Dawn came - chilly, pale light creeping above the eastern rampart.
Aiden stayed down where the stones met earth, cold gusts slicing through his gear sharp as blades. The training ground lay beneath - soldiers moving fast, yelling loud from soaked ground. Up ahead, a cliff of old rock climbed high, its edge broken like teeth against clouds.
Holt stayed up there, keeping watch.
Alone.
No lieutenants. Not even sentries. Only the commander stood there, hands folded tight across his chest, eyes locked forward - cold, unblinking, like stone shaped by doubt. Wind tugged at his black coat, flapping hard. The golden lion on his shoulder gleamed under sudden light.
Aiden moved up - step by step, steady. His boots gripped the wet rock without slipping. Not fast, just sure. He didn't pause, never slowed.
The captain stayed quiet when Aiden got to the wall. Just looked. Watching each move - how his shoulders sat, the tilt of his head, how he held the book tucked under one arm.
Searching for cracks.
"Report," Holt mentioned after a pause.
Aiden opened the ledger without looking down. "Quartermasters finished audit at third hour. Spears accounted for. Arrows still short eighteen. No seals match Lorne's exactly, but close. Someone has his ring."
Holt grunted. "And the pattern?"
"Black market buyer inside the city. East gate supplier most likely. Timing matches weapon prep for Seris' wedding escort."
The captain's gaze tightened - just a bit - not because of what was said, but on Aiden himself.
"You know a lot for a clerk."
"Records teach more than swords," Aiden said evenly. "Especially when they're bleeding coin."
Holt spun around, moving along the edge. Right after, Aiden matched his pace - near enough to catch the faint groan of metal, distant enough to show space was respected.
They moved past lookout spots, arrow openings, piles of storage boxes. The breeze roared through cracks, bringing far-off yells from practice down under - linked by thin echoes fading into stone.
Spot something odd? Holt blurted out.
Test number two.
Aiden scanned the wall without breaking stride. "Crate seals look fresh. No tampering. But third post from the tower - arrow count doesn't match rotation logs. Two quivers short."
Holt paused. He looked at the note - then shifted his gaze to Aiden.
A moment without sound.
"Show me."
They moved toward the post. One guard stiffened, his face washed out after hours in the dark; the other followed a second later. Holt didn't look at either, just dropped down beside the box of arrows. Aiden stayed back, book in hand, finger resting on the right entry.
"Rotation log, page 47. Archer Torm posted here three nights. Reported full quivers both checks."
Holt's gauntlet shifted. Yet Torm
One guard gulped loudly - "Boss?"
"Where are the arrows?"
The man's eyes darted. "I - supplies came short, sir. Told the quartermaster - "
Liar." Up jumped Holt - smooth, fast - blocking the guard's view. "Check his pockets
Aiden moved ahead right when the second guard hesitated - smooth, fast. He spotted the concealed arrow bag beneath the guy's shirt.
Holt grabbed it, felt how heavy it was. "Eighteen arrows - just right."
The thief turned pale. "Boss, I promise -
"Lock him in the pit," Holt said flatly. "Double rations for the one who turns honest."
The truthful watchman gave a quick salute while pulling his mate off.
Holt looked at Aiden. Quiet once more. This stretch took even longer.
You didn't miss a thing," the captain replied at last.
"Clerks see what's written," Aiden replied. "Walls show what's not."
Holt's lips barely moved - about as close to a smile as he got. Come along
They moved ahead on the wall path. Beyond lookout posts, food sheds, the far-off tomb view. Holt asked fast, digging deeper.
"Border garrison. Which fort?"
"Redstone Pass."
"Commander?"
"Captain Veyne."
"Last patrol you ran?"
Aiden repeated facts from ancient files - true stuff, learned by heart in the back room below. Folks' names. When things happened. Paths taken. Holt checked another half-dozen. One after another.
No mistakes.
Over by the far east end of the wall, Holt paused once more. He propped himself against the rocky ledge, eyes fixed on the swells of land and faint tree line ahead. That mound with the tomb just showed up as a dark blur.
Something stirred below," Holt muttered out of nowhere, keeping it quiet. More like a statement than an inquiry.
Aiden stayed silent.
The captain continued, eyes on the horizon. "Priests felt it. Coffin resisted. Now patrols see shadows where none should be. You believe in ghosts, Grant?"
Another test. Deeper.
"No, sir," Aiden said. "Men make their own ghosts."
Holt tilted his head a bit, watching how Aiden looked from the side. "So, what sort do you usually go for?"
"The kind that finish their work."
Quiet grew longer. Meanwhile, the wind screamed outside.
Then Holt straightened. "Good answer."
He turned to head down the steps. After him went Aiden.
At the steps, the captain paused. "There's a thief ring in the city. Weapons to assassins. Information to enemies. East wall's compromised."
Aiden waited.
"Tomorrow," Holt said, "you audit the suppliers. Full access. Names. Routes. Coin trails."
"Yes, sir."
Holt went down ahead. Midway through, he shouted up - didn't look back.
"Watch your back, Grant. Smart men make enemies."
Aiden stood there, eyes on his back. Yet even clever guys can create their own luck.
[Ding.]
[Quest: Trial by Wolf – Completed.]
Reward: Move up a level! From Lv.2 to Lv.3
Holt's flaw exposed - worried sick about crypto chaos. Prefers skills that actually work
[New Skill Shard: Shadow Bind (Lv.1) – Immobilize target in darkness for 5 seconds.]
Heat flowed into lifeless blood vessels. Yet power took root in tissue and frame.
Holt trusted competence.
Aiden knew his stuff.
Soon enough, the captain'd pass over the keys - his very own cell's lock waiting to be opened.
The corpse grinned toward the breeze.
One wolf down.
One left after this one.