The barracks felt heavier than usual when I stepped in. Not from the weight of the armor or the metallic scent of oil and gunpowder that always clung to the air, but from the silence. Soldiers didn't laugh today. They didn't joke or boast. They stood straighter, eyes snapping forward the moment I passed.
They had seen what Chris did to me. They had seen me — General Soren Vask — fined, punished, humiliated in the open. And yet, they still looked at me like I was a god of war.
But I knew better. Their eyes weren't filled with admiration alone. There was doubt now. Fear, yes. Loyalty, still. But the doubt… it lingered.
I stopped in the middle of the training ground.
"Fall in!" My voice cut through the compound like a blade.
Boots thundered as the men rushed into formation, shoulders squared, eyes forward. Blackwood soldiers, elite and brutal. My soldiers.
I scanned them, one by one. Some avoided my eyes. Others stared back, burning with questions they dared not ask.
I let the silence stretch before I spoke.
"You think because the King punished me, I am weak?" I roared, my voice like fire against stone walls. "You think because I was fined, because I was reminded of my duty, that I am less than who I am?"
The men stood stiff. None answered.
I stepped forward, pacing the line. "The King—" I paused, then growled, "—Chris Blackwood, punished me not because he doubted me, but because I went soft on you."
A ripple went through the ranks. Some clenched their jaws. Others dropped their gazes.
"Yes, I admit it!" I slammed my fist against my chest. "I saw you as brothers. I treated you as men with honor. But I forgot… we are not brothers here. We are weapons. Each of you exists not for yourselves, not for me, but for the Blackwood throne!"
My words thundered through the air.
"You dare think the King's wrath ended with my punishment? No. If any one of you slips, if any one of you dishonors the uniform, his fire will burn hotter than anything you've seen. You saw what he did to me. Imagine what he'll do to you."
I stopped pacing, turning back to face them fully.
"I will not protect you anymore. I will not shield you from his eyes. You will march sharper, train harder, bleed faster, or you will not exist at all."
The silence thickened. The men's faces hardened, fear mixing with renewed fire.
I raised my hand slowly, then slammed it down like a hammer. "From today, I will forge you into monsters the world fears again. No excuses. No softness. No hesitation. The Blackwood throne demands nothing less."
One soldier, brave or foolish, raised his voice. "And you, General? Do you still serve the throne after what was done to you?"
My gaze snapped to him like a predator. The entire formation froze.
I marched up to him, nose to nose, my voice low but laced with steel. "I serve Chris Blackwood until my last breath. His punishment is proof he watches, proof he expects more from me than anyone else. I was not broken. I was remade."
The soldier's throat bobbed. He snapped a salute. "Yes, General!"
The formation followed instantly, hundreds of voices thundering, "YES, GENERAL!"
The sound rattled the walls, the earth beneath us trembling with the force of it.
I turned away, but inside, I wrestled with myself. Chris had told me, "I need you." He needed my ruthlessness, my fire. And I knew then — my role wasn't just to lead soldiers. It was to remind the world why the Blackwood Empire could not be challenged.
If Chris wanted a monster, I would become one.
For him.
For the Empire.
For Blackwood.
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