(I decided to remove the character cards for John Wick and Edward Morra because I realized they were a bit pointless, so here we go)
(2 months later)
Cheating, there's no other way to describe it, pure and simple cheating.
With a quick movement, I raise my wooden sword to parry Geralt's, then attempt to strike. He effortlessly blocks my blow and counters with an attack that I manage to deflect. Our exchanges are swift and efficient if we had been wielding real swords, each one could have been deadly.
Our superhuman strength ensures the wooden swords don't last long; they break quickly, joining the many others that have perished during my intense training with the witcher.
"I think that's enough for today. Alfred might get angry if we destroy all the training swords in the barracks." I glance around, noting the spectators who have gathered to watch my duel with Geralt, though I suspect most of the female onlookers are more interested in the fact that neither Henry Cavill nor I are wearing shirts.
"Indeed, he will." Small laughs escape both our lips as Alfred approaches, two towels draped over his right arm, a letter in his left hand. "If you're finished, gentlemen, you might want to freshen up. News from Master Noir has arrived. You know what that means, don't you?" The smiles on my face and Geralt's fade as Alfred's words sink in.
I sigh, take the letter, and quickly scan its contents. A cold determination settles over me as I hand the letter back. Without a word, Geralt nods and heads toward the barracks, followed by the guards. I follow Alfred toward the castle to prepare for what's to come.
My first battle, my first real fight, and undoubtedly the first time I'll have to kill. It's a test, more mental than physical. I know I have the strength to tear a man in half with my bare hands, but mentally, it's a different story.
I grew up in the rough neighborhoods of New York, I've been in my share of brawls, but I've never taken a life. I've never been pushed that far. Yet here, in this world, with these responsibilities, I know I'll have to spill blood to defend my lands, my people, and my family.
Or myself, when facing assassins, for example. But those are problems for the future me. Right now, I must focus on the traitors I intend to eliminate, down to the last adult and child. That thought makes me waver the most going from someone who's never killed to a child killer wasn't something I ever imagined. But I must do what's necessary. There are moments when I can show weakness; this isn't one of them.
Sigh.
Watch over me, Ryan.
The hardest part of this operation is the journey. Skagos is a mountainous island, and we're traveling in the snow. Fortunately, our ordeal is nearly over. In the distance, I see the town under the control of House Crowl.
From where I stand, I have a wide view of the city. Combined with my spies' reports, I have a clear understanding of the enemy's forces.
The town, encircled by walls, holds about nine thousand inhabitants, none trained in martial skills. The thousand-man guard is merely a group of men who survived famine and the cold my father couldn't handle. Interestingly, the people on these traitorous lands aren't technically my subjects. Reclaiming them for Skagos' development is crucial, so minimizing casualties is key. Luckily, I have a plan.
A simple plan, thanks to my overpowered system.
[Intelligence Agency] [40,000 gold dragons]
Infrastructure that trains spies for espionage, assassination, and sabotage. Place adult villagers in the agency to become spies.
[Cattle Breeding: Cows] [Cost: 50,000 gold dragons]
Infrastructure for raising livestock to generate various products. Place adult villagers to learn cattle breeding.
[Farm: Carrots, Corn, Onions, Tomatoes] [Cost: 90,000 gold dragons]
Infrastructure for cultivating various vegetables. Place adult villagers to learn a become farmers.
[Water Distributor] [40,000 gold dragons]
Infrastructure to convert saltwater into freshwater. Place adult villagers to become water distributors.
[Sewing Houses] [30,000 gold dragons]
Infrastructure for producing garments for all seasons. Place adult villagers to become tailors and designers.
Skagos has suffered from catastrophic living conditions for years. But what if rumors spread by my spies, claimed that the new Lord Harlow had improved the quality of life, producing food, water, better security, housing, and clothes, and was willing to share it with those loyal to House Harlow?
Enduring years of misery, you might not believe it, but you'd hold onto a glimmer of hope. And then one day, who shows up at your door with food, water, and warm clothes?
This is why I brought only two thousand men and came in broad daylight so they could see us clearly, along with the supplies. I want them to see my armed, intimidating men, to understand that fighting isn't the solution. These people are poor, hungry, thirsty, and cold, watching their families die due to their miserable conditions. They owe no loyalty to House Crowl, but they will to House Harlow once I feed and shelter them.
With a wave of my hand, I signal my men to advance with the wagons covered in tarps containing enough supplies for the town for a month. Riding ahead on my horse, I take the lead as we approach the gates. The guards watch warily, eyeing the wagons.
I don't wait long before the gates open, revealing a man in his thirties, with a rough, bald face. His clothes, slightly better than those of the peasants on the walls, look like rags next to mine.
