“I think she may be pregnant,” said Selena out of the blue when Ansel was returning from a routine inspection of the town.

  “She is? Why do you think so?”

  “She missed her period.”

  Tilting his head, he asked, “What’s a period?”

  For someone who asked about “consummating” marriage, not knowing women’s menstruation was out of place. But everyone knew that he was weird like this at this point, especially Selena who observed his quirkiness over the past several months.

  “Women capable of bearing children bleed once a month,” she explained. “It is a sign that they are capable of getting pregnant.”

  “Bleed from where? I don’t think I’ve ever seen women bleed in public?”

  “Well, um… It’s down there…”

  “Down there?”

  Clearing her throat, she changed the subject. “The bottom line is that I think she is pregnant.”

  “Should I inform the baron? He will be overjoyed.”

  “It’s a bit too early to tell. Women can sometimes miss their periods. If she misses for two months straight, then she is pregnant for sure.”

  “Is there any way to confirm this? Making the baron wait one more month… How did she react by the way?”

  “I haven’t talked to her about it. But she is aware of the situation. She could tell him if she is sure.”

  “So…, we should just let her be.”

  She nodded in agreement. “If we tell the baron and are wrong, that won’t be good. I am sure that the baroness will inform him in due time.”

  “Well, it’s good that they are doing the deed at least. I guess it will be only a matter of time. By the way, how is the boy doing? Did you rename him?

  He was talking about the second son of the farmer, Mikely.

  “Yes, we renamed him Kent. He is doing well. His parents are right nearby, so he has no reason to be sad or anything. He is diligent as well.”

  “That is good to hear.”

  “The maids have been giving him basic chores, which actually help us a bit since we don’t need to do it. The three of us aren’t quite enough for a manor of this size.”

  “We can’t afford to hire more at this point. Please understand.”

  Ateria, at the moment, had zero income from tax. And whatever they earned from the mine was minuscule at the best since only several miners were working at the moment. The outcome of iron wasn’t big enough to attract merchants to come by. But the basic economy started to function at least. The hard part was over, he believed.

  “And… there is something else.” She made a troubled face as she spoke. “I’ve been receiving letters from Clara.”

  “Clara?”

  She was a maid who was fired for having an affair with Wallace, the butler.

  “What does she say? Does she want to come back? She wouldn’t dare.”

  “Well, she says she made a mistake and wants a redeeming arc…? Whatever that means?”

  He face-palmed. “First of all, she had an affair with a married man because she was ‘too bored’. And now wants what? A redeeming arc? What does that even mean? What’s there to even redeem?”

  She shrugged, just as clueless. A fired maid was never hired back. He wasn’t going to make an exception now especially when there were no special circumstances.

  “She keeps sending me letters, though. It’s starting to bug me.”

  “Great. We finally get the postal service back up and this is what we get.”

  It didn’t cost them anything for the postal service to function because it was the lord of the region to maintain the service, which was Count Tristan Rassier in this case. However, the requirement for the postal service to be active was high security which Ateria just barely passed, thus the postal service was active where a bag of mails was delivered once a week.

  “How should I respond? I’ve been ignoring them, hoping that she’d stop, but she hasn’t.”

  Sighing with exasperation, he replied, “I will talk to the baron when an opportunity comes up. Don’t do anything until then.”

  “I understand.”

  “Moving on, has the baroness adapted well?”

  Isabel was from a very different region. Where she lived was the northern end of the kingdom near the capital. The Moshil region was literally a countryside for her with somewhat different culture.

  “I get a feeling that she doesn’t like the southern cuisine, but she has yet to make any verbal complaints. But we are lacking quality ingredients. Other than food, I haven’t seen any explicit signs of her disapproval. I can tell that the baron really cares about her, visiting her as frequently as possible.”

  He mumbled, “I thought I spared no cost for snacks…”

  “Not just snacks. We are using low grade vegetables and meat.”

  Perishable food wasn’t something he could order since they would need to be carried in, which took around 10 days with a slow caravan. Those would need to be locally sourced. Gavin wouldn’t complain about food since he was a soldier his whole life, but Isabel was a different story since she spent her whole life as the polar opposite to his.

  “If she is pregnant as you suspect, then the quality of food is going to be important.”

  She agreed fully.

  “It’s easier said than done though… I will think of some ways.”

  Once the meeting with the head maid, Selena, was over, he proceeded to exit the manor through the main entrance.

  “Mr Page!” A soldier was running toward him as he was walking out of the manor.

