Vincent sat in his office, a thick stack of reports laid neatly on his desk. The dim candlelight flickered, casting shadows across the room as he slowly turned page after page. It had been a few days since his return, and he had spent most of his time catching up on the affairs of the territory. The workload was immense, but he was relieved to see that Vivian had handled everything admirably in his absence.
The financial expenditures on the new market district were within acceptable limits. However, what truly weighed on their treasury was Vivian's medical program providing free medical care and medicine to the citizens. It was a costly endeavor, but one that had already begun to yield positive results. The people were happier, productivity was rising, and the goodwill it generated made Ravennest's rule stronger than ever. Still, the financial strain was something he had to keep a close eye on.
As he was about to turn to the next document, a soft knock echoed through the room.
"Come in," he said, already knowing who it was.
Sebastian entered silently, his expression as composed as ever, yet Vincent could sense the tension in the air. Without waiting for an invitation, the knight walked forward and placed a single sheet of paper onto Vincent's desk.
"The second attempt," Sebastian said simply.
Vincent closed his eyes briefly before exhaling. He had been expecting this. After the first, poorly executed attempt on Zach's life, he knew someone would try again. The first time had been rushed and sloppy, but this time, the enemy had sent a trained assassin.
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the wooden surface. "Tell me everything."
Sebastian nodded. "The assassin was already waiting in the young master's room before he even arrived. His orders were to eliminate the young lord and plant false evidence that would implicate Frosthold. However, I noticed his presence before he could act. I subdued him immediately and had him placed under tight watch."
Vincent's gaze darkened. "And?"
Sebastian's expression didn't change, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes. "The moment he regained consciousness, he bit into a concealed poison capsule. He was dead within seconds. We found no identifying markers on his body except for this." He gestured to the paper on Vincent's desk.
Vincent picked it up and studied it carefully. It was a forged letter, supposedly from a noble in Frosthold, instructing the assassin to eliminate Zach. The handwriting was precise, but Vincent could tell it was a fabrication. Whoever was behind this was attempting to stir conflict between Ravennest and Frosthold.
"This was well-planned," Vincent murmured, his fingers tightening slightly around the document.
Sebastian nodded. "Your orders?"
Vincent exhaled, placing the letter down. "Increase the security within the mansion. Double the night patrols, reinforce Zach's personal guards, and be discreet about it. I don't want him to know. If he finds out, he'll overthink things and put himself in unnecessary danger."
Sebastian bowed slightly. "Understood."
As Sebastian turned to leave, Vincent spoke once more. "Find out where this forged letter came from. If they want to blame Frosthold, then we need to uncover who benefits the most from that conflict."
Sebastian paused before nodding. "I'll get to the bottom of it."
Vincent sat in his dimly lit office, his fingers laced together as he stared at the reports scattered across his desk. His mind was a storm of calculations and possibilities, each thread of thought leading to more uncertainty. The attempt on Zach's life was no longer just an isolated incident it was part of a larger scheme. The real question was, who was behind it?
There had to be a reason for this escalation. Assassinations were not acts committed lightly, especially against noble blood. Whoever was orchestrating this had something to gain, but what? Was it purely an attempt to weaken Ravennest, or was the true target Frosthold?
Leo's latest report suggested that Frosthold had become a den of criminal activity, far worse than before. Even after one of its nobles had been executed, the rot still remained. This wasn't just a noble's personal greed corrupting the city there was something deeper, something entrenched within its very foundation.
Vincent sighed and leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "If this is truly about Frosthold, then what's their endgame?" he murmured to himself.
Ravennest, in contrast, was relatively safe. His territory was small, which made it easier to govern. Crime was manageable, and any syndicate trying to establish itself would be swiftly uprooted. But Frosthold was a different beast entirely. It was a merchant city, one that thrived on trade and commerce, with countless visitors coming and going daily. Monitoring every individual, every transaction, and every deal was an impossible task.
"A perfect breeding ground for crime," he muttered.
The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that Frosthold was the more vulnerable target. If someone wanted to destabilize the region, striking at Frosthold would cause chaos far beyond its borders.
Still, that didn't explain why Zach was a target. Was it merely to throw suspicion onto Frosthold? Or was there another reason? Something more personal?