This rat approaches with five poorly equipped men, trying to appear confident, but his fear is evident in his eyes, posture, and gait. He fears me. Good. I want this dog to die in fear and despair.
He stops about ten meters away. I could easily reach him, and no group of peasants with rusty swords would stop me. But I push aside those thoughts and speak loudly, my voice amplified by Compound V.
"Let it be known to all who hear me." The traitor flinches at the power of my voice, while the guards are surprised it reaches them from twenty meters away. "I, Alexander Harlow, Lord of Skagos, give you one hour to lay down your arms. If not, my army will attack." Trembling bodies, wide eyes, quickened breaths, sweat dripping from foreheads, good, they're scared. They aren't entirely stupid. "Anyone who raises a weapon for House Crowl will be considered an enemy of Skagos and killed. However, those who lay down their arms and swear loyalty to House Harlow"
I wave my hand, and the tarps are pulled back, revealing the supplies. "Those loyal to House Harlow will receive what all those loyal to me have received: food, water, warm clothing. Let the entire town hear, lower your weapons, and a better life awaits you."
Without glancing back, I turn away. I hear the traitor's hurried footsteps heading inside his pathetic walls as I make my way to my tent. Now, all that's left is to wait.
Watching the peasants who served as the town guards drop their weapons, a smile spread across my face as my plan unfolded perfectly.
Twenty minutes, that's how long it took for my words to spread through the town, for the villagers to almost attack the guard, forcing them to open the gates and surrender. This allowed me, my men, and the supplies to enter. As soon as I distributed the provisions, the people praised me, though it sparked a slight feeling of disdain. Thanks to my spies, I knew most of them thought I'd be as inept as my father.
Damn peasants.
Oh well, I have other problems. With a powerful kick, I break down the door separating me from the traitor and his family. A dozen peasants stand between us. My eyes quickly scan the throne room, a poor attempt, but a throne room nonetheless.
Someone's got delusions of grandeur, I see.
I fix my gaze on the dozen peasants pointing their weapons at me, contempt rising as I observe their stances. "Raising your weapon against your lord is treason, punishable by death. Last chance, lower your weapons, and you will live." Despite initial hesitation, they keep their arms raised. Loyalists, how adorable. "So be it." My cold eyes make them shiver as my soldiers enter the room.
A massacre follows. The skirmish lasts mere seconds. Soon, only my soldiers, myself, and the traitorous family remain. "Leave us." My voice is calm but heavy. My orders are quickly obeyed.
The father, his wife, his son, his daughter, and their newborn, just a year old, cradled in his mother's arms. Of all those I must kill, these two are the hardest. But as I said, I must.
The father and son, who looks to be in his twenties, draw their swords. I let out a sigh, drawing my sword. "At least you won't die as cowards."
The son charges first, his father close behind. Despite their decent swordsmanship, I have superhuman strength and speed. I overpower them with ease.
Determined to end this quickly, I parry the son's blow before striking him in the face. He drops his sword, falling to one knee. His father rushes to attack, but I kick him into the wall, killing him on impact.
I turn back to the boy, but as I approach, his mother lunges at me with a dagger. I catch her by the throat
With a swift motion, I lift her off the ground, her feet dangling for a fleeting moment before I snap her neck. Her lifeless body crumples to the floor. The son's eyes widen in sheer horror as he watches, too stunned to react. In one fluid movement, my blade pierces his chest, straight to the heart. He slumps forward, his life extinguished in an instant.
Another sigh escapes me. My gaze shifts to the daughter, who looks to be around Laena's age, clutching an infant in her arms. She's huddled in a corner, her body trembling with terror. Tears stream down her face, her eyes wide and pleading.
"I promise it will be quick and painless," I say, my voice heavy, each word burdened with the weight of what I am about to do. My eyes are resolute but tinged with sorrow.
"Please..." she whispers, her voice cracking under the strain of her fear. She clutches the child even tighter, pressing herself against the wall, desperately searching for any possible escape.
I hesitate for a brief moment, forcing myself to take a deep breath to steady my nerves. "I'm sorry," I murmur, more to myself than to her. Then, with grim determination, I raise my sword.
In one swift, precise motion, it's over.
A profound silence settles over the room, broken only by the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I stare down at the bodies before me, a mixture of sadness and weariness etched into my face.
"It's done," I whisper, the words barely audible, as if trying to convince myself of the finality of it all. I sheathe my sword and turn away, not sparing a last glance. The weight of my role as lord presses down on me, heavier than ever before.
As I step through the door, my soldiers stand ready, awaiting orders. A simple nod from me, and they move to carry on with their duties. House Crowl is now under Harlow rule, but the cost... the cost is immeasurable.
Walking down the corridor toward the daylight, one thought echoes in my mind: Not so peaceful this new life
---
What should I call the capital of Skagos?