18 – Eagle Eye More than ten days was enough time for many things to slowly sink into daily life.
Cedar Village had completely changed.
Early morning.
The thin mist had not yet lifted from the coastal reefs.
Three dark-gray adult giant wolves were already jogging along the muddy path outside the village.
Their sharp claws sank into the soft mud without making a sound.
A few early-rising fishermen carrying nets walked past.
They stopped and stood close against the wooden fence.
No screams.
No running.
The lead giant wolf paused, swept its ghostly green pupils across the fishermen, gave a short low grunt in its throat, then turned its head and led the other two into the nearby undergrowth.
The villagers let out long breaths and continued on their way.
Habit was a terrifying force.
At first no one dared approach these man-eating beasts.
But after more than ten days, the villagers discovered that these wolves truly did not harm people.
As long as you did not actively provoke them, they would not even bother giving you a second glance.
Not only did they not harm anyone—every morning a number of muntjacs or wild rabbits with broken necks would appear outside the Beast Camp totem.
They were the leftovers the wolf pack brought back from the previous night’s hunt.
Village headman Edric strictly followed the rules Rek’Sai had set and distributed this meat to the strong laborers responsible for repairing the docks and carving the chevaux-de-frise.
For the first time in their lives, the villagers even got to drink fresh meat soup in late autumn.
Fear had turned into reverence.
Reverence was now turning into dependence.
In the Beast Camp behind the mountain, sixteen-year-old Ayla was crouching beside the ox-skull totem.
In her hands she held a brush made of stiff grass roots and was vigorously scrubbing the mud crust from the Boar King Pig’s back.
Pig lay on the ground, snoring contentedly.
Those lower tusks that could easily pierce iron armor now rested casually beside Ayla’s feet.
On the grass around them more than a dozen giant wolves sprawled in every direction.
Their wounds had long since healed under the green fluorescence radiating from the totem.
Right now they were enjoying rare peace.
A dull vibration suddenly came from the village entrance.
Startled birds at the edge of the forest flapped their wings and shot into the sky.
Rek’Sai was back again.
He strode out of the dense forest.
His massive frame blocked the rising sunlight.
In each hand he dragged a thick vine.
At the ends of the vines were two fat adult wild boars.
Their legs had been broken; they left two deep muddy furrows as they were dragged along the ground.
Behind him followed three lively antlered deer.
The leader was a five-tined stag whose hooves made no sound on the gravel.
And on Rek’Sai’s right shoulder perched an astonishingly large raven.
Its entire body was pure black.
Its feathers reflected a deep blue-black metallic sheen in the morning light.
Its body length was nearly one meter.
Its curved, pointed beak was two fingers longer than that of an ordinary raven.
Its sharp claws locked tightly onto Rek’Sai’s leather armor.
A pair of black-bean eyes coldly watched the village.
Rek’Sai walked to the center of the square.
He released his hands.
Thud.
The two wild boars smashed heavily onto the mud.
Pat came out of a house carrying the account book.
When he saw the scene he quickly jogged over.
“Drive the deer and the boars into the camp for rearing.” Rek’Sai pointed at the ground.
“Keep the boars for breeding.
That stag is Ironhoof.
The doe is Frosthorn.
Let them first adapt to the camp’s aura.
Later they can be used for grinding and farming.” “Yes, my lord.” Pat wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Rek’Sai raised his right hand.
The raven on his shoulder hopped down along his thick arm onto the back of his hand.
“Its name is Blackfeather.” Rek’Sai rubbed the raven’s hard beak with the rough pad of his finger.
Blackfeather did not flinch.
Instead it stuck out its tongue and licked Rek’Sai’s finger, letting out a coarse, rasping cry.
“From now on its whole family will be responsible for carrying messages.” Rek’Sai flicked his arm.
Blackfeather spread its wings and took off.
Its 1.3-meter wingspan stirred up a strong gust of wind.
It circled twice above Cedar Village and then settled steadily on the highest ridge of the village headman’s house.
As it landed, six slightly smaller ravens flew out of the forest outside the village one after another and neatly settled on either side of Blackfeather.
Seven black birds looked down from above, surveying the entire village.
At the edge of Rek’Sai’s vision the system panel flickered.
[Quest “Form a Battle Beast Legion” completed.] [Combat formation: Wolf pack (configured)] [Logistics formation: Antlered deer, wild boars (configured)] [Communication formation: Ravens (configured)] [Reward issued: Skill “Eagle Eye”.] [Eagle Eye: Can share the vision of any bound battle pet within range.
Greatly enhances dynamic vision and night vision.
