"...man"

"Mr. Free..."

"Mr. Freeman!"

Stanley awoke with a gasp of air as he sat up from the ground. Looking around him, he found himself in a clearing within the forest, surrounded by the members of his squad. Before he could open his mouth to ask what was going on, a large hand covered his face while he was pulled from the ground. Jolting his head around, he saw a large man wearing the same clothing as the soldier he had seen before the battle began. He peered back towards his group and noticed that each had a soldier of their own behind them as if they were each under arrest. In front of him stood the tall officer who had officiated the battle.

"Ah, good. You're finally awake." Asante grabbed Stanley by the arm and pulled him to his feet. "Now that we're all here, I can begin."

As Asante stepped aside, Stanley noticed that Hagen and Henry were both in the clearing, looking just as confused as everyone else.

"Now, before anything else, I would like to clarify where exactly we are." Asante turned to his left and nodded, prompting the dim artificial moonlight to turn into bright white light. "We are still underground," he said, "but we are not in the same facility as before so as not to interrupt the proceedings of the trials. So don't get any ideas of running away."

Asante retrieved a notebook from his front uniform pocket and began flipping through the pages. The notebook had no words on the cover or back and was leatherbound, perhaps unique to Asante's collection, Stanley thought. Once Asante found his page, he promptly closed the small booklet and returned it to his pocket.

"Allow me to reintroduce myself once more," Asante began again, "my name is Captain Jacob Asante, head of the Imperial Guardian Force's Erdenjist Branch, and your trials are finished."

The first to react to those words was Henry, who leaped from the soldier's grasp at Asante. Before reaching him, Asante kicked him in his stomach, sending him to the ground.

After coughing his spit, Henry yelled at the officer. "The fuck you mean we're done?! The battle hasn't even been finished. I'm still in! Hagen's still in! This fight is still going on!"

Asante laughed to himself, causing the soldiers around him to chuckle as well. "Would you like to know why this trial is over?" Asante questioned, "I'll tell you why." Pulling out his notebook once more, Asante flipped to the last page and began reading from it. "Henry Kistler, applicant 38. Notes: In addition to using real lead bullets, which is cause enough for immediate elimination and imprisonment, Kistler refused to adhere to the needs of his teammates, instead preceding to assault the opponents on his own, leaving his team in the dust. Recommendation: Immediate removal from the trials."

Henry scoffed and attempted to stand but was held down by a soldier. "That little diary of yours ain't shit."

"Oh, is it now?" Asante grinned. "You know what? You're right! The notebook forgot to include that you surrendered to Mr. Freeman but continued to fight. If I'm not mistaken, that is a blatant defiance of the rules and is enough to remove you from the trials, as if we needed another reason to do so."

Stanley turned to his teammates and exchanged smiles, almost laughing at the humiliated Kistler. Asante noticed this and turned to face the team.

"Do not think you lot are here because you're saints," Asante stated to Stanley and the others as he moved to Kastor, "Kastor Gregor, applicant 302, while quick on his feet, his reaction time was abysmal, especially when it came to an unknown enemy, losing his gun with less than five shots taken at it." He then stepped in front of Stanley. "Stanley Freeman, applicant 301, despite being a Red-Light citizen, showed leadership prowess when it counted but lacked in common sense. Did not finish Mr. Kistler off when he had the chance, causing further damage had this not been a trial." Asante looked up from his notebook. "And I will add that you were putting Rietveld's life on the line with your stunt, and that is not leadership; it's idiotic and self-destructive." Moving past Erick, he stood in front of Leonard. "Leonard Rietveld, applicant 76, did not shoot Mr. Kistler when he had the chance, showing feeble quick-thinking ability, expected of a Rietveld."

As Asante moved away from Leonard, Hagen laughed to himself.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Miura?" Asante was now directly in front of the short man, who couldn't stop laughing.

Hagen caught his breath and stared at him. "So, what?" He began, bearing a devilish grin, "the only reason we're here is that we sucked ass? Come on, officer, surely you understand better than I that the six of us aren't the bottom of the barrel, so what's the real reason?"

Asante ignored the taunt and continued reading from his notebook. "Hagen Miura, applicant 1. Notes: This is not a game." After stating this, he closed his notebook and returned it to his front pocket.

