The pen drew several lines on the page with a gentle scratching sound, like a whispering breeze through an open meadow. For the commander, it was just another day. An enormous amount of paperwork and a nonstop amount of meetings. Even though most would consider his daily routine chaotic, to him, it was bliss. Compared to leading his men on an open field, this was nothing. And although Carl rarely showed it, he truly cared about those who followed him.

  It had taken a considerable amount of effort, but they found the bastard who was siphoning funds from the militia and punished him accordingly. Such a thing wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the young watchman’s stunt. Since then, the overall equipment of the militia had been improved ,and the complaints he received from them had decreased. Everything was going smoothly. Yet the atmosphere in the office was anything but calm. Tucker was standing in front of Carl’s desk with both of his hands behind him.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Captain Welford?” Carl asked, putting his pen down.

  “Yes Commander, I’m in need of more money.” Tucker held out one hand while forming a circle with his thumb and index finger. He grinned, causing Carl to frown. “I know you’ve recently obtained a large amount of money and distributed it to the other militia units, yet we haven’t received anything.”

  Who the hell snitched?

  Carl hid his thoughts and focused on the watchman. He cupped his hands before him and rested his elbows on the wooden desk. “How much do you need?”

  Tucker smiled and held up one open hand.

  “Five gold?” Carl raised his teacup and brought it to his lips.

  “Five hundred gold,” Tucker corrected.

  Carl’s eye twitched for an instant. He nearly spat out his drink, but somehow stopped himself and gently put the cup down. It would have been a waste to spill such a delicacy because of Tucker. Instead, he simply glared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Not even knights get that much funding up front.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not knights. We’re watchmen.”

  “Captain Welford, you must be out of your goddamn mind.” Carl rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and index finger. “You may be a watchman along with your comrades, but the militia aren’t. Do you have any idea how much of a backlash I’ll get for giving that much money to you guys?”

  “A fair bit, but you can see it as an investment in the fortress’s thirty-first platoon.” Tucker grinned and pointed out the window with his thumb. “If you take a look by enhancing your vision with aura, you’ll see how well they’ve improved.”

  The commander raised a brow. There was a shred of curiosity in his mind, but only a couple of weeks had passed since Tucker had started training them. By now, the results wouldn’t have been anything extraordinary, yet he humored the young captain. Carl rose from his seat and approached one of the windows closest to him. A violet energy emerged from his body and slowly gathered in his right eye. The tingling sensation subsided after a few seconds, leaving the watchman in awe at how fast the commander had adapted. Even though he knew Carl was highly skilled, it would normally take a few minutes for someone to enhance their vision since the principles behind it were completely different than strengthening one’s body.

  The commander gazed in the direction of the militia, and soon, his eyes widened in surprise. In the courtyard surrounded by stone bricks and wooden logs stood a little over three hundred men separated into four different groups. One was practicing standard drills and lifting weights, while another group was focusing on maintaining a robust formation. The way they moved through the terrain and rallied around their leader was quick and efficient. Minimizing the amount of movement needed to cross large distances while also covering their flank. The other two groups were engaging in hand-to-hand combat, striking at vital points and through vulnerable gaps in their iron armor.

  At a glance, it wasn’t anything impressive. But compared to before, when they were an undisciplined bunch of soldiers who didn’t have the slightest idea of camaraderie. It was a remarkable change. The barren courtyard was now filled with life. Something that the other instructors who were previously assigned failed to accomplish months ago.

  “There’s also a healer group among our ranks.” Tucker stood beside Carl and observed the militiamen. From where they stood, the soldiers looked like nothing more than small critters. Yet a faint light could be seen emitting from the area where the thirty-first lived. Their aura was all acting in unison, like a beacon ever so faint that one would easily miss it. “That’s what I can do with a salary of a few watchmen, imagine what I could do with five hundred gold coins.”

  Carl silently stood still, crossing his arms before his chest. “I’ll give you three hundred gold coins.”

  “Three fifty,” Tucker countered.

  “Ha…” The commander slowly exhaled without moving his gaze. “Why are you haggling with me? Did you forget I’m your commander? Not some store owner?”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t try, right?” The corner of Tucker’s lips slightly curled upwards. “A few more coins would let us purchase extra potions.”

  The commander was lost for a moment. How many captains had approached him for funding? To this day, he could only think of one, and that was Tucker. None of them had bothered requesting for more supplies or potions, especially those who were new. Yet, Carl didn’t hate the experience. Surprisingly, it felt like a breath of fresh air, and before Carl knew it, he had cracked a smile. “Very well, three hundred and fifty gold coins it is.”

  “Just like that? If I knew it was that easy, then I would have asked for a bit more.” Tucker revealed a wide smirk that caught the commander’s attention.

  “You know, I can rescind my offer.”

  Tucker held his fist before his mouth and dryly coughed. “Moving on… how are they? Did they meet your expectations?”

  “They did, that’s part of the reason why I decided to award you with such an amount.”

  “Part of the reason? Then what’s the other?”

