chapter 5.1

Under a night sky scattered with dim stars, the cold air seeped through the wooden walls of the eastern outpost of The Wall. The small courtyard was eerily quiet, accompanied only by the occasional crackling of embers from a small fire at its center. The Outcasts sat in exhaustion, resting against worn-out supply crates or on the rocky ground, savoring the rare moment of peace after long days of facing the horrors from the South.

Alcard, leaning against a wooden post with his arms crossed over his chest, seemed lost in thought. His sharp eyes stared into the fire, a vacant look in them, as if recalling something from the past. The silence that surrounded them was finally broken when Vern, a seasoned Outcast known for his blunt nature, spoke up.

"Alcard," his voice was rough but carried curiosity. "You once said the Lords of Middle Earth have countless ways to divide us. Explain it more clearly. What exactly do they do? These new recruits should hear it."

Alcard exhaled slowly, lifting his head slightly from the ragged cloak wrapped around him. His voice was calm but carried an unmistakable weight. "They always find ways to break us from within. They don't need an army or monsters to do it. All it takes is corruption, manipulation, and exploiting ambition. The most common tactic? Buying our loyalty."

A young Outcast, only a few months into his service, frowned in confusion. "Loyalty? You mean some of us would betray the Outcasts for the Lords?"

Alcard's unreadable gaze met his. "More often than you think," he replied coldly. "Not everyone can accept life at The Wall. Some believe they don't belong here, that they deserve something better. And when a Lord offers them freedom, rank, or wealth, they listen."

The young recruit still seemed hesitant to grasp the full reality. "And then what happens?"

"They begin to rot us from the inside," Alcard said, his voice quieter but filled with warning. "They spread rumors, sow division, weaken morale, or even kill their own comrades to fulfill the Lords' agenda."

One of the newer recruits sitting across from him narrowed his eyes. "Then how do we know who's a traitor?"

"Oldman," Alcard answered without hesitation. "He always knows."

The group exchanged glances. One of them, a broad-shouldered Outcast with a scar across his cheek, chuckled. "Oldman's like a mind reader. No one escapes his watch."

Alcard nodded slightly. "Since he took charge, the number of traitors has dropped drastically. He never hesitates to deal with them. In some cases, the punishment is death."

A female Outcast, leaning against the wooden wall with disheveled hair, looked at Alcard with eager curiosity. "I heard Oldman once ordered the execution of a Lord. Is that true?"

All eyes turned to Alcard. He remained silent for a moment, as if deciding how much to reveal, before finally nodding. "It's true," he said, his voice lower. "It wasn't a decision made lightly, but at that time, we had no other choice."

A recruit raised an eyebrow. "Tell us the story."

Alcard glanced at the fire, its flickering flames reflecting in his sharp gaze before he spoke. "There was a Lord who overstepped. He saw the Outcasts as tools. He secretly recruited some of us, promising freedom, status, even land to live on. But in the end, it was all a lie. He turned us against each other, forced us into a conflict where we ended up killing our own."

The young recruit who had questioned him earlier now looked more serious. "And what did Oldman do?"

Alcard's eyes darkened slightly. "He devised a plan. Not just to stop the chaos, but to ensure that Lord never had the chance to do it again. We were sent on a silent mission—not as a warning… but for an execution."

A heavy silence fell over the group. Some of the new Outcasts gazed at Alcard with newfound respect, while others looked lost in thought. They had always known life at The Wall meant battling monsters and surviving against impossible odds—but they had never considered that the greatest danger often came from men, not beasts.

"It was a heavy decision," Alcard continued. "But Oldman knew that if he allowed it to happen once, the Lords would keep trying to tear us apart. He made it clear—anyone who tried to divide us would face a consequence they couldn't escape."

The young Outcast lowered his gaze, contemplating Alcard's words. "I thought being an Outcast was just about surviving against monsters. I never realized we also had to survive against men."

"That's the reality you have to accept," Alcard replied. **"But remember this—we have no land, no name, but we have each other. That's the only reason we're still standing."

Vern let out a short laugh, slapping Alcard's shoulder. "You always know how to make it sound like there's still some hope in all of this."

Alcard only gave a small, knowing smirk. The night grew later, the campfire dimming, and one by one, the Outcasts began retreating to their barracks.

Yet Alcard's words lingered in their minds.

At The Wall, brotherhood was the only shield they had.

And without it—

They were nothing.

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