“Sorry sir, I must have misheard.” Tucker cleared his throat and stood at attention. His eyes scanned Carl’s calm demeanor, searching for some sort of ulterior motive. “Did you just say that you wanted me to train and lead the local militia?”

  “That’s correct.” Carl gazed at Tucker and gestured for him to sit down. “You came with a high recommendation from your senior.”

  “No… you must be mistaken. There’s no way I would be recommended to lead by anyone. I’ve never done it before.” Tucker forced a smile, but Carl ignored his words. “Besides, I have done nothing noteworthy for you to even consider me as a choice.”

  “Salamander would say otherwise.” Carl fixed his gaze beyond the horizon and towards the Empire. “He thinks quite highly of you.”

  ”I doubt it.” Tucker sat down on the red velvet chair and sighed. “There are other watchmen more qualified to lead. I don’t have an ounce of that trait in me.”

  “I would disagree. They’re all rookies.”

  “I’m also a rookie.”

  “One who has accomplished a tremendous amount in their short time compared to his peers.” Carl turned to Tucker with his hands behind his back. “You see, I did a background check on you after Salamander sent me this letter, and it seems you aren’t exactly just a rookie.”

  “That’s an invasion of privacy,” Tucker remarked.

  “Perhaps, but you come from a prestigious military family. The Welfords have a long-established history as nobles in the army.”

  “Yet none of that involves me. I’m a bastard born out of wedlock.” Tucker leaned back. “I wasn’t given any formal training or education on that type of shit.”

  “Yes, but it’s in your blood to lead.”

  Tucker flinched at his words. “Nothing is decided the moment you’re born. Just because I inherited that piece of shit’s legacy doesn’t mean I’m anything like them.”

  “Then that’s all the more reason for you to lead.” Carl focused on the militia that was stationed at the outer walls. “You’re a Welford, but I can tell that you aren’t like your siblings. You don’t see people as a means to an end.” The commander watched his men patrol the outer walls with knots in his heart. “You see, the lives of three hundred men who aren’t properly trained will die in the upcoming days. I simply want to give them a fighting chance so that they can live longer.”

  “That’s all the more reason for you to find someone else,” Tucker countered.

  “Do you think I haven’t tried?” Carl asked with anger in his voice. “We’re stretched far beyond our limits, and we only have a few weeks until the Empire launches their attack. Those bastards are right at our doorstep. If someone doesn’t give them some sort of training, there’s no telling how many of them will live to see the next day.”

  “Sir… I understand, but I’m not good enough to—”

  “Your group is the only one we have available to lead.” Carl cut Tucker off. “If you don’t think you can handle it by yourself, then have your comrades help you.”

  “There’s no way those guys would agree.”

  “It’s your job to convince them.” Carl held the letter that Alex had written. “Salamander told me you had a good heart. One that didn’t turn their back on those that depended on him. So show me that he was right and prove it.”

  Tucker sat there deep in thought. From the past few days, he could tell they were a disorganized bunch of soldiers and if someone didn’t at least guide them, then they would be nothing more than fodder. Such a thing didn’t sit well with him. However, he genuinely knew that he didn’t have what it took to lead a group of soldiers, but if push comes to shove. The very least he could do was train them. “I’ll train them with the others, but I won’t lead them. That’s just not something within my capabilities, and you’ll have to take my word on it.”

  The commander of the bastion slowly exhaled. Whether the watchman would be suitable to lead was something that only time could tell, but they didn’t have that luxury. A month was their limit, and he had already assigned his men to their respective roles. Shuffling his men around would only bring discord within his ranks, and the arrogant nobles supporting him were anything but useful.

  He could push harder for Tucker to take the role, but forcing someone into a position they don’t want could have negative effects beyond his control. For now, this compromise would work, however, that meant that his expectations for their training would be greater than before. If anything, another watchman within their ranks could rise to the challenge.

  “Very well. You’ll train them with the other watchmen until I find someone to lead them.” Carl nodded and took out a small badge from his drawer. He threw it towards Tucker. “Wear this for now. Once the militia sees it, they’ll understand that I sent you there to train them.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The watchman caught the silver badge that was in the shape of a shield, with a single sword going down through the center. He had no clue what the hell it was and placed it in his pocket. “Alright, now that we’ve reached an agreement. What’s in it for me?”

  Carl raised a brow and stared at him in confusion. “What?”

  “Of course, there should be something for me in exchange, right?”

  “You’ll get a bump in your pay.”

  “That’s one thing, but for us to manage a group of three hundred in such a short time deserves a little bit more of a reward, don’t you think?”

  “Then… what is it that you want?”

  “I want our entire group to be excluded from patrols and grunt work.” Tucker’s bright smile caused Carl to frown.

  “No one gets out of grunt work.” Carl shook his head and brought his teacup to his lips. Taking a small sip as the swirls of steam danced in the air with its sweet aroma. “It’s a way for us to bridge each platoon by building a sense of unity.”

