“What do you mean?” I asked in disbelief. Or rather stuttered as Freiherr Houdin observed every movement of my face. Although my surprise didn’t arise from his question but the sudden change of topic. With Rhoslyn’s background still occupying my thoughts, such unintelligible reaction escaped my lips.

But it seemed like my subconscious reply satisfied the Freiherr’s interest. A raised eyebrow before he leaned back in his chair, letting Master Bernier continue the conservation.

“During the defense, you engaged the leprechauns in battle on your own. Furthermore, you did it outside of the barricade. This doesn’t match our evaluation of your strength,” he explained patiently. “Even if we consider your previous successes or even luck, you should have been dead after three steps. You standing in front of us is inexplicable.”

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. Or maybe searching for the right words. But it gave me enough time to calm down and refocus on the conversation. I would have enough time to grasp Rhoslyn’s later. For now, I had to deal with the problem in front of me.

“As your superiors,” Master Bernier continued in a measured pace. “As the ones responsible for the live and death of our men, even the entire city, we need to know the true extent of your strength. Only then would we be able to save as many men as possible. Therefore, I would ask you to explain yourself.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I answered with three different gazes following the movements of my lips.

Rhoslyn still appeared relaxed, even laid-back, examining the pastry before her. But the glint in her eyes and the occasional glimpses betrayed her concerns. Freiherr Houdin displayed an incurious attitude, going as far as continuing with the remaining paperwork.

Hence I addressed Master Bernier and his piercing gaze with my next words. “I would like to answer your questions, but I never fought with the leprechauns on my own. They were pressing against our barricade with no room left to move. Your proposed battle plan would have been suicide.”

“That’s exactly the point,” Master Bernier responded, his voice getting noticeably louder. “We ask you to explain how you could survive such behavior.”

“I didn’t. I attacked them from a distance. With a makeshift spear.”

“I’m not talking about that. The problem is the end of the fight. When you scared the leprechauns away. I listened to the farmer’s account while you were unconscious. They told me how you drove them away. On. Your. Own.”

“Ah, that!” I exclaimed. Was I able to display a decent Eureka-moment? “It was a breakout with the other men following behind me. I was only leading from the front. And without Drew and the other men behind me, the leprechauns would have slaughtered me. It was thanks to our combined push that we scared them away.”

“That can’t be.” Master Bernier’s voice became sharper. Less like a conversation. More like an interrogation. “The farmers were clear on this point when they told their story. They called you the hero who saved the village.”

“Master Bernier. You might not understand this because you weren’t there with us.” I tried to emphasize this point. You didn’t see it. All you heard were farmer tales. “The battle was chaotic and everyone was overstrained. We had only trained for half a circle and they could barely raise their spears, let alone kill leprechauns. It would have been a slaughter without the barricade.”

“One circle ago they were still farmers,” I continued. “But there they saw their friends die right in front of them, ripped apart by monsters they had never seen before. A nightmare. Or something even worse. Anybody who could slay those creatures would be a hero in their eyes, let alone the person who informed them of the approaching danger and build their defense.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“But!”

“That’s all there is to it,” I concluded before Master Bernier could ask further questions. “I would like nothing more than to brag about my heroic strength in front of Gladford’s maiden. The one who gave me this mission. But those would be hollow words, easily debunked during the next fight.”

“I… understand.” My counterpart let out an exaggerated sigh. “Please forgive my rudeness. Our need for capable fighters is just that urgent.” A picture-perfect bow in front of me.

“There is nothing to forgive.” I answered his gesture with a bow of my own. “We are fighting on the same side so that Gladford can survive.”

“Then would you allow one of my questions?” A cheerful female voice cut in from the side. “How did you survive all the wounds?”

“Wounds?”

“These here.” Rhoslyn stood up and circled around me, pointing at all the holes and tears in my leather armor. Mementos left by the leprechaun’s weapons. Not one or two, but twenty or thirty. “With so many wounds, your condition should have been horrible.”

“Well, I did faint.” I answered with a wry smile. “But there weren’t that many wounds. I used hare fur to pad the inside of the armor and they stopped most of the attacks.”

A lie. But not one they could point out. I was well known for my eccentric hare hunts among the recruits. And the weapons of the few slain leprechauns had been in horrible conditions. Misshapen, rusty, or filthy. Enough to rip through human flesh. But not sharp enough to cut through multiple layers of leather and fur in one strike.

And Rhoslyn arrived at the same conclusion after a moment of thought, nodded, and returned to her seat.

“So… about my departure…” I tried to change the topic back to my desertion and toward the end of the discussion. Nothing worse than them staying on topic and poking more holes into my story. “And also Drew.”

“Drew?” Master Bernier asked.

“One of my men. The one who followed me to the southern villages.”

“Ah, that one.” He shook his head. “We can’t punish a recruit for following his Vinetar. And for you…” He turned his gaze toward the wooden desk.

“He followed Rhoslyn’s command, so she must deal with it,” Freiherr Houdin answered without missing a beat, exposing his previous lack of interest as an act. “Someone who seeks glory in battle shall get his chance. Make him her problem.”

“As you wish,” Master Bernier acknowledged, before turning his attention back to me. “Most of the recruits are still stationed in the southern fort under the command of their respective Vinetars. But the last days saw a perceivable drop in morale. About half the recruits left their weapons and returned to their fields, frustrated with the current commander.”

His angry gaze bounced off Rhoslyn’s sweet smile. Hence he continued without further remarks.

“So we need fresh recruits and someone who can maintain their morale. Therefore we’ll send you to the southern fort to take command and defend the position alongside Rhoslyn’s mercenaries.”

“But I wasn’t exactly loved by the other recruits. It would be more honest to say the other groups looked down on my training. So…”

“That’s your problem.” Master Bernier cut me off. “We only expect one result. A force that can defend the fort against the leprechauns. Use your training if you must. Chase them away if you dislike their attitude. It’s your troop now.”

“But-”

“There is no but!” He approached me until we stood face to face. “Let me be clear here. Rhoslyn’s word didn’t keep you alive, your worth did. The fact that you are well-liked with the southern villages did. Someone who can rally new recruits from the southern village and keep their morale high. That is your worth. That is the only reason a deserting Vinetar is still alive. Your enrollment might have been voluntary, but then you took both your weapon and your armor as you ran away. Your life is forfeit. And there is no choice anymore.”

Finished with his speech, he raised the right hand, palm upturned, and a small ball of fire, roughly the size of chicken egg, appeared.

Not the most eerie sight for a player who experienced the card magic in the game. But it was the displayed intention behind the act that shocked me.

Master Bernier was an Ablazed One and time-consuming preparation built the foundation of his strength. That small ball alone resulted from endless meditation in front of a fire, absorbing the heat. Days, if not weeks, of preparation wasted for a single act of intimidation. For a simple message.

Obey! Obey or I’ll use the rest.

And there wasn’t much I could do. Without weapons, not knowing when the cooldown of fortress would end, I had no way to resist him. Enough preparation and he would be strong enough to one-shot me with no chance of resistance. And it was unlikely that Rhoslyn would risk her life for a recruit, no matter how promising or interesting he would be.

In here, I stood alone.

Master Bernier made a fist, extinguishing the flame.

The ultimatum was over.

And I obeyed.