  “Hmm? Yes?”

  After the battle of Moshil, Gavin had seven soldiers left. With the small number, Ansel remembered all their faces. One of them was Ted. Seeing he didn’t recognize the soldier’s face, he must have been one of the new recruits.

  “Yes? What can I do for you?”

  “I have an urgent report to make. I am a watcher at one of the outer watchtowers. I’ve spotted some movements in the outskirts. I think it’s orcs.”

  Orcs had some similarity to goblins in appearance. They both had dark green skin and were bald. That was as far as similarity in appearance went.

  Orcs were highly aggressive monsters whose height was similar to humans although a tad taller on average. They were predominantly muscular, possessing often stronger physical strength than adult males. They were also known to have a pair of tusks growing out of their lower jaws and were generally shirtless although some did favor spiky shoulder pads. Orcs, like goblins, had a few variants as well, namely giant orcs which were quite similar to ogres. In fact, giant orcs and ogres were almost identical, bar the skin color and the fact that giant orcs did not attack other orcs whereas ogres ate orcs. Finally, their love for human beverages was well known.

  “How many?”

  “Couldn’t tell. It didn’t seem like a large group though. A few tens maybe?”

  Beckoning him over, Ansel told him, “Come with me. We need to report this to the baron right now.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Of all times…,” Gavin grumbled when Ansel reported the news. “Ansel, I was thinking of retiring from the battlefield.”

  He was indeed old enough to retire and he earned it. It was time to invest into his family. However -

  “Baron, our number is thin. We need a veteran like you, sir.”

  Gavin was an expert combatant. He didn’t spend his whole life as a knight for just the glory and such. He and Finnic could probably handle a few tens of trained soldiers. Leaving such an asset out of the picture was too much of a loss, Ansel determined.

  “How many men have we got?”

  “Eleven, sir, excluding you, me, and Finnic.”

  He groaned, in deep thoughts. Eventually, his eyes came to focus.

  “Fine, I will join this time. But I do want to retire.”

  “I do understand your sentiment, and you will once our force grows large enough.”

  Gavin no longer wanted to take risks because of Isabel. The woman lost her husband once to an accident. He wasn’t going to make her lose her husband once again under any circumstances. Life was never easy for widowed women unless they had a strong family, which she did, but it wouldn’t have been easy for her either way.

  “Fine, what is your plan, Ansel?”

  Gavin used to be in charge of monster extermination under Count Rassier, and this was where Ansel proved his worth after giving him advice, greatly reducing loss.

  “It’s easy to see that the orcs are after our tavern.”

  Orcs loved alcohol, especially beer. Unlike goblins that loved women, it was probably kegs of beer they were after.

  “And they have a strong tendency to attack at night due to their night vision, so my plan is simple in concept. We lie in wait near the tavern and tackle them when they launch their attack.”

  Gavin muttered, “We don’t have their exact number though…”

  “A few tens, he said, right?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Let’s say it’s thirty or so. We can handle them.”

  After a moment of consideration, Gavin declared, “Alright, have Finnic ready men. But I will leave a pair to guard the manor gate as usual, so we will have nine men.”

  The manor was barebone at the moment. Only two nobles, three maids, and a child servant in training were living in it. The place was capable of housing multiple generations of a family with ease.

  “Understood, sir. You go inform the guard captain. Also tell him to notify the tavern owners.”

  Saluting, the soldier acknowledged Ansel’s order at once and left.

  “Is there anything else, Ansel?”

  “Indeed, there is. Do you remember Clara?”

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  He scoffed. “Of course, I do. Wallace and Clara, what disgrace they were.”

  “She has been sending letters to the head maid, begging her to take back. She has asked me for an intervention.”

  He smashed the table lightly. “How dare she! Does she not know the gravity of her crime?!”

  “What should we do then?”

  “Ignore her? I mean, what could she possibly do? And more importantly what can we do now? She’s already been punished.”

  Folding arms, Ansel scratched his chin slowly. “Baron, it’s probably a letter of recommendation she is after.”

  Maids received a letter of recommendation generally if being let go amiably. It would allow them to be hired by other noble houses much easier. Without it, they wouldn’t be hired. Of course, she could lie and claim that she was never a maid before. But that would be a risky move. If other maids found out that she was already experienced, she’d be kicked out anyway. She might even receive a punishment, like slicing off her hands.

  “Are you mad? My name will be on the hook!”

