“We have one more group to the north.” Torphin reported with a tired expression. “One of them counted four, the other saw five.”

I nodded and put six pebbles on the table. “Do we know their direction?”

“To the right.”

“Westward.” I placed a small nut on the pebbles’ right side. “Let another pair monitor the group. If the leprechauns continue like this, they might cut off Fabien and his caravan.”

I examined the table in front of me. A small ring of sticks marked the fortress’ position in the center while leaves, sand, and earth displayed a rough map of the surroundings. Pebbles and nuts depicted the size and rough position of the leprechauns’ forces.

Seven groups.

Or at least seven groups, depending on how many we overlooked.

Fifty-nine leprechauns.

Too many.

Combined with the dead ones, over a hundred leprechauns had scouted the area around the fortress.

Way too many.

Their last attack on the southern villages had been an army of around two hundred leprechauns and a Púca. But now more than half that number scouted this area in advance. If their scouting force was already this big, then how many leprechauns would lead the attack? And how many leprechauns would follow as part of the main force?

Five hundred?

A thousand?

Two thousand?

It didn’t really matter.

Any attempt to stop such a force was foredoomed. Morale, training, battlefield advantages through terrain and walls. All of them were useless. In the end, nobody would break a rock with an egg. Even if it was a cooked egg, prepared with care.

And our little fortress had neither morale nor sufficient training.

Unwinnable.

“Time for some fresh air.” I excused myself and exited the leader’s hut. Maybe the usual walk would disperse the dark thoughts?

Chilly morning air and an overcast sky greeted me outside.

Fall had arrived and winter would soon follow.

Below the gray clouds, the fortress was still asleep. Or rather, a sheer never-ending silence drowned the few sounds.

The mercenaries had accounted for nearly two-thirds of the manpower. In addition, Drew and forty recruits accompanied Fabien’s caravan. Hence, only a meager fifth of the original garrison remained inside the fortress. Most of them part of the troublemakers.

Thanks to the low morale and the nearby leprechauns, most activities had also slowed down. Whether it was cutting down trees, digging ditches, or even training, everything ran behind schedule. The troublemakers would use most of their energy to feed the resurgent complaints, whereas the motivated recruits needed to conserve some strength for cases of emergency.

Thanks to that, most squads became a mix of both groups and thwarted each other.

Unmotivated guards accompanied motivated tree fellers.

And motivated recruits guarded unmotivated diggers.

In the end, the earth walls and ditches making up the middle ring of the fortress were finished, but both the outer area and the inner wooden wall were still unfinished.

With most motivated men gone, morning training became a handful of men swinging their spears or swords on their own. And most participants of the defensive wall training only went through the motions.

A sigh escaped my lips and fled toward the covered sun.

May I be the victor the next time I stand before the sword maiden? The chasm was right in front of me. One more step in the wrong direction and my failures would become the only to report.

Where did it go wrong?

Hadn’t I seen the same sight back in the barracks? Didn’t I plan to avoid the same failure?

Then why?

“Good morning, commander.” One recruit ran along the dirt track, overtook me, stopped for a moment to bow, and continued the run toward his comrades. His arms carried a small mountain of waterskins.

Cheers reached my ears. Gentle thanks to the distance. But cheers.

So out of place in the current atmosphere.

The scene before me reminded me of my time in the village.

Little Uno and his bucket of water, running across the fields, nagging me whenever I was too close to Thea. A comical sight for the onlookers, an annoying one for me. Back then, I had been too proud to cheer for the water. Instead, I would tease him whenever he tripped over his feet, emptying the bucket onto the field.

A silent chuckle echoed through my surroundings.

More than Uno, it was his mother that had fascinated me. Not a physical attraction, but her emotions. A mother playing with her child, smiling and laughing, soothing her little boy, or reprimanding him.

What had my mother’s smile looked like?

Not that forced one she would display inside the sickroom.

But a lively one. An honest one. A peaceful one.

I had already forgotten.

But the thing that fascinated me the most wasn’t a smile or a laughter. Instead, it was her reactions to Uno’s failures.

