Sealed in Steel
patreon
B2. 10 - Preparing for a Night of Shadows
🕑 Added 2025-05-12 12:59:45 +0000 UTCMaveron rolled out a map of Golden Grove and its surroundings. “The town is situated in the flattest area among these hills,” he said to Elian, standing beside him. He frowned at the squire who handed him the map. “Took a while getting this map, didn’t it? One would think we’d have this ready near the walls.”
“Apologies, sire,” said the squire.
“Get on with the explanation, cousin,” said Lord Gustall. “I want to hear the advice of our Penitent ally and our mercenary captain. Give me an assurance that we are right to stay.”
Joining them for this mini-council of war were two others—Haford, the captain of Azure Roc Company, and Verney, the noble in charge of defending the walls of the town.
The mercenary captain went by the name Haford, and nothing else. Quite an imposing man, displaying deep scars on his arms and face. Haford explained that he had forsaken his family name and forgotten the town he hailed from when he left to join the mercenaries as a young lad. Lord Gustall told Elian earlier that Haford had a formidable reputation as a mercenary.
“Storm God blesses us,” Lord Gustall had said. “A group of twenty mercenaries was in a nearby village, looking for work, when we needed them most. And how fortunate that I have the coin to hire their services. Haford and Verney have fought together before. Verney vouches for the mercenaries.”
Verney Gustall was a burly noble with a braided silvery beard. The half-brother of Maveron and cousin to the town lord, Verney, didn’t seem to have gotten his post due to nepotism. Maybe just a little. When they had a small chat while waiting for Haford, Elian could tell that Verney had experience in sieges during his younger years. Surely, Verney had exciting tales of those battles, but what Elian found most interesting about him was one of his sons.
When Verney toured Elian around the walls before their council of war, they met his eldest son. “I’m Elian Ward of Gilders,” Elian said, extending his hand to Reese Gustall.
In another time, Elian knew Reese as… Hinter Engall.
So, this guy did carry a fake name, Elian mused in his head. Reese took on the identity of a merchant’s son after Golden Grove was destroyed. Everyone in Yanira’s group knew that Hinter—the person they assumed to be the real Hinter Engall—had his secrets. But they wouldn’t have guessed this was it.
It wouldn’t have mattered to them anyway. They accepted Reese as who he said he was.
Reese shared the distinct angular facial feature of the Gustall family. He strained to draw his full height, but still came up shorter than Elian. Squarish chin held high, he looked down with disdain at Elian’s offered hand. Nobles could shake the hands of anyone they wanted to, even commoners, so long as they offered their hand first. Not that most nobles would want to shake hands.
Elian didn’t introduce himself as a noble, and his family name wasn’t known—they had to assume he was a commoner. It was out of protocol for Elian to be the one to offer his hand.
However, Elian presented himself as a strong warrior with the spectacle of his Tribulation. Societal norms bend to the strong. Add that Golden Grove needed his help; the nobles had to cater to him. Elian didn’t really want to impose himself on the nobility or anything like that. He just found it funny that the quiet and reserved fake Hinter Engall used to be a snotty noble.
Ignoring Elian’s hand, Reese nodded at his father. “I’ll take my leave. There are matters requiring my attention on the western wall.”
“My son has not seen battle and death,” Verney muttered to Elian after Reese left. “He is skilled in the ways of the sword and spells stored in shards, masterful even. I’d daresay his name will be known someday. But he hasn’t bonded with fellow warriors through battle. Only now has he returned from his training abroad after receiving news of the attacks on our town. I pray you not mind his actions, Penitent.”
“It’s fine. I understand,” Elian replied. “Maybe your son will be transformed into a comrade-in-arms while defending his town.”
“I hope what you say is true.”
I’ll never know what happened to Reese in the past, Elian thought.
The important thing was that Elian would prevent it from happening, knowing full well that he might not end up being friends with the Reese of this timeline. The original Reese certainly experienced a traumatic moment, or moments, that drove him to abandon his identity and take up another. Maybe Haford and the mercenaries were present during the original defense of Golden Grove, and Reese could’ve gotten the ‘new identity’ idea from Haford. The past was past; it was time to focus on the present.
