Aiden went down the rear steps, his boots making no sound against the old stone.
The barracks lay restless near him - some snored behind shut rooms, while far off came the rattle of guards swapping posts. Holt's voice kept playing in his mind, slow and sharp like metal on stone. Nobody believes it till the page goes blank.
The captain stared a while - too long. Spotted things he shouldn't have.
Aiden wanted more than just paperwork or rumors - he had to see things himself. Someone out there, watching real action, was what it took.
The stables sat at the back of the outer yard - a stretched-out structure smelling sharply of hay, dung, and damp horses, noticeable even when you were far off. Lights dangled from wooden rafters within, throwing soft glows across cubicles and workers doing last chores.
He moved quietly via the back entrance.
The air turned dense fast - hot, like a weight. Horses kicked at the floor, flicking their tails nonstop. Back by the wall, two workers shoved hay bundles, muttering under breath. By the door, some soldiers not on duty perched on crates, sharing a bottle while chuckling quietly.
Over by the water trough, tucked next to a grooming spot, sat Rowan.
The kid sat on a wooden box, carving a twig using a pilfered blade. Beside him rested his bag, where a tiny tail twitched near the top. When Aiden came close, Rowan lifted his gaze - his stare turned alert.
"You're late," the boy said, voice pitched low. "Thought clerks had bedtime stories."
"Clerks have work," Aiden replied, leaning against a post. "What did you hear?"
Rowan glanced at the soldiers, then back. "Plenty. You want the good stuff or the boring?"
"Good."
The boy leaned in, voice dropping to a conspirator's whisper. "Holt's doubling east wall patrols tomorrow. Something about 'checking the dead zones.' Whatever that means."
Aiden's gaze tightened. Over by the east side - near where the old crypts sit. Holt still wouldn't back down.
"Keep going."
Rowan grinned, enjoying the role. "Stables talk more than taverns. One of the grooms - big guy named Torm - overheard Holt chewing out a priest yesterday. Said the coffin 'felt wrong' when they tried to seal it permanent-like. Priest mumbled something about a soul refusing to settle."
Aiden froze - suddenly quiet. That voice again - the one from nowhere. It yanked him out mid-ritual, like a hook in his ribs.
Rowan didn't notice his reaction. "Then there's Seris. She's been in the inner palace every night this week. Wedding prep, they say. Big ceremony next month. Whole city's buzzing."
Seris.
The name dropped heavy, sudden silence breaking. Yet Aiden pictured her - warm grins by fire glow, fingers light on his gear post-fight. Falsehoods. Every bit.
"Loyal dogs are easy to guide."
His fingers curled a bit. "What more?"
Rowan's grin faded. "Yeah. The soldiers... they're scared of Holt right now. Not the usual 'tough captain' scared. Real scared. One said Holt's been staring at patrol logs like they're hiding his dead mother. Keeps asking about faces that don't match names."
Faces without a name tag. Yet somehow familiar, though you can't place them.
Like Elias Grant.
Aiden straightened. "Good work. Better than good."
Rowan shrugged, yet his chest swelled a bit. "Like I said - stables catch every sound."
The little cat picked just then to crawl from the bag, puffing up like it owned the place - then shoved its head into Rowan's palm. He rubbed its ears without thinking. "Ghost thinks this spot's fine. Fewer scrappy rodents than back on the highway."
Aiden stood there, watching closely - some odd feeling creeping in. This kid didn't owe anything. Nothing to gain, just echoes of someone gone. Still, he showed up ready, focused like a blade, standing firm beside him.
"Stay sharp tomorrow," Aiden said. "East wall patrols mean more eyes everywhere. No risks."
Rowan rolled his eyes. "Yes, dead man. I'll stick to mucking stalls and eavesdropping."
Aiden started walking away, but suddenly stopped. "In case Holt's guys show up looking for answers - "
"Deny everything," Rowan finished. "I'm just a stable boy. You?"
A worker. Then a shadow. Something sharp about to drop.
"Same," Aiden said.
He faded into the dark, thoughts flipping through fragments. Yet Holt was getting near. While Seris mapped out life alongside Kael. Though priests murmured on restless spirits.
The system beeped low when he walked through the yard.
[Ding.]