Sometimes she would sit down and soothe him, softly caressing his hair. The next time, she would rant in front of the other farmers. At times, she would even punish him after he had tripped with his bucket.

The same action, the same result, but so many reactions.

“It’s not about the result. It’s about his heart.” Uno’s mother had explained it like this. “An honest failure needs soft hands. But a willful one needs harsh words.”

Carrot and stick.

Don’t look at the results, but the motivation.

Was this where I had gone wrong?

“Aki!” Torphin’s shout stopped my thoughts. “We have a problem!”

Back inside the hut, two nervous scouts waited for Torphin and me.

“Tell him what you saw.” Torphin’s harsh tone interrupted their greetings.

“Yes!” The left one jumped in fright. “Um… we found a new group of leprechauns. In the south… Seven… or eight… And… there was… um… we saw… that…”

“Out with it!”

“Sir.” He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “We saw a black one with bones. Like you described to us.”

“Fuck!” My unconscious scream surprised even myself. Deep breaths. Try to look calm. “No, it’s alright. You may leave.”

The two scouts displayed a hasty bow and ran out of the hut. Their facial expressions mirrored my feelings.

The moment the curtain concealed the hut’s inside once more, I kicked one of the log-seats.

“Fuck.” I repeated in a low voice. “This is too early.”

“It is.” Torphin’s answer contained no confidence.

No matter the reason, a Púca’s arrival wouldn’t be a good thing. Its strength alone was enough to topple the current fortress. I could fight it to a draw, and Drew would survive for a few minutes. But the remaining recruits? A group of under-leveled and mostly untrained recruits against an early game mini boss?

“Take those two and inform all recruits that leaving the fortress’ inner area is now forbidden. They can use the middle area to train on the walls, but no further expeditions into the forest. We won’t cut trees anymore. Only rest and training.” I placed seven pebbles and a stone on the table. “Afterwards, sent your scouts to inform Drew. Tell the caravan to stay away for now. When the other scouts return, tell them to decrease the distance they ride. No more than 1 hour away from the fortress. At least, we’ll notice their absence early.”

“I’ll tell the other commanders to gather here.” Torphin’s silent bow acknowledged my decision.

Left alone, I sat down with a thud. All my energy gone in a heartbeat.

All of this happened too fast.

Nothing was ready.

Without the mercenaries’ scouts, we already were half-blind with no information about the distant areas. The addition of a Púca would force us into complete darkness. No information, no way to call for help, and no way to send help. Stranded between enemies.

At some point, columns of smoke would appear on the horizon. Would the escaping villagers reach the fortress? Or would they die to unexpected attacks, killed before they could react?

If Rhoslyn was here, we might have a chance to drive the Púca off. With a bit of luck, we would kill it. If we had the mercenaries’ numbers, we could also avoid the Púca and hunt the other groups instead. A smaller group would guard the caravan, and the motivated recruits would finish the fortress.

But she wasn’t here.

And all I saw was the debris field in front of me.

Steps approached the hut. I forced myself off the ground, brushed the dirt off my trousers, and waited for the approaching commanders.

No matter the situation, I had to convince them to stay.

I had to find some glimmer of hope.

If the Púca stayed in the south, the caravan might return. If the caravan returned, we would have more man to defend the fortress. Drew, Torphin, and I. Together with some motivated recruits, we might be enough to fight the Púca to a draw. We could seize room to breathe.

We might persevere long enough to send a letter to Gladford.

Help us or all the recruits will retreat to the city, clearing the way for the leprechauns.

Not a glorious act, but such a threat might be enough to obtain a few mercenaries.

If only we could drive away the Púca.

One commander, a rather old fellow, entered the hut with a grim face. A second one followed right behind him. In fact, it took only around five more minutes until nine commanders and Torphin stood in front of me. Two commanders had followed Drew, so we were complete.

But further steps resounded before I had the chance to open my mouth.

Noisy.

Angry.

And a lot of them.

The next moment, the leaders of the troublemakers entered the hut as well. Five of them, Thea in front.

And the moment her wrathful eyes caught sight of me, she screamed.

“Aki! What are you doing?”