“The town is in a disadvantageous position in terms of defense,” Maveron continued, pointing at the heights around it. “The hills weren’t wide enough to host a settlement, unlike those of the Temples of Tribulations. Our fathers had to make do with this area. It couldn’t have been anywhere else for the magical trees that became the namesake of our town, Golden Grove, grew from here southward.
“Hills all around block our view of the incoming enemy; our projectiles and spells cannot make use of their full range. Shadow beasts descend from the higher ground on all sides, like a flood of darkness cascading in deadly waves. Fortunately, the trees have been cleared; the stumps provide no cover for the attacking monsters.”
“Fortunately?” Verney snorted. “It is our tree-cutting business that brought this peril upon us.”
“What’s done is done,” said Lord Gustall, with a stab of coldness in his voice. Elian surmised that the elderly leaders of Golden Grove had plenty of finger-pointing arguments.
“Though we can kill many of the lesser shadow beasts before they reach our walls,” Maveron continued, “we cannot impair the larger ones, for they hide behind the crests of hills until their final charge. The distance is lacking, providing us with scant time to bring them down. More than likely, the greater shadow beasts will reach our walls with no significant injuries.”
“What are the present defenses of the town?” Elian asked, pulling the discussion back on track.
“The walls are enchanted for sturdiness,” Verney said. “However, the enchantments have been much weakened over the weeks, culminating in the destruction of a span during the heaviest of attacks. We have managed to hire a mage to repair the enchantments, but it cannot be restored to full power soon. I fear that in the next attack, we’ll see another breach. I tell you, these shadow beasts can tower over the walls and have the strength of ten battering rams. Our men cannot remove them so easily.”
“Yes, it’s the primary concern,” said Maveron. “We have to leave the safety of the walls to vanquish a behemoth of a shadow beast trying to tear it down.”
“This is where we come in,” Haford said. “Best monster wranglers this side of Raelyon. We’ll drop from the walls, kill the beast pounding it, and return before we get swarmed. We move swiftly as one unit, concentrating our firepower. This is most efficient. But we’ll have a big problem if multiple wall-busting bastards target different sections of the wall. Divide our forces into many, and we’ll take too long killing each monster. I say I’ll halve my forces, ten men each team. Any less and they’ll be too slow with their tasks.”
“We heed your words, respected mercenary,” said Maveron. “I’ll divide my men, masters of shards swords, all of them, into three teams of ten each. Together with your men, we’ll have five teams, each assigned to one-fifth of the wall. We are to dispatch the strongest of the shadow beasts before they can destroy the walls.”
“Right you are,” said Haford. “Once those shadowy pests stream inside the town, deaths will be unavoidable.”
“The walls cannot fail again,” said Verney. “The rest of our soldiers posted on the walls will delay the shadow beasts until one of the hunting teams can deal with them.”
“Hunting teams,” Maveron stroked his chin, smiling as he nodded. “It has a nice ring to it. We’ll be hunting them to oblivion.”
“We’ll work out our signals,” Haford said. “Be it smoke or drums or lights. We cannot use flags if the happens at night. It most likely will. I’ll coordinate with you on our signals so we can converge on a particularly difficult-to-kill monster if need be.”
“What of the destroyed section?” asked Lord Gustall. “I gauge the ongoing construction thereat as inadequate. The shadow beasts are not mindless; that much, we have learned. They employ a semblance of strategy, as you’ve told me, Maveron.”
“Yes, my lord,” said Maveron. “The beasts made of darkness, though their bodies lack an actual brain, will know to hit our weakest point. They will funnel into the gap, unmindful of the costs to breach it once more. That is where the fighting will be heaviest.”
“I’m assuming we’re of the same mind that it’ll be my spot?” Elian said, looking around the table. “I’ll be the wall that holds them back until the hunting teams can get them off me.”
“We trust in your constitution, esteemed Penitent,” Maveron said.
“Onto improvements,” Lord Gustall said, clapping his hands. “What say you, Penitent?”
“Do you have men assigned to earthworks?” Elian asked.