"So that's my only reason, then?" Hagen laughed so loudly that Stanley wondered if the other applicants in the original room could hear him. "Talk about half-assed. Now I know this has nothing to do with my level because I know I could beat you ten rounds in a row before you knock me out. This isn't a game? Then stop creating rules like it is one, you doofus! In a real fight, there are no stakes apart from life or death. If you're going to be miserable the entire fight, then you're better off dead." Hagen continued to laugh as Asante stepped away from him and ordered the soldiers to hold Stanley and the others in a straight line.

Once Hagen had shut up—not without the help of a soldier—Asante continued his speech. "Each of you performed quite terribly in this mock battle, and I believe I've illustrated to each of you why. You may not be at the bottom of the barrel, but you're damn near brushing it."

Stanley looked at his feet. He knew what was coming next and was ready to hear the words. His father would likely scold him for leaving, and his daily trips to the middle districts would probably end forever. Before he could begin planning his next step, Asante continued.

"That said!" he yelled, lifting Stanley's head with his voice alone, "each of you has shown qualities that I was looking for in a soldier. You will not know these qualities, nor why I was looking for them, but it is because of these qualities which you possess that I am taking you under my supervision at the Imperial Guardian Force's Erdenjist Branch. You will be trained throughout this month and the ones following and will be positioned alongside the inside of the border for the remainder of the year, with the possibility of being promoted to the outer or upper border."

* * *

Asante led Stanley and the others to the surface, where the sun was still shining brightly on the open field they had found themselves hours before. Next to the ticket booth that Stanley had visited when he first arrived was a stagecoach that was usually reserved for the nobles.

The coach was big enough to hold ten and bore the imperial colors purple and blue. The windows were tinted a dark gray and lined with golden paint. The three horses that sat in front of the carriage made no sound as the driver read a newspaper in silence.

"This coach will take you lot to Erdenjist. The travel time is an estimated eleven days, but this coach will take you there in nine. You will stop in Westbrook, about a half-day trip outside your destination. I will not be in attendance when you arrive, but Commander Antonov will welcome you."

Henry opened his mouth to speak, but Asante put his hand up. "Before you ask your questions, I'll answer them for you. First, this is your only opportunity to get involved with the military. No other branches will take you from now until the end of time. Second, where this carriage comes from is none of your business. Third, you're free to walk away from this offer if you wish, but once the carriage leaves, your opportunity will go right with it. You will not be let in if you show up in Erdenjist a month from now. Fourth, and finally, clothes, food, and beverages will be supplied during the trip and in Erdenjist, so there is no need to return home. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Asante opened the carriage door before stepping away from the group and returning underground to the training facility. Stanley looked at the others to gauge their reactions to the information they'd received. Kastor stood dumbfounded while Leonard and Erick were already discussing their next move. Hagen had already entered the carriage, looking under the seats and in the overhead baskets. Henry, meanwhile, had no words to say. Stanley expected more vulgar screams from the stout man, but none came out. With a rage, Henry stormed away from the group and returned to the ticket booth, presumably asking to reenter the underground facility.

"I'll be heading out in fifteen minutes," the carriage driver said, looking away from his newspaper. The driver wore a white uniform with a black-brimmed cap. His shoes were worn, and his face was young with visible signs of stress. His hair was hidden beneath his cap but connected to an earnest attempt at a beard. "Whether all six of you get in or none do, I'm leaving when I'm leaving. My clock doesn't revolve around you." With his few words, he returned to reading his newspaper.

Stanley knew his decision already. No matter if it was just him and the mysterious Hagen, he was to take the opportunity and leave the capital once and for all. Ideally, he thought, I'll climb the ladder and become a captain. I'll finally rid myself of the title of Red-Light citizen, and I can start fresh. He stepped towards the carriage but was stopped by a tug of his shirt.

"You're going?" Kastor asked as he turned around.

Stanley nodded.

"Well, then I'll go too. I wasn't convinced with that commander's pitch, but I'm all for new experiences, right?"

Stanley entered the carriage, which was much bigger inside than he thought. Hagen had already claimed his spot in the far corner, and he welcomed the two. The seats were a soft red fabric, and the walls a dark brown. Above the seats were baskets for what he could only imagine housed baggage. Kastor hunched over as he attempted to avoid a head injury, eventually sitting on the other end of the coach from Hagen, next to the door. Stanley sat down across the aisle from Kastor, his legs having very little room for movement.

