The markets of Valoria bustled with a quiet energy that had not been felt in years. Stalls lined the main street, offering everything from salted fish to dyed cloth. Children ran barefoot between carts, laughing and chasing one another. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread drifted through the air, mingling with the sweet tang of apples and the iron tang of the blacksmiths' forge not far away.
At a corner near the baker's stall, three older men sat on overturned crates, watching the crowd go by with the slow patience of men who had seen the town through better and worse.
"Place feels different," muttered one, rubbing his weathered hands together. "Not as loud. Not as angry."
"That is what happens when the guards actually patrol," said another, nodding toward two soldiers walking down the road in perfect step. Their boots hit the stone in unison, and they carried real weapons not rusted spears, but polished swords and steel breastplates that caught the morning light.
"Aye," the third man added. "The new lord, Aldric he is not just talk. He fixed the old bridge outside town. Trade wagons are back on the road, and you can feel it. There is coin in the air again."
"And did you see the blacksmith district? Sparks fly from dawn to dusk. They say the dwarves are making new weapons. Strange ones. Nothing like I have seen before."
The first man leaned forward, lowering his voice. "What kind of weapons?"
The others shrugged.
"No one knows," said the second. "But I heard they made something that roars like thunder. One strike, and a man is dead before he even draws his sword."
The three fell silent for a moment, each thinking back on the battles of the past.
"About time someone took charge," the third man finally said. "I remember when pirates used to raid the coast, and no one lifted a finger. And when the previous lord did, he suffered terribly."
"That may be happening again," said a voice behind them.
They turned to see a young woman carrying a basket of apples. She wore a simple brown dress and a thin wool shawl draped over her shoulders. Her eyes were tired, but alert.
"What do you mean?" the first man asked.
"My cousin lives in Dalmore, near the coast. A fishing village," she said. "She sent word yesterday. Pirates attacked two nights ago. No warning. They took everything."
The second man's face tightened. "What happened to the villagers?"
"She said many escaped into the woods. But the pirates stayed. Took over the whole village. My cousin said they set up camp like they meant to stay."
"Dalmore is not far from Glenrock," the third man said quietly. "If they move inland—"
"They will not reach us," said the first, shaking his head. "Not with the lord training an army. Not with these new weapons being forged."
But even as he spoke, doubt lingered in his eyes.
Far to the south, along the rocky coastline, smoke curled from the thatched roofs of Dalmore and Willowport—two small villages that once bustled with life and now stood under pirate control.
Gone were the fishermen mending their nets and children playing by the docks. Now, strange flags flew over the harbors, marked with the black crest of Garron's fleet. Armed men patrolled the muddy paths, dragging sacks of grain from houses and herding frightened villagers into silence.
A rough banner had been raised over the largest house in Dalmore, where the pirate captain held council with his men.
Captain Garron, a man hardened by countless raids and battles, leaned over a hand-drawn map of the coast. He was an advanced aura user with years of battle experience, he had ran from his previous country due to failed treason and has established a powerful pirate force. He tapped his finger near the rivers that led inland.
"This county is soft," he said. "It has gold. It has land. But no ships. No real garrison. That is why we take it."
One of his lieutenants, a man with a broken nose and heavy beard, grunted. "They say the new lord is training peasants to fight."
Garron snorted. "Let him train them. Pitchforks and farm hands will not stop steel. We even killed the previous lord and repelled their army. We are the reason this county fears the sea."
Another pirate laughed from the corner. "They have no fleet. No cannons. We strike from the sea and vanish like smoke."
Garron straightened. "No more vanishing. We hold Dalmore and Willowport. From here, we move inland. Slow and careful. We take the villages one by one until this new lord kneels like the last."
The room fell quiet.
"We will raid the trade roads," Garron continued. "Bleed them dry. Kill a few merchants. Send a message. The people will grow afraid. They will not fight back. Their new lord is young. He will break."
"And what of the castle?" the bearded man asked. "Windsor?"
Garron grinned. "We let them come to us. I want them to march out proud, with drums and banners. Then we crush them like we did previously , they don't even have enough men since the previous campaign."
Outside, the villagers of Dalmore watched from behind broken fences and shuttered windows as their homes were turned into a military camp. The pirates took their food, their boats, and their dignity. Some of the villagers whispered of escape, but none dared run. Not yet.
Back in Windsor, Aldric stood in the main hall, watching the vassals gather for the weekly announcement and meeting. Gale stepped forward with his scroll, reading out updated patrol routes, modest tax relief, and progress on rebuilding the granary destroyed two winters ago.
When Gale stepped down, Aldric remained.
"I know many of you have questions," he said, his voice clear. "You have seen the soldiers training. You have heard the blacksmiths working day and night. Change is coming, but it is not without purpose."
They leaned in, listening.
"We are on our way to a speedy progress and many change have been happening , I am proud of it as the lord."
He paused.
"There are dangers on the coast," he continued. "Some of you may have heard about Dalmore. I will not lie to you. Pirates have taken it. Willowport has also fallen."
A quiet murmur spread through the crowd. Fear crept in, like a cold wind.
"But we will not cower," Aldric said firmly. "Let them think us weak. Let them take villages with no walls and no weapons. I believe we are having adequate preparation for it. They do not know what is coming."
A few heads nodded. Others still looked uncertain. Fear was not so easily swept away, but something else stirred with it hope.
That night, as Aldric returned to his castle after a brief supervision around the city, he met with Ronald in the war room.
"Dalmore and Willowport," Ronald said, tapping the parchment map. "We have confirmation from scouts. They have fortified both villages and are using the old docks to bring in more men."
"How many pirates?" Aldric asked.
"Hard to say. Around four thousand to five thousand. More could come. Their banners match the same ones that flew when your father was ambushed. I believe it is the same group."
Aldric folded his arms. "Then this is not just a raid. They want the entire county."
"They do. And they have the numbers for it."
"They have no idea we are preparing something different," Aldric said quietly.
"No," Ronald agreed. "Maybe we could ask some help from the nearby territories, my lord."
"It's the same as the pirates having the territory, those hungry nobles will demand more compensation anyways." Aldric replied with a slight smile.
"I agree, my lord I will start to prepare the new recruits more vigorously."
"The Knights from Steelheart Order's are always at your service too, my lord. We shall not fail you." Ronald replied in a determined voice.
"I know, Sir Ronald. We have to give it our all for the county's future." Ronald replied in accordance. He knew it was only a matter of time before the battle between him and the pirates.