“Earthworks don’t work against the shadow beasts,” Maveron said. “I’ve told you before that they can dissolve into smoke and roll over the land like fog. Trenches and moats are useless in slowing them down. They materialize only when they choose to do so or are hit by flames. Instead of earthworks, we have dug pits filled with oil and dried grass to set ablaze during nighttime attacks.”
“And their strongest attacks come during nighttime,” Verney said. “Scouts spotted gatherings of shadow beasts at the edges of the forest several hills away.”
“I’m not thinking of trenches. We deploy labor to make seals all over the hills. We can do the same to strengthen the walls.”
Elian asked for paper and a stick of charcoal to draw with. He tore the paper into small pieces and illustrated the designs of simple seals on them. They were incomplete so that the workers making the seals wouldn’t accidentally injure themselves. He’d be the one to finish each of them. He plopped the papers on the hills.
“These will gather the Aether of the soil to feed the light of flames,” Elian said. “They don’t start a fire. Once we’ve noticed shadow beasts coming, I trust that some marksman can shoot a flaming arrow over here. This way, we can have a wider ring of fire. We’ll spread these seals throughout the hills. It’ll be a light show. We can’t do something like that with just oil and reeds.”
“What if the beasts trample them?” Haford asked. “Wouldn’t that destroy the seal?”
“Yes, it will. But it has already served its purpose. Five people with a string and sticks to measure the circles can make this in ten minutes, with proper guidance. The value is forcing the shadow beast to materialize much further than before. We can already kill them over here—” Elian pointed at the peak of a hill “—instead of here, by the destroyed houses.” The pits prepared to be set ablaze were marked on the map.
Elian also taught them how to make basic trap seals. There was one that turned the soil into mud. Very easy to draw, for how much it could slow down the shadow beasts. They made more complicated quagmire seals nearer to the walls.
“And behind the walls,” Elian said, “we can have something like this to strengthen it.” He drew a squareish design following the length of the walls. He learned much about seals during his first life, having seen how much they could help in defending.
Seals used to be kept secret by the sealcrafters, obscuring their true designs with plenty of fake figures and symbols. Normal people couldn’t just copy them. It was understandable. The sealcrafters needed to protect their livelihood. But when the war with the Giants started, sealcrafters worked together to simplify their designs so that even a farmer could make one just by copying a drawing. What Elian had in his head was essentially future tech.
“I marvel at your knowledge of seals, esteemed Penitent,” Maveron said.
“Truly a Penitent befitting the stone band of the Temples of Tribulation,” Verney said.
Haford picked up a piece of paper. “You won’t mind if we copy this for our own use? Pretty handy tricks you have up your sleeve.”
“No problem at all,” Elian said. He wanted these designs to spread. A giant slipping on a huge patch of mud could mean the life and death of dozens.
But Lord Gustall didn’t seem too happy. “A monumental task this is, Penitent, covering the hills with seals. I have my men, but they are untrained in making those.”
“I’ll teach them,” Elian said. “This is the simplest of designs. The first few that they’ll make would be wonky, but they’ll learn it quickly enough.”
“That may be, but the number of my workers is still inadequate.”
“You have more hands to employ, my lord.”
Lord Gustall raised a brow. “Oh? Pray, tell, whose hands do you refer to?”
“The streets of Golden Grove are filled with people. With a few coins for an afternoon’s work, we can accomplish much of the work before night comes. And money isn’t their only incentive. Aren’t their lives enough to prod them to work? I’m sure the people will follow the Lord of Golden Grove, rallying them.”
Lord Gustall grinned. “Well… I’ve always imagined myself as the rulers of old giving speeches.” He turned to Maveron. “How soon do we expect the next large wave of shadow beasts to fall upon us? The past few days that you’ve been gone, the attacks have been minimal. But we know they are gathering their troops.”
“As soon as tonight,” said Maveron. “On our way here, we saw shadow beasts also heading to Golden Grove. They didn’t attack us, one-minded they were to head to this location. Neither did we attack them, for it’ll delay our journey.”
“We best get started,” Elian said. “I’ll teach a group of your most trusted craftsmen how to make these seals in the fastest way possible. In turn, they’ll teach others. Let’s see what we can achieve in several hours.”
Comments
Undead Writer
Thanks for the chapter!
