The Borderlands of Greythorne

It's been a month since he completed his father's task and Ren had to admit that he was getting better.

After completing the knight's regimen, he had collapsed from exhaustion, his body unable to handle the strain. 

He had spent several days confined to his room, recovering. Though the pain had been unbearable at times, there had been no lasting damage. And now, he was stronger for it.

Since then, he had begun training everyday, taking part in a lighter version of the knight's regimen, supervised by Sir Robert.

His muscles still ached whenever he completed his training but this time, they were the pleasant aches of a good workout and not his body screaming for help.

He had managed to earn a bit of respect in the eyes of his brothers and he could tell his father was pleased.

He wasn't doing it for them though. He was doing it for himself.

He needed to be stronger. He needed to be prepared for claiming the divine gift. He'd need all the help he could get to survive it.

He'd tried training with the sword but Sir Rodrick had forbidden him, stating that he needed to learn other things first. So, he'd trained to become stronger and fitter. 

Sir Rodrick had also trained him on how to fall and how to take a hit, citing that it was the best thing a fighter could learn.

That was how he'd passed the time and before he knew it, it was time for his father to go to the northern border.

He'd been sent off by his mother, who had tried to dissuade him from going but had been convinced by a mix of his reassurances and his father's stern words.

And that was how he found himself astride a horse, following his father and a group of fresh recruits. 

The recruits were bodies to replace those who had died on the border. The barbarians never really stopped and in the Ross lands, being a soldier and fighting at the wall was one of the more lucrative professions available.

After a few days, they were almost at their destination. The border camp stood at the edge of the Greythorne forest which extended out of the Albion kingdoms and into the barbarian lands.

In the month he'd spent as Terence, he'd heard rumors and now, he would be confirming them by himself. At the time the game was set in, the Ross lands were already overrun by those infected by the Red Plague, so there had been no border.

From what he'd heard, the border was a dangerous place where the knights and soldiers lived under the ever-present threat of attack. He'd have to be careful if he wanted to survive.

As they neared the border, the camp came into view. 

A massive wooden wall stretched along the length of the stronghold, reinforced with sharpened stakes at its base. Watchtowers jutted out at intervals, manned by vigilant sentries scanning the horizon. 

The wall had been built to withstand the barbarian raids and it showed it. One could see that it had suffered its share of damage over the years. 

It was a patchwork of new and old wood but despite its weathered state, it still stood firm, just like the Ross forces. 

The king partied in the capital and didn't care one whit for them but they knew that if no one manned the borders, their families back in the Ross lands would be the one to suffer for it.

Just thinking about it made Ren angry. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought of just deposing the king and claiming the kingdom for himself. He was sure he'd be a better king than the idiot currently sitting on the throne.

He quickly discarded the thought. Being king would just be too much of a hassle. He was sure he could just coast with the power of Unfettered Enhancement but he didn't have the divine gift yet.

Besides, it wasn't like the king would be alive for much longer. He'd soon be assassinated, leaving his sons to fight for the throne. That war would be what would've doomed the Ross family.

With having to support the crown prince and fight the barbarians at the same time, they'd been steamrolled by the Elnorian forces. 

Well, that was a problem for the future Ren to solve. Present Ren still had problems of his own.

He turned his attention back to the present. Inside the camp, activity bustled. 

Soldiers moved with purpose, some sparring in an open training ground, while others patrolled the perimeter. 

The sound of hammering metal echoed through the air, the scent of burning wood from the forge mingling with the stench of sweat and leather. 

They passed the main gates and the fresh recruits were quickly led away to where they'd receive their equipment and be briefed on their duties.

As Ren and their family soldiers, led by Lord Ross, moved deeper into the camp, they were met by the Ross knight commander. 

The man stood tall, clad in a worn but well-maintained set of armor. His expression was stern, but there was a quiet respect in his eyes as he looked at Lord Ross.

"My lord!" The knight commander said, snapping a salute. "It's good to see you again."

Lord Ross nodded in acknowledgment as he got off his horse. "Commander Arlen. How is the situation?"

Ren was helped off his horse and followed his father and knight commander Arlen as they walked to the command tent.

"Stable for now, but not for long." Arlen said grimly in reply to Lord Ross' question. "It has been some time since the last raid and our scouts have found traces of movement nearby. We suspect a barbarian camp is not far off. They'll strike soon."

Lord Ross exhaled through his nose as they entered the tent. "Then we prepare. Increase patrols and double the watch at night. We cannot afford to be caught unaware."

"Understood, my lord."

Ren listened, his eyes taking in everything. This was as real as it gets. 

The barbarian raids had just been an interesting bit of lore. A background event in the game. Something that happened regardless of the player's involvement. But now, he was here, experiencing it firsthand.

He didn't know how to feel about that. He just stood quietly and listened. 

Once the report was concluded, Lord Ross turned to Ren. "Commander Arlen, this is my youngest, Terence."

The knight commander raised an eyebrow, looking Ren over. "Terence, is it? A bit young to be out here."

"He insisted on coming." Lord Ross said stoically. "See that he is placed with the squires. He'll learn under them."

Ren took the news in stride and bowed slightly. "It's an honor, Commander." His father didn't believe in preferential treatment when it came to war.

Arlen grunted, his gaze lingering on Ren for a moment longer before he nodded. "Very well. Guard!" He called out and a soldier slipped into the tent. "Take him to the squires' tent."

The soldier saluted before grabbing Ren by the arm without ceremony and leading him away. 

Ren cast one last glance over his shoulder at his father and the commander before being dragged out of the tent and deeper into the camp.

The smell of sweat and dust thickened as they approached a row of smaller tents. The soldier stopped in front of one, yanked the flap aside, and all but shoved Ren inside.

And just like that, he was left alone among the squires.