Mana consumption: extremely low.] Rek’Sai closed the panel and drew a deep breath.
He closed his eyes.
His will followed the invisible bond and locked precisely onto Blackfeather on the rooftop.
“Open.” When he opened his eyes again, his senses instantly detached from his physical body.
His viewpoint shot upward.
Wind roared past his ears.
He saw the entire layout of Cedar Village— the damaged docks, the newly built wooden fence, the fishermen busy on the square.
His gaze stretched left.
He saw Ayla in the Beast Camp behind the mountain, laughing as she dodged a small wolf’s playful pounces.
His gaze pressed downward to the right.
He saw Brienne on the open ground on the eastern side of the village, swinging her longsword.
Every chop was accompanied by heavy breathing.
Sweat dripped from her chin.
Dynamic tracking was extremely sharp.
Color contrast far exceeded human eyesight.
Rek’Sai cut the connection and returned to his own viewpoint.
In front of him was still Pat’s slightly immature face.
He twisted his neck with satisfaction.
Joints cracked clearly.
With Eagle Eye, this territory was finally truly under his control.
“Pat, give me the accounts.” Rek’Sai walked over to a wooden post at the edge of the square and sat down with casual dominance.
Pat quickly opened the sheepskin account book in his hands and pointed downward along the charcoal marks with his finger.
“My lord, after deducting the costs of repairing the wall, crafting the chevaux-de-frise, and buying iron nails and hemp rope from the pirates’ money, thirty gold dragons remain.” Pat spoke quickly and clearly.
“Adding the copper tax the villagers paid this month, we are barely maintaining a balance of income and expenditure.
But…” “Speak.” “If the wolf pack increases further, or if the deer and boars need feed, our meat and fodder will absolutely not be enough.” Pat lifted his head.
“Thirty gold dragons looks like a lot, but winter is almost here.
Grain prices will rise.
We have no extra money to buy grain from Rain House.” Rek’Sai looked at Pat.
This kid really knew how to manage accounts.
He had the makings of a steward.
“Get the docks working.” Rek’Sai pointed toward the sea.
“Have the two pirate ships been repaired?” “One has been repaired.
The other has a broken keel and can only be dismantled for timber.” “Then one ship for now.” Rek’Sai curled his fingers and tapped his knee.
“Also, select people from among the villagers who can communicate with my battle pets.
Farming, fishing, hunting—they can all help.” Pat froze.
“This… is that really possible?” Rek’Sai’s tone remained flat.
“Make full use of the strength of the deer and the pigs.
Have the deer carry timber from the mountains.
Have the pigs turn the soil.
As long as they are beasts I have tamed, they will not randomly harm people.
You must learn to squeeze every last bit of value from every living thing in this territory—whether human or beast.” Pat swallowed hard.
The hand holding the charcoal stick trembled slightly.
“Pat.” Rek’Sai stared into his eyes.
Those green vertical pupils carried a suffocating pressure in the morning light.
“My expectations of you are not those of a squire who only knows how to count copper stars.” Rek’Sai’s voice was low.
“This is an order from a lord to his steward.
Carry it out.” “Ste… steward?” Pat’s mind buzzed.
He was only an ordinary attendant, not even a knight’s squire.
Steward?
That was a title only found in the castles of great lords.
“Yes, my lord!” Pat straightened his back hard and answered in a loud voice.
Rek’Sai was about to speak when a piercing shriek suddenly came from high in the sky.
It was Blackfeather.
The cry was short and sharp, carrying a clear warning.
Rek’Sai’s eyes sharpened.
His will switched in an instant.
Eagle Eye activated.
Blackfeather had already climbed high into the air and was circling above the southern coastline of Cedar Village.
Rek’Sai’s vision followed Blackfeather’s gaze and rapidly zoomed in.
Ten li outside the village.
On the coastal dirt road leading to Cedar Village, dust was rising in clouds.
A fully armed cavalry unit was racing along the shoreline.
Twelve riders in total.
Uniform tall warhorses.
The knights wore excellent chainmail covered by deep-blue surcoats.
Sunlight struck the nose guards of their helmets, reflecting cold metallic light.
The knight at the very front held a banner.
The wind unfurled the cloth.
A golden sun on a rose field, and a white moon on a sky-blue field.
The quartered arms of House Tarth.
Rek’Sai cut the visual connection and shouted: “Brienne!” He stood up.
His voice was like a great bell, instantly carrying across the entire village.
On the open ground Brienne heard the call and immediately sheathed her sword.
Her height still made her stand out in the crowd as she strode quickly toward the square.
“Master!”