"It's nice," Kastor mentioned, still looking around the stagecoach, "I could live here for a month and still have the energy to go longer."

Hagen eagerly slid down the seat and put himself next to Kastor. This was the first time Stanley got a good look at Hagen. He still wore his dark suit, but it had visible texture changes around the shoulders, knees, and other joints. His hair was a darker shade of Black, complimenting his smaller eyes and thinner complexion. "You say that now, but once we're a day into the trip, you'll be begging to get out. I've ridden a fair share of these myself throughout the continent. They never get fun."

"All right, Mr. Ambassador for the Empire, calm down. I was pointing out how it looked nice."

The next to enter were Leonard and Erick, who sat down on Stanley's side. Hagen flashed Erick a smile but didn't get one in response. Leonard didn't look anyone in the eyes. Instead, he opted to look outside the window at Henry, who had yet to enter the carriage.

"Do you think he'll come?" Leonard questioned.

"Hard to tell," Hagen replied. "He's a rare one. I can't tell what he's thinking. You know, apart from hating Rietveld. Even in the battle, it was hard to tell what he wanted."

With those few words from Hagen, the carriage driver jumped down from his seat and stood by the door. "Last call."

"Fine." Henry walked up to the driver and pushed him away from the door, stepping in and closing it himself. He sat next to Hagen and across from Leonard, regrettably.

Stanley exchanged glances with Erick and Leonard. The carriage driver's frustration could be heard from outside before the entire carriage started to move. Stanley looked outside the window as he saw the Sur District's tall buildings turn into the Market District's tiny houses. Soon enough, the carriage reached the edge of the city where great walls stood. Stanley had only seen these walls from a distance before, so seeing them up close was a surreal experience. After the guards checked with the driver about his destination, they were off again into the great plains of Einrich.

Stanley had never been outside the city before. He had no reason to. Everything he had known was inside the city walls, so escaping to the outside was never something that went on his mind. He continued to look out his window and saw plains that extended as far as his eye could see.

"I'm surprised you came," Kastor mentioned, looking at Henry. "I thought you wanted to be on the front lines."

Henry scoffed. "Of course I did. Being put in the lowest of the low is a blow my family will never recover from. But running away is a blow even lower than that. I can't believe the Guardian Force is still around; there is literally no point in them existing! The fight's up north, not on our border. It's just wasted manpower, but our leaders are too blind to see even that."

"Isn't it to protect from the Men of Gordon?" Leonard questioned.

Henry smashed his foot onto Leonard's. "You seriously believe that they exist?!" He laughed so loud that the small carriage shook. "I took you to be a fool but not stoop to that level! The Men of Gordon were an old wives' tale to get kids to behave. There's no way that people capable of destroying entire countries ever existed. Not a hundred years ago, not today, not ever."

"The Men of Gordon?" Stanley had only heard of them a handful of times but never really knew what they were. His father refrained from the topic, and those in the Red-Light District were never ones to discuss the matter. All he'd heard about them was from Buddy and how they were the most powerful force on the continent before they secluded themselves from the world.

"I think you're sorely mistaken," Hagen stated as he leaned forward. He still bore his devilish grin that had seemed never to go away. "They were very much real; some are alive, even today."

Kastor thought to himself. "Weren't they created at the start of the war? It's hard to say that they survived over a hundred years. Nobody's lived that long."

"Oh, it's possible. In fact, their being alive is why we're fighting in the north."

"Now I know you're full of shit." Henry stood up, his head brushing up against the ceiling of the carriage. "The reason we're fighting in the north is for resources. Wargia's mountains hold scarce resources, and being able to control them is necessary for world domination. The republic wants more and is trying to take it through force."

"Yes, resources are one of the reasons for the war's existence, but why not fight Reinbose head-on?" Hagen crossed his arms and ushered Henry to sit down. "Does it not strike you as interesting? The point is that the Men of Gordon were made a hundred years ago in the Second Alcrestian War, then caused the end of it through the creation of the Land of Solitude. We moved north because we didn't want to risk going through Solitude. The resources were just a benefit to that."

"Second Alcrestian War?" Stanley asked Hagen. "When was that?