  A letter of recommendation would include the name of the noble who guaranteed the maid in question. If Clara was given one and caused yet another trouble, Gavin Durrell’s name would drop to mud. He obviously did not want that.

  “You don’t want to?”

  “Why should I give her what she wants after what she has done? Look, I don’t know what you are planning but I won’t have it. I am standing my ground on this one. Ignore all letters from that wench.”

  Ansel nodded. “I see. If you are firm on this, then I shall speak no further.”

  “Get ready to get rid of the orcs. That’s far more important than some whining wench. I won’t have them lingering about. Is it going to be tonight?”

  “The sooner the better, but we need to make sure what they are trying to do. I will inform the watchers to be extra vigilant. Baron, I am going to excuse myself now. I need to check up on things.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Just as he turned around to leave Gavin’s office, he had an urge to ask.

  “Baron, how are things with the baroness?”

  “She’s very … stoic, just like you. It’s weird to say this but it feels like talking to a female version of you.”

  “That’s … creepy?”

  Gavin laughed. “Indeed. Nevermind what I said.”

  Nodding, he replied, “Excuse me now.”

  Seeing Gavin laugh like so made him feel that they were doing okay. He may indeed like her, but she probably didn’t. Only time will tell.

  Upon reaching the watchtower on the western end, he met up with a watcher and discussed the recent findings. It looked like there had been occasional monster sightings, but they were insignificant to make any formal report. He had to see for himself and ventured into the forest to track footsteps. Orc footsteps were very similar to human’s. Therefore, it may be hard to distinguish them at first. However, once you saw enough of them, there was a major difference. It was the depth of footsteps. Orcs were heavier, thus making deeper footsteps especially in muddy terrain. And, for Gavin’s men, orcs were the most frequently encountered monsters. Therefore, Ansel saw enough of their footsteps to be able to tell.

  “A group has been around for sure,” he remarked as he inspected numerous footsteps found throughout the forest floor. It was even easier to tell since he knew, for a fact, that villagers barely ventured into the woods. After all, he performed almost daily inspection of the town.

  “Alright, I’ve seen enough.”

  Returning to the outpost, he saw Ted the squire waiting for him.

  “Sir! The tavern owners wish to speak to you.”

  “I was about to see them anyway. Let’s go.”

  The tavern owners were a very young couple, both in their early 20s. He did recall that they were children of tavern owners themselves. They looked gloomy as Ansel stepped forward to meet them.

  “Ehm, we thank you for letting us take over the tavern,” the man, presumably the husband, spoke a bit hesitantly. “We are grateful.”

  “We will do our absolute best not to damage the place. Fear not if that’s your worry.”

  The woman’s face lit up a bit.

  “Yes…, we thank you for the assurance… But, ehm…”

  He clearly wanted to ask something.

  “What is it you wish to ask?”

  “We were … told that we were going to meet the baron’s second in command… You … can’t be him, can you?”

  The woman nodded very subtly in agreement. Either way, he took no offense to their doubts. It wasn’t the first time people doubted his position and it was totally understandable as well. After all, he was just eleven years old.

  “My name is Ansel Asvete, a page serving the baron. And I am indeed the second in command.”

  The couple looked beyond him, looking at Ted for a confirmation, which he duly did with a firm nod.

  “I, I see. I would have never thought…” He cleared his throat, easing his tense posture. “I know you told us but please do not damage the place. We’ve just started and are literally penniless.”

  The woman nodded in agreement strongly.

  “The door might get damaged.”

  “That much is fine. It’s the beer kegs I am worried about.”

  While their concern was valid, there was only so much he could promise. In his mind, the safety of his men came first. Everything else was a toss. Still, he wasn’t about to tell them the truth.

  “We will do what we can to minimize the damage. I can’t promise much more than that.”

  The couple looked disappointed but there was nothing they could do. He felt that this was better than giving them empty promises. And, over several days, the watchers kept very close eyes on their movements. A small group of orcs was confirmed and it looked like they were progressively moving toward the tavern as expected. What was perhaps more interesting was that they were being extra careful with approaching the tavern.

  “Orcs? Being careful? What a load of nonsense,” Finnic said with a chuckle. “We should just take them out.”

  “You do know why we are not doing that, right?”