Info gathered: Holt's stepping up crypto monitoring. Meanwhile, Seris' wedding plans are now verified
[Sub-Quest Update: Leverage identified – Public event vulnerability.]
A wedding's happening. Folks everywhere. The rich stay busy with fancy clothes or drinking.
A total mess for someone who's gone.
Still, Holt had to be kept an eye on - just a bit nearer.
Aiden got to the side entrance of the barracks just as a shout sliced out of the night.
"Grant!"
He froze.
Sergeant Varro stepped out of the dark, a lantern swaying in his thick grip. His clothes looked baggy, as if pulled on fast after sleeping. The captain's looking - needs you right away. Something's off with the armory records
Aiden's heartbeat - if it even existed anymore - stayed slow. Heading there
Varro eyed him in the lantern light. "You look too awake for this hour. Unnatural."
"Clerks don't sleep much," Aiden said evenly. "Comes with the ink."
Varro snorted, then looked off. "Move fast - Holt's eating rocks later."
Aiden came behind, fingers grazing the handle of his blade.
Holt's just sitting there, keeping an eye out. The numbers in the records? They don't match up at all.
Either a coincidence.
Maybe the wolf began chasing prey.
Chapter 10: The Wolf's Suspicion
Holt's office door was left ajar, glow creeping out into the hall - much like crimson seeping from a new cut.
Whispers from within - quiet, on edge. Aiden stopped nearby, pressed against the wall, ears sharp. Yet he stayed still, caught in the moment, waiting it out.
"...numbers don't lie, Captain. Spears short by twelve. Arrows by thirty." Varro's rumble.
"Then find the thief," Holt snapped. "Or did you forget how inventory works?"
Aiden moved through the door opening.
The room felt bare but practical - desk marked from knife drills, maps stuck on walls, one line of soldier gear shining behind Holt. Captain perched there, arms folded, gaze sharp as broken stone. Varro waited off to the side, damp with sweat even in the cold air.
Grant," Holt muttered, eyes still stuck on the page. "Tell me what's going on here
Aiden moved across the room, grabbing the book Varro held out. He glanced at the rows inside - spears were short by twelve, twenty-fourty-seven listed versus two-fifty-nine needed. Arrows? Same issue, numbers didn't line up. The dates lined up fine though, just like what he'd written down the day before.
"Requisition mismatch," Aiden said calmly. "Page 14 authorized transfer to east gate armory. Sergeant Lorne signed off."
Holt's gaze lifted. "Lorne's dead. Bandit ambush three days ago."
Aiden didn't flinch. "Then the signature's forged. Or someone used his seal."
Varro shifted uncomfortably. "Captain, Grant copied those exact numbers yesterday. Clean work."
Holt didn't look away from Aiden, blanking the other guy. Seconds dragged on - thick, like armor weighing down the air.
"You work fast for a border garrison man," Holt said finally. "Too fast."
"Clerks learn patterns," Aiden replied. "Or they drown in paper."
Holt sat up straight, arms resting on the table. "Notice anything repeating in this?"
Aiden met his eyes. "Someone's skimming for profit. East wall prep means high demand. Arrows fetch triple in black market right now."
The captain's face stayed blank - yet a flicker moved beneath. Not quite surprise, just knowing.
"Smart," Holt said. "Smarter than most clerks."
He stood abruptly, chair scraping. "Varro, wake the quartermasters. Full audit by dawn. Grant - "
Aiden waited.
" - you're with me tomorrow. East wall inspection. See these patterns up close."
Varro's eyes opened a bit wider. After all, clerks never joined inspection rounds.
"Yeah, boss," Aiden replied.
Holt waved them off - short, no words.
Outside in the corridor, Varro hissed, "What the hells was that? Holt never takes pen-pushers."
A test.
"He's measuring," Aiden said quietly. "Seeing if the pattern holds."
Varro cursed. "Stay alive out there. I need someone who can write."
Aiden headed back to his place when the first light touched the clouds.
[Ding.]
[New Quest: Trial by Wolf.]
[Goal: Stay alive during Holt's check - don't let the zombie side show.]
[Reward: Level Up + Holt Weakness Data.]
Punishment? Fast-response teams sent out
East side wall. That's where Holt runs things. Can't mess this up.
The corpse stepped into the room.
The big wolf moved closer, curious about his grin.