It didn’t take long. Three days after the confrontation in the county town, Ashfall Hold’s gates swung open to receive what Rolin had promised.
Beasts came through first; Mudhorns for heavy fieldwork, smaller pack animals trailing behind them, all led by handlers moving with the calm, practiced ease of people used to the work. Among them came a handful of Ridgestriders; towering two-legged beasts with plated hides and clawed feet built for speed as much as raw power, clearly intended as mounts for whatever force Rivelius meant to build. Carriages followed, loaded with supplies, and then the men.
A hundred of them climbed down from the wagons in loose, uncertain lines, clearly unsure what they’d actually been conscripted for.
Rivelius watched it all from the courtyard, Rolin standing stiffly to one side, Reyna at the other.
Above them, at a second-floor window, Cordelia watched the procession unfold, quiet and thoughtful, taking in the scale of it from a distance.
[Marital Instinct — Lv. 4. EXP: 3,490/3,500 to Lv. 5.]
I haven’t spoken with her much these past few days, Rivelius thought. Perhaps after this.
Rolin stretched his hands out to offer a small stack of sealed documents, cutting the thought short. "The Guild Registration Permit, my lord. The Trade Passage Writ. And the General Movement Pass, for anything and everything you’ll need moved through the county unquestioned."
Rivelius glanced at them without taking them. "Is that your House sigil marking them?"
"It is, my lord. With it, you’ll have no issues conducting trade anywhere within Aldervale."
Rivelius gestured with his head, toward Reyna. Rolin passed the documents to her instead, and she took them, holding them without comment.
"You’ve done well," Rivelius said, still watching the procession fill the courtyard. "Keep it up."
"Thank you, my lord." Rolin bowed, stiffly, favoring the bandaged side of his head. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave."
Rivelius nodded, and Rolin turned to leave, climbing back into his own carriage without another word.
Rivelius made his way toward the gathered men, uncertain and loose in their formation, Reyna falling into step beside him without needing to be asked.
He stopped a few feet in front of the assembled men and let his gaze move across all hundred of them before speaking.
"You’ve been brought here to be trained into an army. Mine."
A ripple of unease moved through the group. Glances exchanged. A few visibly shifted their weight, none of them entirely sure whether they’d just been conscripted or recruited.
Reyna’s eyes flicked toward him at the word army, though she said nothing.
"I understand the skepticism," Rivelius continued. "So I’ll make it simple. Ten gold, monthly. Housing and food provided, on top of that wage, for as long as you serve here."
"That’s..." one man muttered, doing the math half under his breath, "a thousand silver a month—"
Rivelius ignored him entirely.
"You have one minute," he said. "Accept, or leave. Either is acceptable to me."
Silence.
"With that kind of money," one man finally said, mostly to himself, "I could actually get my family out of debt."
"A hundred thousand copper is no little money," a second added.
A third stepped forward, arms crossed, bearing the look of a man who’d never taken orders easily in his life. "What’s the catch?"
Rivelius looked at him for a beat.
"None."
"Bollocks," the man said flatly.
Reyna’s hand drifted toward the hilt at her hip. Rivelius glanced at her once, and she stilled.
"What’s your name?" he asked the man.
"Why do you care?"
"Do you dare disrespect—" Reyna started.
Rivelius shook his head slightly, and she fell silent.
"I see you’re not one to follow orders," he said instead.
The man snickered.
"Then let’s do this differently." Rivelius gestured toward Reyna. "Defeat her in a fight, and I’ll give you the ten gold anyway. You can walk home a free, wealthy man."
"You mean it?"
"I do."
The man grinned, already sizing up Reyna; young, undeniably striking, nothing about her posture or bearing suggesting the kind of danger the guards back at the estate had learned the hard way to respect. Easy money, as far as he was concerned.
"Deal," he said.
The man stepped forward into the open space, and one of the guards tossed a sword his way. He caught it clean, testing its weight with a practiced flick of his wrist.
"Careful you don’t break a nail, sweetheart," he said to Reyna, grinning.
"Test him first," Rivelius said, "See if he’s worth anything at all."
Reyna nodded, and stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and the man, making no move to draw her own blade.
The man dropped into a stance, sword angled low, and let a slow smirk spread across his face.
Then he moved. Fast. Faster than anyone watching had expected, closing the distance in a blur of motion, sword already swinging.
Reyna’s blade cleared its sheath just in time, catching his strike dead center.
Steel held against steel, both of them locked in place for a long, straining second before she shifted her weight and pushed him back several feet, putting distance between them again.
The man grinned, breathing hard. "Not bad. For a pretty lady."
He came at her again, and again after that, in a real, trained sequence of strikes, clean footwork, and proper form. Whoever had taught him to fight had known what they were doing. Reyna blocked every single one, never once countering, simply absorbing the rhythm of it and giving nothing back.
He broke off, breathing heavy, sweat beading at his temple, and put distance between them once more.
Reyna glanced toward Rivelius.
He nodded.
She moved.
The disarm happened too fast to properly see; his sword clattering to the dirt a full second before his mind caught up to the fact that it was gone. Her blade was already at his throat, close enough that a thin line of blood welled up along his skin where the edge had barely, deliberately grazed him.
The man froze completely, breath catching, real fear flooding into his eyes for the first time since he’d stepped forward so confidently.
Rivelius watched the man’s frozen expression for a moment.
"What’s your name?"
This time, the man answered immediately. "Darrow, my lord."
"Darrow." Rivelius let the name settle. "You’re skilled. Wasted clearly on doubting orders you haven’t even been given yet." A pause. "But the offer still stands. Ten gold, housing, and food."
Reyna withdrew her blade, sheathing it in one smooth motion.
"Do you accept?" Rivelius added.
Darrow swallowed, glancing between the two of them, all his earlier bravado gone entirely.
"...Yes, my lord."
Reyna walked back to take her place beside Rivelius, and he turned to the rest of the men.
"I believe you’ve all had time enough to decide. Anyone who wishes to leave may do so now."
A pause. The men shifted among themselves, glancing sideways, none of them stepping forward.
"No one?" Rivelius said. "Very well, then. From today onward, all of you are under my protection."
A murmur passed through the men, uncertain but not unwelcoming; the first sign since they’d stepped off the carriages that this arrangement might actually be worth something.
"General Reyna Volgard," Rivelius continued, glancing at her, "as your commanding officer, will be in charge of your training. I don’t imagine I need to explain what that means."
Reyna looked at him, something caught between shock and disbelief crossing her face.
"You’ll be shown to your quarters shortly," Rivelius said. "That will be all."
One of the men raised a hand. "If I may, my lord. You haven’t told us your name yet."
"Kane," he said. "Rivelius Kane."
The men nodded, and the guards began leading them off toward the estate, the crowd thinning as they filed inside.
"My lord," Reyna said quietly, once most of the men were out of earshot. "You made a mistake. While pronouncing my rank."
"I made no mistake."
Reyna blinked. "...Oh."
A pause.
"What’s your current salary?" he asked.
"Two hundred gold monthly, my lord."
"Increase it to five thousand."
Reyna stared at him, "M-my lord, that’s—"
"You’re a General now," he said, still watching the men being led away, not looking at her at all. "You should be paid like one."
Reyna said nothing further. She simply stared at him with something that wasn’t quite admiration, not exactly anything she had a word for. But it carried the quiet certainty of a woman who had, without meaning to, just sworn herself to this man for the rest of her life.