The village was no longer just a settlement—it was a fortress in the making.
Leon's orders had set everything into motion.
Men and women worked tirelessly, digging trenches, setting up spike traps, and reinforcing weak points along the village's perimeter. The Ironfang prisoners, under strict supervision, were put to work strengthening the walls.
But the real battle would be won before the enemy ever reached the gates.
And so, the first phase of Leon's plan was about to begin.
---
Sabotage and Fear
Darius led a small group of warriors deep into the forest, their bodies clad in dark cloaks, blending into the shadows. Their mission was simple—harass and weaken the enemy long before they reached the village.
They struck first at night.
A small detachment of Reinhardt's scouts had camped near a river. They never saw the attack coming.
Darius and his men moved silently, cutting throats and slitting tent flaps to let the cold night air seep in. By the time the last soldier awoke, only corpses remained.
One man was left alive—deliberately.
They bound him, gagged him, and left him hanging from a tree with a single warning carved into his chest:
"Turn back, or you will all die."
---
A Message to Reinhardt
By dawn, the surviving scout had stumbled back to Reinhardt's camp, bleeding and gasping for breath.
Lord Reinhardt himself, a broad-shouldered man in his forties with graying hair and piercing blue eyes, listened as the trembling man reported what had happened.
A cold silence settled over the noble's war tent.
"Bandits?" one of his officers suggested.
"No," Reinhardt muttered, rubbing his chin. "This was calculated. Precise. It's the work of a tactician."
"You think the village has a leader capable of such a thing?"
Reinhardt's lips curled into a smirk.
"I think we've underestimated this 'Leon' character."
The officer frowned. "Should we reconsider the attack?"
"Absolutely not," Reinhardt said firmly. "We proceed. But now, we proceed carefully."
The noble was no fool. Whoever this Leon was, he was dangerous.
And that only made Reinhardt more interested.
---
Strengthening the Defenses
Back at the village, Leon watched as his forces prepared.
The Ironfang prisoners had been forced to dig deep trenches at key points, their backs soaked with sweat under the watchful gaze of armed guards.
Wooden spikes were planted along likely attack routes. Oil barrels were placed on the watchtowers—ready to be set ablaze and turned into fire traps.
And finally, Leon issued one last command.
"Flood the trenches."
The villagers diverted a nearby stream into the trenches, creating mud-filled death traps that would slow and exhaust the enemy.
By the time Reinhardt's forces arrived, they wouldn't be facing a village.
They would be facing a fortress.
---
The Final Night Before Battle
The village was quiet as night fell.
Men sharpened their blades. Arrows were counted. Armor was strapped on with steady hands.
Elara stood beside Leon on the watchtower, looking out into the dark forest where the enemy would soon emerge.
"Do you think we can win?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Leon didn't hesitate. "Yes."
She turned to him. "How can you be so sure?"
He met her gaze. "Because I refuse to lose."
A small smile touched her lips, but worry still lingered in her eyes.
"If we do win… what then?"
Leon's expression hardened.
"Then we take the fight to them."
Elara's breath caught in her throat. "You mean…?"
"Reinhardt came to crush us before we became a threat." Leon's eyes burned with cold determination. "But once we defeat him, we'll do the same to him."
"We won't just survive this war, Elara."
"We'll conquer it."
---
The Battle for Dominion
The sun had barely risen when the first horn sounded.
Leon stood atop the watchtower, his gaze locked on the tree line where Lord Reinhardt's forces had begun to emerge.
Two hundred men.
A disciplined, well-equipped force of armored soldiers, archers, and mounted cavalry. Banners fluttered in the wind, bearing the sigil of the Western Dominion—a black wolf against a golden field.
Despite their numbers, Leon felt no fear.
This was exactly what he had prepared for.
---
The Enemy Approaches
Reinhardt's forces marched in formation, their steel glinting under the morning light. The cavalry stayed near the rear, while infantry advanced cautiously.
The noble himself rode a massive warhorse, flanked by his officers.
He surveyed the village with a critical eye. From the outside, it looked like a simple settlement—but he wasn't fooled. He had seen the signs of fortifications, the hidden traps.
"Archers, prepare!"
The order rang out from the village walls.
Reinhardt smirked. "So they're willing to fight after all. Good."
He raised a hand.
"Advance. Slowly."
The first wave of infantry moved forward, shields raised, stepping into the open fields before the village.
And then—
---
The First Strike
SNAP!
A soldier screamed as the ground beneath him gave way. A spiked pit swallowed him whole, impaling his body.
Chaos erupted as the advancing troops hesitated. Some stepped backward—only to fall into more hidden traps.
Panic spread.
Then, from the watchtowers—
"LOOSE!"
Arrows rained down.
The front lines of Reinhardt's army were instantly thrown into disorder. Shields were raised, but the well-placed traps made proper formation impossible.
Smoke bombs detonated, shrouding the battlefield in confusion.
Then, from the trees—
Darius and his raiding team struck.
Like wraiths in the mist, they appeared from the forest's edge, launching hit-and-run attacks. Daggers flashed, throats were slit, and fires ignited within enemy supply wagons.
---
Reinhardt's Counterattack
"Regroup!" Reinhardt's voice boomed across the battlefield.
His officers quickly rallied the troops, forming a defensive line to counter the guerrilla tactics.
"Archers! Fire into the tree line!"
Flaming arrows streaked into the forest, forcing Darius's group to retreat.
Reinhardt turned to his cavalry. "Charge!"
The mounted knights surged forward, their armor gleaming as they thundered toward the village gates.
Leon watched from above, his expression unreadable.
Then—he gave the order.
"Light the trenches."
Torches were thrown. The oil-filled trenches ignited instantly, transforming into blazing walls of fire.
The charging cavalry had no time to stop.
Horses reared, soldiers fell, and screams filled the air as flames consumed them.
---
The Turning Point
Reinhardt's face twisted in fury.
This wasn't a battle. This was a carefully planned slaughter.
But he wasn't done yet.
"Break through the barricades! Force your way in!"
Leon smirked.
"Let them in."
Darius and his remaining forces pulled back into the village, allowing a portion of the enemy infantry to break through the barricades.
Once they were inside—
The real trap was sprung.
Boiling oil was poured from rooftops, turning streets into death zones. Spearmen emerged from hidden alleys, cutting down soldiers caught in the chaos.
The attackers had walked straight into a kill box.
Reinhardt, still outside the walls, realized the truth.
"Fall back! FALL BACK!"
But it was too late.
---
The Battle's End
By nightfall, the battlefield was silent.
Leon stood amidst the bodies of fallen enemies, his blade dripping with blood.
The village had held. The enemy was broken.
And Lord Reinhardt?
Captured.
The once-proud noble knelt before Leon, bound in chains, his face dark with anger and humiliation.
"You…" Reinhardt spat. "You think this is over? My city… my allies… they will come for you."
Leon knelt to meet his gaze, eyes cold.
"Let them."
And with that, the real war for dominion began.
---
End of Chapter 6.