kxxrt

He begins as a peasant. A name no one bothers to learn. When war calls, he joins—not for glory, not for honor, but because refusal is a rope around the neck.

In the mud and fear, among the screams of men whose blood matters more than his, he survives.

Not by strength. But by perception. Structure. Obedience that becomes command. Calm that turns to instinct.

He rises. Slowly. Visibly. From footsoldier, to file leader, to sergeant. He drills when others drink. He watches when others fight. He speaks when silence stings—and men listen.

A captain. A banner. A village. A holdfast.

The kingdom fractures. Nobles splinter. War returns in waves.

He builds what others forget: order, discipline, belief.

He is knighted. Not as courtesy. As necessity.

He commands. Then governs. Then inspires. Soldiers seek him. Outlaws swear to him. Minor lords ask his judgment. Not because of blood—but because of outcome.

And when at last he is crowned, it is not inheritance. It is design.

His kingdom is not forged by divine right. But by salt, sweat, and seen deeds.

He was never meant to inherit. He was meant to unify.

By Right of Conquest

The quartermaster's tent smelled like mildew, lamp-oil, and salted pork.

Darin had never been called inside before. He assumed it was a mistake.

A scribe—thin, balding, ink-stained—didn't even look up.

The scribe frowned but kept scratching at his parchment with short, flicking motions. "You're the one who was moved into scout detail without banner clearance."

The scribe reached for another scroll, cross-checked a wax seal, and tapped the side of a clay tally box. "You've been mentioned by three sergeants. One incident report. Two commendation notations."

"Verbal. Irregular. Not from officers."

"So it's been decided you'll receive standard scout pay, but no rank change. You're to be listed as 'Temp-for-Role, Pending Circumstance.'"

He was handed a coin chit. Two weeks' forward pay.

No ceremony. No praise. No explanation.

Just a new column in a ledger that hadn't even bothered to learn his surname.

As he left the tent, Raive stood outside, arms folded.

"You get a new rank?" Raive asked.

"Good. Spend it before someone decides you didn't earn it."

Ledger Reopened