Chapter 15: We Have to find them

The morning after the battle was an unrecognizable dawn. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over the ruined village, its warmth almost mocking against the charred remains of what had once been homes. The fire had burned itself out overnight, leaving nothing but smoldering piles of ash, the remnants of walls half-standing, sagging like the broken bones of some long-dead giant. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, the remnants of a once-peaceful life now reduced to nothing but scorched earth and memories.

Adrian stood at the edge of the village, his eyes scanning the destruction. His breath, once shallow and panicked in the heat of the battle, had now steadied, though it still felt like a weight in his chest. He had seen death in war before, but this… this was different. There were no grand speeches of honor or courage here, no valor to speak of—just senseless slaughter. The villagers, their faces pale and hollow from terror, now gathered in small, broken groups, eyes trained on Adrian and his soldiers. They seemed to expect something from him, something he wasn't sure he could give.

Klaus approached, his hands on his hips, his gaze sweeping over the scene. "Looks like we missed the worst of it," he muttered, his voice rough from the night's exertion. His axe was slung over his back, a constant reminder of the brutality of what they had just done. "But there's no denying what's been left behind. These people are… shattered."

Adrian nodded, his gaze never wavering from the survivors who huddled beneath the makeshift shelter of ruined homes. "We'll see to the wounded. They need more than bandages and medicine. They need shelter, food, and… time." He rubbed his temples, his mind whirring with the logistics of what lay ahead. "We'll start by helping them rebuild, but we can't stay here. We've drawn enough attention. The raiders weren't alone. Someone sent them."

Otto, who had been inspecting the outskirts of the village for any signs of lingering danger, came back into view, his brow furrowed. "The scouts report no immediate threat from outside the village," he said, his voice low but urgent. "But there are signs of something—some kind of organization behind this. These weren't just aimless raiders. They were here for a reason."

Adrian turned to face him, his expression hardening. "A message," he said grimly. "It's always a message." His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, a reflex born of both habit and the tightening knot in his stomach. "We've got to find out who's behind this."

Klaus's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a dark smile. "You thinking of hunting down the ones who sent them?"

Adrian's gaze flicked to the soldiers, who had started to move through the village, helping the townsfolk sift through the wreckage. His mind was already spinning with the potential consequences of any action they took. The desire for revenge, for justice, burned in his chest, but it was tempered by the understanding that they were no longer just soldiers—they were leaders. His responsibility was to his men, to the people he'd promised to protect, and to the duchy that hung by a thread.

"If we leave them unchecked, this will happen again," Adrian replied, his voice steady, though beneath it, there was a quiet storm brewing. "And next time, it will be worse. If we want any semblance of peace, we'll need to confront this head-on."

Otto met his gaze with a nod. "We can scout the surrounding lands. Find the tracks, the suppliers, whoever's behind this."

Adrian thought for a moment before responding, his voice low but unwavering. "Gather the men. We'll set out by midday. But we'll need to move cautiously. We can't afford to leave a trail for whoever might be watching."

Klaus, ever the eager one, grinned. "Finally, some action worth getting our boots dirty for."

Adrian gave him a sharp look. "Not recklessness. Precision." He turned to the surviving villagers. "I'll have a unit remain here to protect you for now. They'll gather any remaining supplies and keep watch. But we'll need your cooperation. If you know anything, anything at all about who might have sent these raiders, now is the time to speak up."

The villagers, their faces still raw from the horrors they'd witnessed, looked between one another, fear and suspicion hanging in the air like an invisible fog. But after a long, tense silence, one woman stepped forward. She was older than most, her face lined with age and sorrow, her hands trembling as she spoke.

"They came in the night," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "A group of them. The men who attacked us, they wore dark colors, covered in furs. But there was one who spoke with authority. He didn't seem like the rest of them."

Adrian leaned forward, listening closely. "What did he say? Anything that could help us identify who he was?"

The woman swallowed, her eyes darting to the ground. "He spoke of a man named Theon. He said… he said we were the first, but not the last. That our village would be an example, a warning to others. To… to someone."

"Did he say where he was from?" Adrian pressed, his voice low and controlled.

The woman shook her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. "No. But he carried a strange symbol. A sigil. It was black, with a silver crown."

Adrian's mind clicked. A sigil. A crown. His thoughts immediately turned to the remnants of the duchy's long-lost glory, the old banners of the noble houses. There was only one place he knew of where a symbol like that might be linked to something dangerous—something powerful. The crown was the emblem of an old, defunct noble family, one that had once ruled neighboring lands and had been cast down in the wars decades ago.

"If they're connected to the House of Darnath, this will get much worse," Adrian murmured, more to himself than anyone else. The old family had long since been eradicated, their holdings divided, their name spoken only in whispers. But if they had returned in some form, it could mean that something much larger than simple raiders was at play.

He turned back to Otto and Klaus. "We need to move fast. The House of Darnath could be behind this. If they are, they've got resources and allies we can't begin to fathom. We may be walking into something that could change the balance of power in this region."

Klaus's expression grew more serious, and Otto, who had been listening intently, nodded in agreement.

"We'll move quickly, then," Otto said, his tone firm. "Gather what we need, and we'll set out by noon."

Adrian nodded, turning toward the soldiers. "Gather what you can. We leave within the hour. And make sure no one knows we're leaving. We can't afford to alert whoever might be watching."

As the soldiers scattered to prepare for the journey ahead, Adrian remained rooted to the spot, the weight of what lay before him settling heavily on his shoulders. The path ahead was uncertain, and the enemies he faced were cloaked in mystery. But one thing was clear: this battle, unlike any he had fought before, was not one of steel and blood alone. It was a game of shadows, of shifting alliances and hidden motives. And the cost of failure could be far more devastating than the loss of this village.

It could cost him everything.