Vincent exhaled sharply. "If I move too soon, I risk making enemies out of people I don't even know yet. If I wait too long, I might lose my chance to strike first."
He tapped his fingers against the wood of his desk. This wasn't a simple matter of criminals running rampant it was a war in the shadows, one that required patience, precision, and absolute control. And right now, Vincent didn't have enough information to act.
"I need to know who's behind this before making a move."
There was no easy solution, no direct path forward. But if there was one thing Vincent knew, it was that every plan had a weakness. And he would find it.
Vincent reached for the letter and passed it to Sebastian, who had been silently waiting for his decision.
"Deliver this to Frosthold immediately," Vincent instructed. "Make sure it reaches the right hands."
Sebastian took the letter without hesitation. "Understood."
As Sebastian left, Vincent decided to take a break from the endless cycle of strategizing and planning. He needed a change of pace, something to clear his mind.
"Perhaps I should check in on Rendon," he mused.
The security office was his next destination. He wanted to see how things were running in his absence, and he knew Rendon had been tasked with handling security matters while he was gone. However, when he arrived at the office, the sight that greeted him was not what he expected.
Albert, the vice commander of security, was slumped over his desk, looking utterly exhausted. Stacks of paperwork surrounded him, and the dark circles under his eyes suggested that he had been at this for quite some time. The sight amused Vincent more than it concerned him.
Albert barely noticed Vincent's presence until he cleared his throat.
"Where's Rendon?" Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow.
Albert groaned, rubbing his temples. "Oh, he's 'busy,' my Lord."
Vincent narrowed his eyes. "Busy?"
Albert scoffed. "Yes, busy avoiding his responsibilities. He's at the training grounds, watching the soldiers train, while I'm stuck here dealing with all of this." He gestured to the mountain of paperwork in front of him with an exasperated sigh.
Vincent chuckled. "I see. He left all the paperwork to you?"
Albert gave him a deadpan look. "Not just left it to me he outright dumped it on my desk and said, 'You handle it. I've been gone too long, so you owe me this much.'"
Vincent couldn't help but laugh. "And you let him get away with it?"
Albert threw his hands up. "Do I have a choice? I'm not about to chase him down in front of the soldiers and drag him back here. He'd just make a scene and somehow turn it into my fault."
Vincent shook his head, still amused. Rendon had always been a hands-on leader, preferring to be in the field rather than buried in paperwork. He trusted Albert to handle administrative tasks, even if it meant shamelessly dumping extra work on him.
"You don't deserve this," Vincent admitted, smirking.
Albert sighed dramatically. "Finally, someone who understands my suffering."
Vincent crossed his arms. "I suppose I should go see Rendon myself. If nothing else, I'd like to hear his reasoning for abandoning you to this cruel fate."
Albert perked up slightly. "Oh, please do. And while you're at it, tell him he's banned from making any more excuses for the rest of the month."
Vincent chuckled as he turned to leave. "I'll see what I can do."
As he made his way toward the training grounds, he couldn't help but feel lighter. Despite the heavy burdens weighing on his shoulders, moments like these reminded him why he fought so hard to protect Ravennest. Leadership wasn't just about strategy and battle it was about the people who stood beside him, even in the face of hardship.
And as long as he had those people, he would ensure that Ravennest remained strong.
Vincent walked through the training grounds, the rhythmic clash of steel against steel filling the air. The scent of sweat and dust mixed with the crisp morning breeze as soldiers pushed themselves through rigorous drills. His sharp eyes swept over the field, watching as the men moved with precision, their discipline evident in every strike and block.
Among them, a particular scene caught his attention. In one corner of the training ground, a group of ten recruits surrounded a single opponent. That opponent was none other than Rendon, the captain of his guard, and from the way the battle was unfolding, it was clear who had the upper hand.
Rendon moved like a phantom, weaving between attacks with terrifying speed. His sword flickered in the sunlight, disarming one recruit with a single twist of his wrist, sending another sprawling to the ground with a well-placed strike to the legs. The recruits fought desperately, but their inexperience showed. They barely had time to react before Rendon struck them down one by one, his grin never fading. To him, this was merely an amusing game. To the recruits, however, it was a nightmare.