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"You seriously don't know? I guess it would make sense considering your background. The Second War started a hundred years ago when Reinbose invaded our land. It ended just five years later when the Men of Gordon were created. The Northern War we're fighting in has been going on for sixteen years and has been a relative stalemate."

"And what of the first?" After Stanley had asked this question, everyone turned towards Leonard, who had shifted his gaze outside the window.

"The First Alcrestian War was when Meinir Rietveld and the Reinbose Revolution rebelled against Einrich. Creating the Reinbose Republic." Leonard looked down at his feet.

"Yeah," Henry chuckled. "All you gotta know about that first war is that this fucker's family is the reason for it. How's it feel, Rietveld—knowing that you've got millions of dead bodies on your hands?"

Kastor sighed. "Well, that was a great history lesson, but you're saying we're just protecting Einrich from the supposed attack from the Men of Gordon? Wasn't the whole story that they won't attack us unless we go to them first?"

Hmm... Hagen thought to himself, pressing his finger to his chin.

"I think it's protecting something," Stanley said, "but not Einrich. I mean, isn't it odd that we're the only ones selected for the Guardian Force? That test was special as well. There's something else that we're not being told."

"Special test?" Erick spoke for the first time. "What do you mean, Stanley?"

"Well, before the mock battle, I spoke with Asante. I had a few questions for him. Didn't you guys think it was strange that we didn't have a basic aptitude test? Like, we didn't test our endurance or strength, just went straight into combat."

"I don't think that's weird," Henry replied hastily. "Combat is the easiest way to determine whether someone's ready for the front lines or not."

"We're in a war; it makes sense that we'd skip a step or two," Kastor agreed.

"That's what I thought, but why would they send Asante? He's never on the front lines. How would he know what's best to go? I asked Asante about it, and from his response, it sounds like they were looking specifically for Guardian Force members."

Henry snickered. "I never thought I'd hear a more stupid thing than what Miura said a second ago, but here we are. The lowest group in the military had the grounds to search out people to join them specifically? Get real! We're at the bottom of the barrel, and they need to weed us out before we're even close to being up north, which is obviously never going to happen! There's no need for silly conspiracies. We're all fucked. I'm gonna get some shuteye, don't wake me up." With his few comments, he leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes, instantly falling asleep.

Stanley went quiet. He had been almost sure they were looking for Guardian Force members, but maybe he had been wrong. Perhaps they were the bottom of the barrel, and they were looking for another branch. Regardless, he was happy that he had made it at all and that he'd be able to get paid. He looked outside once again as the carriage passed a small village. There was no sign telling the name; it was only a road leading into the village center.

"Nobody lives there anymore," Kastor mentioned, looking out the window as well. "I had family who knew people there; they all moved into the city or out of the country due to the war."

Stanley didn't reply. As the carriage moved away from the abandoned village, he looked back inside to see that everyone had shut their eyes, save for Kastor, who had pulled a book from above the seat and begun to read it.

Knowing there was nothing more for him to do, Stanley followed suit and shut his eyes, hoping to get a little sleep.

* * *

The journey was, indeed, very long. There was the occasional stop to get food or to stretch the legs in a small village, but for the most part, the trip comprised sleeping, periodic conversation, and silence.

They were about three days from Westbrook.

"I'm curious, Henry." Erick had been reading a book he bought from a small town along the way. He closed it before looking at Henry. Only the two of them and Stanley had been awake. The rest had been asleep for some time, as it was the middle of the night. "Where does your hatred of Leonard come from?"

"I thought I made it clear that I hate stupid questions," Henry began. He had his elbow on the windowsill and had been watching the trees pass as the carriage took them late into the night.

"Is it such a stupid question?" Erick stood, rubbing his head against the carriage ceiling as he put his book away into his suitcase above the seats.

"Yeah, it is. If you must know, it's because of what his family did. Without them, none of us would be in this mess."

"Is that the case? I was under the impression that we were in this because of our actions alone."

"Not this mess, specifically, the war as a whole. Leonard's great-ancestor started the revolution leading to Reinbose. I thought we went over this?"

"We did, but-"

"So it's a stupid question. You already had your answer six days ago."

"So you hate his ancestor but not him?"

Henry took his elbow off the windowsill and glared at Erick. Stanley, meanwhile, had not looked at either due to not wanting to butt into their conversation. He did, however, keep listening.

"If you ask another stupid question, I will end this carriage ride prematurely for you."