  “It’s your salary for officially taking the militia under your wing.” Carl gazed at Tucker with a grin. “I believe you started calling them the thirty-first? You know, since it was an unofficial declaration, I decided to make it an official one.”

  “What?” Tucker slowly turned towards Carl. “Then… that means you found someone to be their captain?”

  “Oh, I did. In fact, I’m looking at him right now.”

  Tucker’s frown deepened. “We’ve had this discussion before, and I already stated my stance on it. The deal was that I would train them and you would find someone else to lead them.”

  “I’m well aware, but after seeing the results. I don’t believe I would find someone who cares more about their men than you.” Carl faced Tucker, the young watchman who had proven himself not through words but by his actions. “I apologize for saying that they weren’t your men, but know this… if I tried to find someone else to lead them. Odds are their chances of survival will be far lower than they are now.”

  “I accept your apology sir… but surely you’re kidding, right? I don’t have any experience at all when it comes to leading, and I doubt I would even come close to the other captains.”

  “That’s true, but you have what the others lack, and that is an overwhelming amount of trust and respect from those you trained.” Carl walked towards his desk and placed his hand on the table. “Respect isn’t a right, it’s earned. If I assigned another captain now, they’ll never fill in the hole you’d leave behind.”

  Tucker silently listened, his gaze moving along with Carl.

  “I’ll be frank, I didn’t have much hope for the militiamen or your extreme training methods. I thought you were a sadistic bastard who just enjoyed tormenting his men after I heard the complaints.” Carl stared at a stack of letters written by the militiamen. “But now that I’ve seen what you’ve done. I’ve come to believe that in order for one to flourish, it depends on the environment they’re placed in.”

  “But… if I make one mistake, countless lives will be lost.” Tucker clenched his hands until the knuckles turned white. His gaze fell to the ground as an invisible weight pressed on his shoulders. "I can’t bring myself to give an order knowing that my men will die.”

  “Loss is always hard to handle, but Captain Welford, the orders will come from somewhere, and whether you’re there to guide your men or not, won’t prevent casualties.” Carl lifted a handful of letters that the militiamen wrote. Each one was handled with care, and the corners of the pages were slightly curled. For common folk to put such care into writing such a refined letter was something he didn’t expect, but beneath each page was the soldier’s sincerity. “Did you know I had a survey carried out in secret regarding what your men thought of you?”

  Tucker faintly chuckled. “Well, it wouldn’t be a secret if I knew, am I right?”

  “I don’t suppose it would be, but you’re a watchman, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” The commander laughed, the corner of his lips breaking out in a faint smile. “But that’s besides the point. What I really wanted to say was that your men respect you. The letters on my desk prove it. I had only asked for a simple yes or no; instead, I received letters of praise and admiration.”

  “I find that hard to believe. I kept a serious demeanor around those guys.”

  “I know. That’s why you should take these letters and read them yourself.” Carl placed the handful of letters back onto the stack and then carefully moved them all into a small leather bag. The dry papery scent filled the room, and the ink pressed deep into the fiber glowed underneath the sunlight. “Though I do have to warn you. It seems like the one called Nemo doesn’t like you that much.”

  The watchman smirked. “He’s a handful, so I can see it.”

  Carl held the bag of letters towards Tucker. “Put some consideration into it Captain Welford, if you are still hesitant then I will look for someone else but if you ask me. I believe this is your calling. They need you.”

  Tucker forced a smile that failed to reach his eyes. No matter how much he tried, the corners of his mouth hardly moved up. He couldn’t take the commander’s word to heart, but if his men had to follow orders anyway, then shouldn’t he take the mantle? What if the person who led them held no regard for their lives?

  Yet as Tucker was lost in his thoughts, a line from the very top letter caught his eye.

  I trust him with my life.

  That single sentence caused Tucker’s gaze to soften. The commander was right, even if he didn’t lead them, that didn’t mean they were safe. They would still have to follow someone else to complete their objectives, and there was no way for him to change that. With a deep exhale, Tucker’s hands wrapped around the straps of the leather bag. “You’re one pushy commander, you know that right?”

  “Haha, I get that occasionally. But like you, I just want what’s best for my men.” Once Tucker had taken the bag, Carl could see the young man hid his expression, but the warmth in his eyes was there. He kept his hand out with a calm gaze. The gesture was simple, but the meaning was clear. The watchman knew this. There wasn’t a point in hesitating, not anymore, and as their hands met with a firm grip, the commander nodded. “I look forward to working with you, Captain Welford.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” Tucker replied with a smile.

  With the final days drawing near, both of them knew that moments like this won’t last forever. The sun hung high in the sky, and it felt like everything had become clearer. As if the dark clouds that plagued him had vanished. The fear of losing the people close to him was still there, but faced with the reality of the situation, all he could do was look ahead. There was no telling what fate had in mind for those on the frontlines when the fortress falls under siege, but Tucker knew he had done the best he could with what he had. And hopefully, it was enough to ease the weight on his shoulders.