  “Then, in that case, I want double the supplies for our group.” Tucker’s grin widened as Carl nearly choked on his drink.

  “You… I’m asking you to train them not to rob me.” Carl glared at Tucker. “I’ll reduce the amount of grunt work you have to do, but your men would have to continue their fair share.”

  “Reduce mine and the other watchmen’s work,” Tucker shot back.

  “Fine, but I expect the most disciplined group of soldiers in the world.” Carl held out his hand as Tucker stood up and shook it with a firm grip. “If they’re still the same lazy and lackluster soldiers in the bastion, I’ll dock your pay, and you have to make up all the grunt work you missed.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make them one of the best groups of soldiers within the bastion.” Tucker took a step back and saluted the commander.

  “Good, you’re free to go.”

  Tucker watched as Carl returned the salute before taking his leave. Truth be told, he didn’t expect to be completely free of grunt work, but any reduction would save precious hours he could dedicate to spirit training. The only problem now was he had no clue what to do.

  .

  .

  .

  Tucker cleared his throat and sat before Luka and another watchman with brown hair and sharp hazelnut eyes. They both stared at him with their glasses filled with water, which was completely untouched on the surface of the wooden table they were seated at. All of them were in the small living quarters designated for the watchmen—a single room with a single bunk bed for Luka and Tucker. Yet they had been called once Tucker had thought of a half-decent strategy. The only question now was whether they were with him or not.

  “So? What did the commander want?” Luka asked.

  “Well… he wanted us to train the militia,” Tucker replied, taking a small sip of his water.

  Luka paused for a moment. “What?”

  “Yes… he wanted you, Eric, and the other watchmen to help train the militia.” Tucker took another small sip and glanced at Eric, who was seated beside Luka, unfazed by the news.

  “Did he ask us to help train them, or you?” Eric asked.

  Tucker brought his fist towards his mouth and let out a dry cough. Gazing to the side as their glares pierced right through him. He knew Eric was a bit too sharp for his own good, but he never thought that his brown-haired friend would catch on so quickly. “That’s right… he asked me to help train them, but I can’t do it without your help, so the commander said he would reduce all of our grunt work if we get decent results.”

  “You know, if you just put it like that, we would gladly help.” Luka leaned over the table and rested his head in the palm of his hands. “We’re not strangers or anything, but the other three… well, good luck with those guys.”

  “I wouldn’t even worry about the other watchmen,” Eric added. “It’s the militia that’s the problem. Will they even listen to us?”

  “Well… they better because if they don’t, they’ll probably all die,” Tucker said.

  The two watchmen narrowed their eyes and glanced at each other with a sense of unease. Luka broke the silence first. “What do you mean by that?”

  “The commander has told me the Empire plans to attack in the next few weeks.” Tucker took one final sip of his drink. “If we don’t figure something out, then their chances of survival are slim.” He took out the silver badge from his pocket and slid it across the surface of the table to the other watchmen. “The commander gave me that and basically said good luck and figure it out.”

  Eric gazed at the badge and chuckled. “You were appointed as a Captain. No wonder he told you to figure it out. There has to be some trust that you’ll do fine for you to receive that rank.”

  “Tucker? A Captain?” Luka grinned and held back his laughter. “I never thought I would see the day.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t even know that badge meant I was a captain, but if anything, it’s temporary until the commander finds someone else to fill the role. He just told me they would listen when I show it to them.” Tucker shrugged his shoulders. “That being said, I did have an idea that would probably help since we have to manage three hundred soldiers.” He took out a page from his leather pouch and placed it on the table for them to see. “If we split the soldiers among the six of us, we would each only have to manage fifty men.”

  “Right… and your plan is to have four infantry and two archer platoons?” Eric asked.

  “That’s basically it. Having a decent amount of men with shields that are properly trained to repel attacks could be useful,” Tucker replied.

  “I see… then you would have the archers deal damage to whatever units are striking the infantry.” Eric rubbed his chin with his hand. “It’s a pretty good idea that should be achievable in a month.”

  “And the training for the shield bearers is for them to endure our attacks…” Luka thought about it for a moment before grinning. “This doubles as training for us because it allows us to practice control over our spirit essence.”

  “Exactly, so that means all we have to do now is get the militia and the other watchmen on the same page.” Tucker filled his cup with water from a nearby jug and raised it. Prompting the others to join him. “If we do this right, we avoid grunt work, get a little more pay, and have some more free time.”

  “You can leave convincing the other watchmen to me.” Luka raised his cup.

  “And I have an idea for the militia to get them on board as well.” Eric followed Luka’s gesture.

  The three of them brought their cups together, filling the small room with a sense of camaraderie as a small clink echoed. Tucker didn’t know what was needed for him in his new role, but that didn’t matter. With friends like Eric and Luka, they would slowly get through this dilemma together. There were thirty divisions within the bastion, and with him as the captain of this local group of militia, they would soon form the thirty-first. They had no idea if it would work or if they could survive the upcoming battle, but for now, it was a start.