With that, Erick said not another word. Stanley was tempted to keep pushing the issue but felt it was best that he did not. Instead, he turned to Erick and asked him about his family.

"We're straight down the middle. My family came from Arlington generations ago, and because we're not 'pure Einrich blood,' we haven't been able to get very far. You said you were part of the Red-Light District, yeah?"

"I never said it myself. It seems that it was common knowledge by the time I'd made my appearance. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Erick laid his head back and closed his eyes. "I just mentioned it because you don't seem like the type to be from there."

Stanley knew that there was this stigma against those from where he lived. Either they were thugs, rapists, or murderers. Nobody would expect to step into the district and get out alive. It was one of the reasons for never revealing his home to Buddy until much later. If he had led with that, people would gain this perceived notion that he was out to ruin their lives. At least, that's what he believed.

Looking over at Henry, Stanley fully grasped how built he was. He had seen him from a distance before the mock battle and again during it, but he never got to take a full look at how his body was built. His broad shoulders pierced through his dark jacket, and his legs were defined perfectly through his pants. Henry glanced at Stanley, causing his eyes to turn back outside.

* * *

Westbrook was a town situated on a lake. Its main road traversed the entire town, meaning one could see the lake from the entrance. Compared to the small farming villages, it was the largest town Stanley had seen since leaving the capital. Citizens stood outside as they watched the carriage slowly drive through the central street, passing by shops, houses, taverns, and guard posts. When the carriage turned down a side street, the number of onlookers diminished, and the buildings surrounding them turned entirely into houses. Eventually, the carriage stopped in front of a large house with a gate and front yard space.

The driver opened the carriage door and ushered the group to exit the vehicle, assuring them that their luggage would also be brought inside. Stepping around to the left of the carriage, Stanley was in awe of the size of the house. It supported three floors and windows plenty. As it was evening, the lights adorning the house shone brighter than the rest of the village. Its front gate bore a crest with a large letter A, presumed to be for Commander Antonov.

As if on cue.

"Velcome, gentlemen!" The gate opened to reveal a man about Stanley's height with open arms. He had a full head of hair and wore the imperial uniform Asante had worn. His gray mustache was strewn across his entire face, and his eyes were wide and blue. "I am Commander Timofei Antonov. Head of Vestbrook militant branch of Imperial Army and Ambassador for Imperial Guardian Force, how do you do?"

His speech held a strange accent, which Stanley had not heard before. His r's were rolled, and his w's were sharpened. Looking around at his peers, he noticed their faces appeared taken aback.

"Ah, yes," Antonov began once again. "My accent is strange, no? I come from island in Bay of Regivald, and accent is side effect. I assure you, is much better than vhen I first come." He put his arms down at his side. "You have questions, no? Come. Zere vill be answering over dinner."

* * *

The inside of the mansion seemed larger than on the outside. A gigantic chandelier hung from the ceiling, and servants lined the edges of the walls. Antonov directed the group to the dining room, where servants were also waiting.

"Zese vill be personal servants to you. Ask anything, zey vill do incredible vork. Do not vorry for your bags. Zey is in rooms already. Now, let us discuss over vaiting for our dinner."

The dining room was large, with a high ceiling and a large table in the center. The table could support up to twelve, so when the group sat down, it looked like they were missing half their party. It was set with fine silverware that reflected Stanley's face at him. In the center were several candlesticks, which had all been lit. At the ends of the room, there were cupboards with paintings of people above them. The first painting was of a singular man. He bore the imperial uniform and held a face of confidence.

The second painting was of a group of fifty or so men, all appearing to be in their twenties. They, too, bore the imperial uniform, though it was slightly different, offering a main coloring scheme of black with a blue secondary, as opposed to the standard purple and blue.

"Has painting caught your eye?" Antonov asked him.

Stanley, not wanting to appear rude, nodded in affirmation.

"Interesting painting, no? Apparently, vas painted from famous painter in Vestbrook. But painter is not what is unique about it." Antonov walked to the painting and put his hands behind his back. "Zose in painting, apparently, are Men of Gordon."

Stanley rose from his seat. "So they were real?"

Antonov, turning back to the table, shrugged. "Is hard to say. Painting vas hundred years ago painted. Plus, is only painting of Men of Gordon. None ozers exist. Personally, I zink zey exist. Or, is to say, I hope."