  The problem was numbers. Nine versus thirty wasn’t a good situation where they could just take them on and emerge victorious with certainty. Ansel felt that the element of surprise was absolutely needed in this scenario. He wanted no serious casualties in addition. A decisive victory was needed for morale and an increase in trust for the town folks toward their baron. But Finnic was correct on one thing. Orcs were dumb in general. They weren’t being “careful”, either. They were getting lost in the woods. He came to such a conclusion after carefully tracking them for days. They were moving toward the tavern due to the smell of beer but were getting lost here and there and ran away by sunrise. Therefore, he came up with a plan. Instead of letting them reach the tavern, he’d purchase a keg of beers and place it in the woods. He placed the beer keg on a path where orcs were always passing by. The tavern owners were much happier with this needless to say. In fact, they were so happy that they gave a keg of beer away for free.

  “The operation is tonight,” he declared to Gavin in his office.

  Cracking his fingers, he replied with glee. “Finally. We wasted so many days. Any special instructions?”

  Ansel would tell him if there was any, and Gavin would bark them out. That was how it generally worked.

  “We will be fighting in the woods. We will be light on foot. That includes you as well, baron.”

  “Yes, I see the point.”

  A battle in the woods played out a bit differently. With trees which provided a good cover as well as a means to trick opponents, being light on foot mattered. But soldiers who were used to fighting in the woods were pretty rare. In fact, orcs were likely far more used to fighting in the woods than them.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve fought in the woods… Well, I was so much younger back then…”

  And thus the stage was set. As the sky was turning into twilight color, Gavin, Finnic, Ansel, and nine soldiers, including Ted the squire, were gathered at the wooden gate to the Durrell manor. They were all lightly armored and none of them was carrying a shield. Standing in front of them imposingly, Gavin, flanked by Ansel and Finnic, began his speech.

  “Alright, men. Tonight, we will vanquish the stray orcs that have been trespassing our domain,” he declared. “This is going to be a woodland fight, meaning you must fight dirty. Use whatever tricks you can pull to get an upper hand.” Then he turned his upper body around to look up at the manor where Isabel was seen behind a window, apparently looking down at them from afar. With a smile, he waved his hand like a child at her. It looked like she waved back very, very, reluctantly. Turning back to face his men, he exclaimed, “Now let us fight for those who are waiting for us at home!”

  Finnic and Ansel exchanged a glance with the former snickering silently.

  Because of the fact that orcs had night vision which allowed them to see shapes of objects under low light, they had a clear upper hand in this battle. At the moment, Gavin and his men were waiting by the western watch tower where orcs roamed the most frequently. It was also where the beer keg was placed. It was a very short distance away. Ansel was atop of the watch tower and was inspecting the forest with his dark vision spell which was a superior version of night vision. While he had a limited pool of mana, he was full of mana at the moment, and the dark vision spell cost very little mana due to it being a very basic spell, thus he was able to afford to use it on this occasion.

  “Good, bright tri-moons,” he whispered to himself as he looked up to the sky. The three moons were overlapped into each other one third way in, forming a shape of three overlapping circles. The middle one was the largest and was overlapping the other two. The other two moons were almost identical in size. The moons provided some light at least. They had to wait well past midnight to see some movements finally. Ansel saw a group of orcs moving in a zigzag pattern while approaching the beer keg and he understood why they had been acting weird in their movements. It looked like they had two leaders who were giving out pretty much opposite orders left and right. The two leaders would eventually duke out to decide a winner. Whatever the case, the group eventually located the beer keg and celebrated while smashing the top lid while completely oblivious about the bung hole. They were using their hands to scoop up the beer and drink. It was time to attack them. Climbing down the tower, he saw some of the men sleeping on the ground.

  “Baron, it’s time,” he declared at which point Finnic kicked the sleeping guys to wake them up. One of the soldiers was going to hold up a large torch and stay in the back to provide some additional light.

  “Alright, men, let’s proceed, Follow me,” Gavin said while checking his equipment for the final time. Finnic urged others to do the same. “Walk as silent as possible.”

  But that was far easier said than done in a forest with lots of leaves and fallen branches. Thankfully, the orcs were oblivious of their approach since they were drinking their brains out. They were loud as well.

  “On my mark,” Gavin whispered while crouching. The orcs were within their reach. He could reach them in seconds once he dashed. The monsters were gathered around the broken keg and were fighting to scoop the beer.

  “... Now!” Having said so, he dashed forward with his sword aimed straight at the back of an orc. His sword pierced his back to his chest, at which point, he swung his blade sideways, effectively cutting him open and killing it pretty much instantly.

  “Light the torch!” Ansel barked out an order, and the soldier holding a large torch lit it immediately, illuminating the area. Finnic and Ted made their charges as well, killing an orc each. The other remaining seven soldiers followed the suit.

