The smoke from the battle still clung to the branches when dawn broke over the forest of Mavron. Crows circled above the trees, and the stench of blood and damp soil mixed with the mist like a silent curse.
Aldric stepped over a shattered helmet, his boots sinking into the mud. The once green forest now whispered of death.
Pierre walked beside him, pale and quiet. He hadn't spoken since the night before.
—"We won," Aldric murmured, not knowing if he was speaking to himself or to Pierre. —"But look at this… This doesn't feel like victory."
Pierre nodded slowly.
—"It feels like a warning."
They stopped near a pile of corpses where Charles stood, wiping his blade, his armor dented and smeared with blood. He raised his eyes when Aldric approached.
—"This cost us too much," Charles said bluntly. —"Even if we stopped the duke's advance, it's a temporary pause. He'll come back. Stronger."
—"He won't be the same after this," Aldric replied. —"Neither will we."
Charles studied him for a moment. There was no contempt this time. Just exhaustion. And maybe a flicker of respect, buried deep beneath the weariness.
—"Your trap worked. I'll give you that," Charles said. —"But if you keep playing with fire, we'll all burn."
Aldric didn't respond. He was already thinking ahead.
That afternoon, back in Hautterre, the survivors returned, wounded but alive. The people received them with cautious eyes—some cheered, others simply watched in silence. The castle courtyard turned into a makeshift infirmary. The chapel echoed with whispered prayers.
Aldric washed his hands in a basin, watching the blood swirl into the water. Pierre brought him clean clothes and a fresh cloak.
—"You should rest, my lord."
—"Later."
He pulled on the cloak and walked toward the council chamber. The doors were already open. Inside, his captains, the steward, and the old priest were waiting.
The mood was tense.
—"We stopped the duke's flank," Aldric began. —"But it won't be long before he regroups. This wasn't a final blow. It was a message."
One of the captains, a man named Jehan, crossed his arms.
—"What message, exactly? That we can bleed him?"
—"That we're not prey. That Hautterre knows how to bite," Aldric said. —"And now, we need to do more than defend. We must make this place matter. Turn it into a force. A symbol."
The priest cleared his throat.
—"The people are afraid. They see victory, yes, but also too much death. And they still ask: why fight? Why not surrender?"
Aldric's voice grew firm.
—"Because if we surrender, we disappear. And if we only fight… we burn out. That's why we build."
—"Build what?" asked Charles, entering the room with slow steps.
Aldric turned toward him.
—"A new order. One that doesn't bow to corrupted dukes or greedy nobles. One where strength doesn't come from bloodline, but from vision."
A silence fell. The kind that stings the air before it clears.
Then Jehan smirked faintly.
—"You talk like you've seen it done before."
Aldric met his eyes.
—"Maybe I have."
That night, as the fires flickered in the watchtowers and the stars peeked through the clouds, Aldric climbed the ramparts. Pierre followed, carrying a rolled-up map.
—"The scouts returned from the east," he said. —"Two barons are repositioning. They haven't committed to the duke yet… but they're watching."
Aldric unrolled the map on the stone, his finger tracing the region's edges.
—"We'll send envoys. Not to beg. To offer them something better."
—"What if they say no?"
Aldric smiled faintly.
—"Then they'll learn the price of choosing wrong."
He leaned against the wall, eyes on the forest beyond. The wind was cold, but his mind burned with purpose.
Behind him, Pierre hesitated.
—"Do you ever doubt, my lord? Even a little?"
Aldric didn't look at him.
—"Every day. But I keep walking. Because doubt… doubt reminds me I haven't turned into a monster yet."
Pierre nodded, though he didn't fully understand. He looked at the young lord beside him—mud-stained, blood-worn, with eyes that had seen too much.
And he realized something terrifying.
Aldric wasn't just surviving this world.
He was shaping it.