"Why in the hell would you hope people of mass destruction exist?" Henry blurted.

As Antonov sat in his seat at the table's end, he placed his hands next to his plate. "Who can say? Perhaps zere is need for saviors."

After Antonov finished his thought, servants came from another room with trays of food and placed them about the center of the table. Smaller offerings of vegetables and baked goods surrounded large portions of chicken, beef, and boar.

The commander stretched his arms forward over the table.

"Please, have lots of food. Is ze best you find in all of Vestbrook."

With those words, everyone began taking food from the center. Stanley looked to his sides and saw Kastor and Erick pile their plate with an abundance of food, while he kept things light with everything he knew he could finish.

* * *

About 30 minutes into the dinner.

"I've got a question," Hagen asked as he wiped his face with a napkin. "What does the 'Ambassador for the Imperial Guardian Force' do?"

"I see. How to put?" The commander thought for a while, leaving everyone silent for the several minutes he took. "You are recruits. I cover second leg of trip you took, see you make Erdenjist. All recruits come to me, go zrough me. Make sense?"

Hagen nodded his head.

"Wait a minute," Henry stated firmly as he dropped his utensils on his plate. "If you take in all the recruits, then where the hell are the rest of them? Surely we can't be all there is."

"Oh, you are."

Almost as if it were second nature, Antonov affirmed Henry's suspicions. He went back to eating like there was nothing strange about it. Stanley exchanged glances with Kastor, who was just as baffled as everyone else.

Leonard spoke.

"Why are there so few of us? I get there's a war going on, but isn't the force still one of the more important ones?"

Having finished his plate, Antonov handed it to one of the servants, who promptly took it to the back room. "Guardian Force has no need for many. Only few come each year. You are most ve've had in seven years." The commander stood from his seat and called his servants to the dining room. "Vas lovely dinner vith you all. I must tend to duties, so servants vill escort you to rooms vhen finished vith dinner. After, house is yours. Explore to hearts content, but no zird floor. Zird floor is out-of-bounds and, if caught, is jail sentence of many years." After bidding everyone good night, Antonov walked off with two servants.

Everyone ate in silence after the commander's departure. Stanley looked around the table and noticed that the servants left in the room had moved away from the walls to right behind everyone.

"Not used to the noble life, huh, Freeman?" Henry laughed as he put his napkin on his plate and stood. "Well, enjoy it! It's probably the closest to the noble life you'd ever get, not that I'd expect a Red-Lighter to know that." With those parting words, Henry bid good night to everyone and led the servant away from the dining room.

Erick was the next to leave, expressing his exhaustion from the trip. As he was going, he gave Stanley some parting words. Don't let it get to you. That's the Kistler family for you.

"Aw, the fun people are gone," Hagen said as he stood up. "No offense, guys. I'm sure you're fun too." He left without another word.

It wasn't long before Stanley was thinking about leaving as well. To his left, Kastor had been finishing his meal as well, and Leonard looked like he'd been done the entire time.

"You guys want to explore this place?" Kastor asked as he stood up. "I feel like we should take advantage of our downtime while we have it."

"You two can explore," Stanley said as he wiped his face of the final pieces of food. "I'm going to take advantage of the downtime by sleeping in a bed."

Stanley turned around and asked the servant to take him to his room. He told Kastor and Leonard he'd see them the next day and followed the servant to the large foyer in the center of the house. The foyer had ceilings as high as the house's entranceway, and two large staircases led up to the second floor. Candles were lit across the railing to allow for light to illuminate the home. Following the servant upstairs, Stanley turned around to see a large window overlooking the street outside and the lake beyond that.

"How long have you worked in this house?" Stanley asked the servant, who wore a black tuxedo and white gloves. He was slightly shorter than Stanley and looked much younger.

"Only three months," the servant replied as they reached the top of the stairs. He led Stanley down a hallway with several closed rooms. There was an open room that looked like a lounge space, but Stanley did not pry.

"What made you come here?"

The servant remained quiet before making his decision to answer. "It was the only option I had. I fled Wargia. I'm not the only one, either. Westbrook is full of people like me. Even some from Rivercrest are here. I couldn't imagine what they feel." He stopped next to a closed door and took out a key. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside. "This is your room."

