? Damnation! I won't let this golden whore torture me," he shouted, glaring at Lea with hatred.

Lea looked at me questioningly. I nodded to her.

"Well, well. It’s been a while since someone called me a golden whore. But I respect your courage—or your stupidity. The line between the two is very thin," Lea smiled and materialized Rosary, her weapon. "Draw your sword. It’s time to prove yourself."

I stepped back to give them space. I glanced at Ser Teutos to see if he would try to protect his squire. Fortunately, his gaze was now steely; he understood that his squire had talked himself into a death sentence. I nodded, recognizing that it would be a shame to lose both a squire and a knight over such a matter.

"Dominus, I have failed in my duty as a trainer and disappointed you. Please grant me the honor of freeing myself from this guilt with the Thorn," my knight requested.

Meanwhile, a circle of onlookers formed around Lea and the squire, mainly brutal-looking footsoldiers. A crowd that enjoyed seeing blood and would rather spill it themselves. It was precisely because of this crowd that I couldn’t afford to show any weakness; the only thing these men respected was my golden gauntlet.

I gave my knight a brief look. "Are you sure?"

"If my brothers in the order hear of this disgrace, it is the least they would accept," said Ser Teutos with determination.

"So be it. Through the Thorn, you shall rise. But tomorrow," I said.

The knight then stood and joined the circle of onlookers to watch his squire die.

The squire, realizing his impending fate, pleaded with his master in terror, "Dominus Teutos, please, you can’t allow this. Didn’t you promise to raise me as your own son?"

The knight merely shook his head sadly.

The squire screamed in frustration and backed away from the approaching Lea. Then he turned and tried to flee through the circle of men.

He hadn’t counted on the bloodthirsty spearmen. Before he got far, two of them grabbed him and threw him back, laughing.

"Oh, you started off so well, with that hateful look. I thought you were going to attack me. Now stand like a warrior and face your fate, or do you want to die looking pathetic?" Lea taunted.

A hush fell over the crowd.

The squire suddenly steeled himself and swung his broadsword at Lea’s head, surprisingly fast for a mortal, but not for a Taron.

Lea didn’t even flinch, and the squire’s face broke into a grin, believing he had the upper hand.

But his sword stopped mere centimeters from Lea’s face. The squire looked confused at his sword. He pressed harder, his face turning red with effort, his knuckles white. The blade didn’t move an inch.

Then a sound broke the silence: Lea’s mocking laughter.

"Do you understand now? You are nothing. Insignificant. Like a fly, I can crush you anytime, mortal. You stand before a golden Taron, the golden whore you called me. Now see what such a whore can do to you."

Lea made her sword disappear and raised her hands. The squire’s sword began to move again—slowly, but in the opposite direction. Inch by inch, it turned, pointing toward his own throat. At first, the boy tried to resist, but he quickly realized he was dealing with forces beyond his understanding.

Panic crept onto his face, pure terror flickering in his eyes. The closer the blade came, the more frantic he became, but he was rooted in place. His hands wouldn’t release the grip, no matter how hard he tried. Finally, the sword touched his skin. He began to whimper and beg for mercy. Lea’s face remained focused, her hands constantly in motion to channel the telekinesis for such a delicate display.

The squire twisted his head in a final attempt to escape the blade—no chance. Methodically and slowly, it cut through his throat. At first, there were screams of pain; after a few centimeters, the spark of life left his eyes.

Lea lowered her hands, a satisfied smile on her lips. As she walked back to me, the foot soldiers practically leaped out of her way, still staring at the body on the ground.

The crowd dispersed slowly, murmuring among themselves. The brutal reality of our company was a harsh reminder of the price of failure. As Ser Teutos rejoined me, his face was a mask of resolve.

"Tomorrow, Ser Teutos. We will deal with your request then," I said.

He nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his own trial that awaited. This was the way of our world—harsh, unyielding, and drenched in the blood of those who couldn’t keep pace.