  There were twenty eight orcs. Three were killed by Gavin, Finnic, and Ted right at the start of the fight. Ansel was staying by the torch man because he was important in this battle. He needed to provide a light source as well as a point to retreat if needed.

  “Eat this!” Finnic exchanged a few swings. Orcs never used a sword. Instead, they used an axe or a club. A long sword, which the men used, had a slight advantage with length in this situation. Ansel provided some assistance wherever it was needed by dashing forward and thrusting his spear into the neck of orcs. He dispatched two orcs this way while saving two soldiers. Meanwhile, a soldier was fighting three orcs at once. He was using a tree as a cover and was dealing with them left and right in turn.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he uttered as he was overwhelmed by the situation. Nevermind killing them, he had to go full on defense by using the tree as a shield. Finnic charged at one of them, loosening the pressure on him.

  “Thanks, captain!”

  “Run to the torch man! Ansel is there! He can assist you!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  He fanatically dashed toward the torch in darkness, almost tumbling a few times. As the torch man was in sight, he felt a breeze passing him. It was Ansel dashing forward, but he was so preoccupied in fleeing that he didn’t even see him pass by.

  “URAAK!”

  One of the chasing orcs howled in agony as a spear pierced through its mouth to the back of its head. This rather gruesome sight made the other chasing orc falter. Turning around, it fled into darkness.

  Huffing and puffing, the soldier was on four.

  “Get back to the fight once you regain your composure,” Ansel told him indifferently.

  “Y, yes, sir…”

  At one point, some of them immediately started to disperse as if they had enough. The sudden turn of events made Ansel confused a bit. Only he was able to see this because he was a distance away with dark vision. Others were busy fighting.

  “Maybe one of their leaders got killed?” he mused. Orcs, unlike goblins, had very little cohesion. And, with two leaders in the group, their unity was shaky at the best. Once about seven of them left or fled the scene, the fight was swiftly morphed up. Letting them flee wasn’t a good idea since they’d regroup and might return, thus he chased one down and thrust his spear into its back. He wanted one less to deal with later.

  “Uoooooow!” Howling in pain, it turned around violently with the spear stuck in its flesh. Given Ansel’s light weight physique, he was flung away with the spear. At least, the spear got unstuck, and he landed safely. Enraged, it charged toward him and swung its crude, but heavy, wooden club.

  “Oph!” He blocked the swing with his spear being held up horizontally with both hands. The swing was too powerful to simply deflect.

  “UWA, UWA, UWA!” Barking some sounds or words, it swung its club once again, but that was a mistake. As the orc held its club high to swing, that was enough momentum for him to steady his spear and thrust forward. He aimed for its neck, but the orc blocked it with his club. Stomping forward, it attempted to grab him to no avail as he jumped backwards.

  A one on one fair fight might be too much for me.

  The problem was the sheer difference in weight and strength. He realized that he could take it down by only sneak attacks and trickery. They glared at each other for a moment before the orc turned around and started to walk away. He knew he could take it down with magic, like a shadow bolt. However, there was no reason to waste precious mana on an occasion like this. In the end, he let it go and walked toward the others.

  “Is everyone alright?” Gavin was accessing the result.

  “I think I may have cracked my rib,” Finnic muttered while holding his left chest. “It doesn’t seem broken though.”

  Two men were down. One had a broken leg. The other had a broken arm. Another man had apparently cracked his skull as well. They were all moaning in pain when Ansel returned. He had a quick look.

  “Looks like no one died.”

  “Yes, but many are wounded,” Gavin replied.

  Ansel counted orc bodies and found fifteen in the immediate vicinity. He killed one a short distance away when a soldier was running toward him for safety.

  “We killed sixteen, so roughly half,” he said.

  “Do you think they will return?” Finnic asked, moaning in pain.

  “Probably not for the foreseeable future. We are going to need more men.”

  The operation wasn't a failure but wasn’t successful, either, in his mind. The threat loomed still.

  “We will call it a complete victory,” Gavin declared.

  Tilting his head, Ansel gave it a thought for a brief moment. “Trying to impress the baroness, sir?”

  Finnic chuckled but had to go down to his knee due to pain.

  “We are going to call it a complete victory,” he repeated with a firm voice. “Am I clear?”

  Shrugging, Ansel helped Finnic get back up. “Sure thing, sir. You are the lord.” Then, he looked around at the soldiers. “You heard him, right? This was a complete victory.”

  With grins and giggles, they nodded.