The clock struck eleven.
The manor had grown quiet, most guests either retreating to their carriages or renting the temporary inns around the marketplace. Only a few trusted workers still bustled about, finalising accounts and locking up stalls.
I stood in my room, fastening a black cloak over my shoulders.
At my side, Kael tightened the straps on his leather armour, the dull gleam of his sword barely catching the candlelight. While Felix was hidden behind us.
Sylphy pulled a dark scarf over her mouth, twin daggers glinting at her hips.
"No loud moves," I said quietly. "We let him speak first."
Kael nodded grimly. "If it's a trap, it will be loud enough without us starting it."
Sylphy only smirked, tapping one of her daggers against her wrist lightly.
We slipped out of the manor through the servant's entrance, our boots soundless against the mana-infused roads. The soft hum of the stones beneath our feet was the only reminder of the magic laced into the village itself.
The north gate loomed ahead—still unfinished but guarded by two of my trained men, armed with bows and short swords.
They saw us approach and gave a brief nod before retreating into the shadows, ready to back us if needed.
Beyond the gate, the world fell silent.
Fields stretched under the moonlight, the ancient tree's silhouette massive and serene in the distance.
And there, near the edge of the tree line, stood a figure cloaked in grey.
Sir Derrow.
He shifted nervously as I approached, alone, my sword tangled, but I wasn't worried; I was blessed with a skill of body shield, but Felix, Kael and Sylphy blended into the dark behind nearby carts and crates.
"You came," he said in a low voice, glancing around quickly as if expecting someone else to arrive too.
I stopped a few paces away, arms crossed.
"Speak," I said flatly.
Derrow hesitated, licking his lips.
"You don't know what you're sitting on," he said hurriedly. "The Divine Tree—its magic is more powerful than you realize."
"It was just a statue, though." I raised a brow.
"The power emitted from them was the same as the real one. There are factions—powerful factions—that would pay anything for it. If you work with me, I can introduce you to them. You could be richer than kings."
"And what do you gain?" I asked, voice cold.
He chuckled, a weak, nervous sound.
"I... would like a share. Small. Just recognition. A little gold."
Behind me, Kael shifted ever so slightly.
He saw it too—the sheen of sweat on Derrow's forehead, the way he fidgeted.
He was lying.
Or rather, hiding something worse.
I took a slow step forward.
"And if I refuse?"
Derrow's eyes darted around again, and suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
From the trees behind him, a group of figures emerged—five men, armed with short blades and crossbows, dressed in dark leather.
A cheap ambush.
Kael surged forward without a word, blade flashing in the moonlight.
Sylphy was a ghost, already moving through the shadows.
I didn't even draw my weapon. Instead, I calmly opened my Guardian Screen.
Activate: Defensive Formation: Ironwood Roots?
I tapped Yes.
The ground beneath the ambushers' feet exploded upward, thick roots of mana-infused wood snapping out like grasping hands. Two of the men screamed as the roots coiled around their ankles and yanked them off their feet, pinning them to the dirt.
Kael's sword sang once—shhink—and another attacker crumpled silently.
Felix danced through two more, disarming them with precise strikes to the wrist and knee, leaving them writhing on the ground. It was over in less than a minute.
Breathing heavily, Derrow dropped to his knees, trembling.
"I— I didn't mean for it to go this way!" he stammered, tears gathering in his eyes. "They said if I didn't help them, they'd kill me!"
I approached slowly, crouching down to his level.
"And who," I said softly, "are they?"
Derrow's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping on dry land. Kael pressed the tip of his sword lightly against Derrow's neck.
"Answer," Kael said simply.
Finally, Derrow croaked:
"The Black Spire. Mercenaries from the old war... They want the Divine Tree. They want you."
My eyes narrowed.
So it wasn't just greedy nobles sniffing around.
Now the true predators had caught wind of my growing village.
I stood, dusting off my cloak. "Take him," I said.
Kael and Sylphy dragged the trembling noble away.
As we returned to the village, the torches burnt low, casting long shadows on the packed roads.
The people still slept peacefully, unaware that danger had brushed so close to their doors.
But it would not end here.
The Black Spire would not give up easily, so I ordered Felix to send a spy to the mainland.
As I looked back once more toward the dark woods, my jaw tightened.
"If they want a war," I muttered, "then we'll be ready."
"I suggest we train more guards, my lord," Kael added.
With a nod I replied. "Yes, you and Felix are assigned for that. I will purchase new wares."
*****
The next morning dawned crisp and bright, but tension lingered in the air like the smell of a coming storm.
While the villagers went about their daily tasks—still unaware of the threat that loomed beyond the hills—I called a private meeting in the manor's war room.
Igor, Kael and Felix were already waiting when I arrived, a large map of the village and surrounding lands spread across the heavy oak table.
"My lord," Igor said, bowing respectfully, "we took the liberty of beginning defensive preparations last night. Felix and his men have been overseeing the work personally."
Felix, standing tall with his usual no-nonsense air, gave a short nod.
"I also deployed some of the new equipment," he added, tapping a thick finger against the map. "The ones from your homeland."
I arched an eyebrow with interest if they knew how to wield it. After all, it wasn't an ordinary bow and arrow; they were modern, something a professional athlete would use in the Olympics. I purchased it online last night.
"Show me."
A few minutes later, I ended up teaching them how to use it properly.
Soon, Felix and his men started to get used to it.
Then I introduced them to my newly purchased rifle.
Without hesitation, Felix reached into a large wooden crate beside him and pulled out one of the newly produced weapons—a matte black, short-barrelled rifle.
"It's a simplified model based on Earth designs," I explained. "Single-shot, bolt-action. No need for complex mechanisms yet."
I handed the weapon to them. It was surprisingly light but well-balanced, with clean craftsmanship.
"This is a very odd kind of weapon, my lord." Igor growled, "How to use it?"
Soon enough, I was done explaining the standard mechanics of the rifle as I grinned and pulled out a leather pouch filled with gleaming brass bullets.
"Standardised cartridges. The dwarfin smiths worked through the night replicating the mould patterns. Now it was powered by magic stone, refined into power."
Igor leaned forward, excitement in his gruff voice.
"We placed defensive lines here—" he pointed to the north and west sides of the map, where forest paths and old game trails could be used by attackers, "—and Felix's men are armed with these rifles." Felix continued, "I will train my top twenty shooters. Each man is stationed with three farmhands or villagers. They'll give the signal if anything approaches. And if necessary..."
He tapped the rifle meaningfully. "They'll mow down anything hostile before it reaches the village."
"Good, I need to start teaching you how to shoot then." I replied with eagerness, thankful that my grandpa used to bring me to the shooting range just a few blocks from our apartment.
Kael, who had been silent in the corner, finally spoke.
"How many rifles, my lord?" Felix
"Fifty," I answered. "We need more shooters. How many can you provide, Felix?"
"More or less, twenty…it's growing. By the end of the week, we'll have fifty."
Kael whistled low.
"You're starting an army," he said, half in awe, half in amusement.
I smiled faintly.
Not an army—a fortress disguised as a village.