The room was quite sizeable, almost as big as Stanley's entire home in the Red-Light District. A bed was positioned at the wall to his right and straight ahead was a large window draped with curtains. At the opposite end of the room, a desk stood with an unlit candle on it. The servant walked over to the desk and lit the candle, illuminating the room. He apologized that there weren't more advanced lights as in the city, but Stanley didn't mind. The moonlight had already illuminated the room, but the candle allowed Stanley to greater appreciate the room more.

The walls were patterned with intricate wallpaper, and the floor was wooden with a carpet in the center. There was a painting of another person Stanley didn't know above the bed, and around the walls were various cupboards and closets.

Handing Stanley the key he'd used moments earlier, the servant instructed him to use the lock and unlock the door. "I'll be outside the door for two more hours before heading to bed. Please do not hesitate to ask if you have any questions."

Stanley looked around his room once more and noticed the luggage which had been on the back of the carriage was sitting on one of the cupboards. Looking inside it, he saw a single set of clothes. He set aside what he thought would look good for the next day—a white button-down, black pants, and a tan vest. After setting those aside, he noticed a nightgown at the bottom of the luggage and changed into it.

He walked over to the window where he could see over all of the houses. The moon's light provided a glimpse of what the village looked like during the day. On the other side of the lake, he saw the lights of another village, much smaller than Westbrook.

After closing the window curtains, he turned to his bed and laid down, nearly passing out. Stanley had never felt better in any bed he'd laid in. The mattress below was like laying on a bed of clouds, and after tucking himself under the sheets, he felt a moment of serenity before falling asleep.

* * *

The following day, Stanley was awakened by the opening of his curtains and the sunlight hitting him in his face. The servant from the night before instructed that he go to the foyer in 30 minutes, for they were to head for Erdenjist.

Exiting the warmth of the bed, Stanley changed out of his nightgown and into the clothes he had set aside from the night before. The servant offered to help, but Stanley waved him off, saying he'd never needed help.

After following the servant down to the first floor, he noticed that he'd been the last to arrive in the foyer. Everyone had been wearing the same clothes as he had, which he found strange, but he didn't think about it too much. Alternatively, Stanley noticed Antonov, who had worn his Imperial uniform again, bearing the hat he'd seen the other soldiers wear.

"Sleep well, Freeman?" Henry grinned. "I bet that's the best sleep you'll ever get in your life."

Stanley didn't even bother to reply.

"Good morning, Sir Stanley Freeman!" Antonov said happily. "Now zat all are here, let us go!" The commander led the group out of his home to a carriage much larger than the carriage they took to Westbrook. "Zis my personal carriage. Ve vill take to Erdenjist.

Everyone piled into the carriage in the same order they went the first time around, the only exception being Antonov sitting next to Henry. Soon after the driver closed the door, the carriage began moving.

Stanley looked out the window and saw the servant he talked with waving his hand. Stanley waved back at him. May your future be better than your past.

* * *

The trip to Erdenjist was very similar to the journey to Westbrook. Long periods of silence with the occasional conversation, lots of reading from everyone, and several hours of looking out the window. The trip was significantly shorter, only lasting a few hours from end to end.

About an hour out of Erdenjist, Kastor spotted the single sign that they were getting close to their destination. The wall.

Towering over the border between Einrich and the Land of Solitude, the wall stood one hundred meters tall and cast a shadow down on the land below. It bestowed a light gray color and went as far as the eye could see.

"After training is finished," Antonov began as he continued to look out the window. "You vork inside of vall. After few years, vork top of vall, few years later, vork outside of vall."

As the carriage approached the town of Erdenjist, the wall's presence became even more prominent. Its shadow encompassed the town and made everything look like it was the middle of the night. The town was less a town and more a military base, containing barracks and cafeterias in place of townhomes and restaurants. There was the occasional citizen, but the town appeared devoid of life, with empty streets and homes.

The carriage continued to the back of the town, where it stopped right in front of the wall. Antonov exited the vehicle, and everyone followed. A brick building was in front of them with three people outside. Antonov ran up to them and saluted. They did the same. While Stanley did not recognize the men to the left and right, he'd become very acquainted with the man in the center.

"Welcome, soldiers!" The man in the center shouted. "This is the Erdenjist branch of the Imperial Guardian Force. I am Captain Jacob Asante, your branch head, and your training will begin now!"