Vincent smirked. Even without speaking, he could tell Rendon was enjoying himself far too much.
As if sensing his presence, Rendon paused, glancing toward the edge of the training field. The moment his gaze met Vincent's, his playful expression shifted slightly. With a final burst of movement, he ended the sparring session in an instant, delivering swift but controlled blows that sent the remaining recruits toppling onto the ground. A collective groan of defeat echoed from the exhausted soldiers.
Rendon chuckled and sheathed his sword before making his way toward Vincent. Seeing their captain move, the rest of the soldiers immediately snapped to attention, their exhausted bodies trembling as they hurried to stand in formation.
"Lord Vincent!" they all shouted in unison, their voices brimming with energy despite their fatigue.
Vincent nodded in approval. "Good. Continue your training," he commanded, his deep voice carrying authority yet lacking any harshness.
The soldiers saluted before resuming their drills, though it was evident that their movements carried renewed vigor after their lord's presence was acknowledged.
Rendon took a seat at the nearby table where Vincent was waiting. He wiped the sweat from his brow before leaning back, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was fun," he mused, amusement lacing his tone.
Vincent smirked. "More like bullying."
Rendon chuckled, shaking his head. "They need to learn somehow. Better they suffer here than die out there."
Vincent leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Are you well?" he asked.
Rendon quirked an eyebrow. "Of course. Why?"
Vincent folded his hands on the table. "I want to personally thank you for what you've done while I was away. You protected my son. That's not something I take lightly."
Rendon's usual playful demeanor softened into something more composed. "It was my duty, my lord. There's no need for thanks."
Vincent nodded, though his gaze remained sharp. "Regardless, I appreciate it."
For a moment, silence settled between them, only the distant sounds of training filling the air. Then Vincent spoke again, his tone heavier this time. "I need you to continue increasing the number of soldiers."
Rendon's casual stance straightened slightly. His sharp instincts caught the weight behind Vincent's words. "Why?" he asked, his voice losing its usual levity.
Vincent exhaled slowly, knowing that what he was about to reveal would set the tone for the coming days. "Because we might need them soon."
Rendon's expression turned serious. "What's the situation?"
Vincent glanced around, ensuring no prying ears were nearby, then leaned in slightly. "I have a plan, but it carries significant risks. I intend to propose it to Leo soon, and if he agrees, we will stage a false war with Frosthold."
Rendon's eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for Vincent to elaborate.
Vincent continued, his voice low and controlled. "This entire situation is being orchestrated by someone. They attempted to assassinate Zach twice, and they planted false evidence to pit us against Frosthold. They want conflict between us, and they have plans for both of our territories. I intend to use their expectations against them."
Rendon crossed his arms, his mind already working through the implications. "By pretending to wage war, you're forcing the enemy to act?"
Vincent nodded. "Exactly. If we make a public show of preparing for battle, those who wish to take advantage of this situation will reveal themselves. We'll watch carefully for those who suddenly try to offer us 'aid.' Those individuals will likely have ties to our hidden enemy."
Rendon leaned back, contemplating the plan. It was dangerous, but it was also cunning. "And increasing the soldiers publicly will make these rats more confident. They'll think you're falling into their trap."
Vincent smirked slightly. "Precisely."
Rendon exhaled through his nose, his sharp gaze locking onto Vincent's. "If this fails, we'll be dealing with more than just assassins in the dark. We'll be inviting a real war."
Vincent met his gaze with unwavering determination. "That's why it needs to be executed perfectly. Leo must agree, and we must control every step of this game."
A long pause stretched between them before Rendon finally let out a low chuckle. "I always knew you were a gambling man, my lord. Fine, I'll get to work. But if this backfires, you owe me a drink."
Vincent smirked. "If this backfires, we'll both be too busy fighting for our lives to have drinks."
Rendon grinned. "Then I better start training more soldiers."
With that, their conversation ended, but the weight of what had just been discussed lingered in the air. The pieces were being moved, and soon, the game would begin in earnest.
Vincent watched as Rendon returned to the field, barking orders at the recruits once more. The training ground was filled with the sounds of steel meeting steel, but in Vincent's mind, he could already hear the echoes of the battles yet to come.