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    The relatively dense form of the garrison helped them to traverse easily without coming across a troubling case.

    It helped even more that most of the soldiers were either at the wall, intimidating the refugees, or sleeping to be ready for their next shift.

    Arvis examined their target from a distance, which was the dining hall of the largest inn that was still intact, its windows glowing with warm lamplight and the sound of laughter spilling into the streets.

    It felt like they were having a fun holiday rather than facing a crisis. He sighed. From that alone, he would have identified Renault as one of Garithos’ men.

    Arvis looked back, ten disguised soldiers behind him, another seventy currently raiding the armory for their armor. The initial plan was to rush before the guards could react, but that assumed they would have been caught when they were moving eighty soldiers for an ambush.

    They had overestimated their enemy.

    “There’s eight people inside. Easy to take down before they can summon help. Leave Renault to me,” Arvis said. “How about the captains and sergeants with him?”

    “A mixed bag,” Halford said. “A couple of bad eggs, but most of them are career soldiers that follow the highest command. Right now, that’s Renault. They’ll change their tune.”

    Arvis nodded. It was naive to expect all soldiers to be idealists. The fact that eighty of them had chosen imprisonment instead of following orders had been impressive enough. “Handle them softly, then. Just keep an eye on them, just in case.”

    Arvis turned to the soldiers. Nine men other than Halford. They looked hesitant. He wished that Rally didn’t require a loud cry to activate. Instead, he pulled his blade, and used it against a rock, bisecting it cleanly. “There’s no need to panic,” he said calmly. “Our victory is assured. We are being careful to limit the bloodshed.”

    If there was one thing that a career soldier loved, it was having overwhelming force with them. Pure strength to pull out metal bars was impressive, but it was nothing compared to the capability to cleave through armor.

    It made things much simpler.

    The effect on the soldiers was immediate. Their spines straightened and their jaws set, the fear in eyes vanishing in anticipation of an upcoming victory.

    “Move,” Arvis said, but he took the front row.

    The front door of the inn was guarded by two of Renault’s men, relaxed and inattentive, their attention split between the crowd at the gates and whatever was happening inside. They noticed the approaching group of armored soldiers and straightened.

    “What’s going on—” the first guard asked, not realizing what was going on until Arvis hit him. Arvis hit him. Not with the Sword of Vengeance, just an open palm to the center of his breastplate.

    The force drove the man backward through the door and into the wall of the entrance hallway, where he crumpled, conscious but thoroughly unable to stand. The second guard grabbed for his sword, caught Arvis’s fist in his stomach for the trouble, his punch hard enough to bend armor.

    Two seconds. The occupants of the hall froze.

    Arvis entered, catching the gaze of Renault, a leg of roast mutton in one hand and a cup of wine in the other. Arvis recognized his face. He was one of the guards that followed Garithos when he visited the Godwyn Estate.

    He didn’t change much. Broad and heavy-jawed, with the well-fed look of someone who had never missed a meal and the small, calculating eyes of someone that did his best not to pay for the food.

    His approach silenced the room, especially with the presence of ten guards.

    “You!” Renault declared as he stood up, already drawing his sword. “I was afraid that you were smart enough to run away and make me fail my mission—“

    Arvis sighed even as he kicked the helmet on the ground, one that belonged to the guard he had used as a ram. Kicking something didn’t trigger Throwing, but Renault was too drunk to move away on time.

    As the helmet collided with him, throwing him back, the sergeants and captains in the room moved. The numbers were even, but they were without armor.

    “Children, be smart and don’t jump to the cart of a traitor,” Arvis warned them. He didn’t draw his sword. Instead, he took a step forward and punched the table, shattering it with ease.

    He knew that he couldn’t just rely on Charisma to impress them. He needed to put on a show. The other feast enjoyers had smartly pulled away, as fighting against an even number of armored soldiers was already bad enough without one of them revealing a monstrous level of strength.

    “A lapdog of my traitorous uncle,” he declared happily as he crouched down, grabbed Renault by the neck, and lifted him as if he weighed nothing, though careful not to break his neck.

    The room fell still. He looked at them. “My name is Lord Arvis Godwyn,” he said slowly, as if they were chatting. “Some of you may remember me as the joke of a captain exiled. I played along, because frankly, it was easier,” he added, amused to see them shuffling in discomfort. After all, he had unpleasant interactions with more than half of them.

    They were lucky that he had much more important things to worry about, because a forgiving man, he was not.

    Renault tried to reach his sword, but before he could, Arvis pulled his sword with his empty hand and buried it in the floor. All in a smooth move, but he made sure to add a little mana edge to make it look even more impressive.

    “We’re facing a dangerous threat that threatens all of us,” he said, then looked at Renault. “Yet, swine like him want to use the opportunity to get scraps, uncaring of the people they swore to protect as soldiers.”

    He threw Renault against the wall, hard enough to crack the wall. “Take him to prison,” he gestured to two, then turned to the rest.

    “This is mutiny,” Renault managed to say, which would have been more effective if he hadn’t been treated like a toy.

    He turned to the soldiers. “You know that there’s something wrong. A darkness covers the land, just as it covered Stormwind during the First War. The only question is whether you’re going to keep following orders from cowards that only care about their own land. Are you going to act like Stormwind swine that went around other kingdoms, begging for help rather than fighting to defend our home?”

    It was unfair to attack Stormwind, but having a negative example always helped. And, Stormwind was hardly the most popular kingdom among the seven.

    He looked at them. “Or, are you going to stand with me, and show me how true men of the land will stand against the darkness?” he said. “Are you with me?” he shouted, drawing his own sword, the water mana dancing around the edge to create a striking view.

    It was a good speech. Just in case, he also used Rally.

    It pulsed through the room, not forcing compliance, but emboldening their heart, awakening their courage. A courage that they linked to his little speech.

    “Yes, sir,” they declared.

    “Good,” Arvis said. “Halford. Organize them. We will be at the gate in two minutes.” Then, he looked at the newly converted group. “Gentleman, just remember that while I am a forgiving man about a few unimportant insults, I won’t show the same leniency to mistakes if they cause any chaos that leads to loss of life.”


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    He waved his sword, bisecting multiple chairs and a statue.

    One of the sergeants caught Halford’s gaze, who mimed kneeling. Arvis suspected that sergeant was a spy all along, considering how quickly he listened to Halford’s suggestion.

    Smart move.

    “My lord,” the sergeant declared. The others followed soon after, and not because they were forced. He could see that Rally worked wonders boosting their morale, and ultimately, they were soldiers. Command structure was what they were familiar with.

    “Excellent,” he said. “Now, let’s go and allow our citizens to get in,” he said.

    The follow-up in the betterment had been even easier. Most of the soldiers were unhappy about keeping peasants out and imprisoning their commander in the first place. Seeing the whole command structure except Renault, united would have been enough without eighty other armored soldiers mixed in.

    Arvis could see that a few of them wanted to protest, no doubt preferring what Renault and Garithos offered, but since he had the perfect way to prevent it. He had his blade drawn, casually dealing with the rubble on the way.

    As far as threats went, a blue glowing sword cutting boulders was not a subtle one.

    Arvis looked at the wall. Soldiers stood at attention, their expressions ranging between anxiety and enthusiasm.

    “Halford,” Arvis declared loudly. “Open the gates.”

    “Yes, Lord Godwyn,” he shouted even louder, catching on his intention to reflect the change in authority and playing along. Smart man.

    Halford stepped forward, his bruised face set with an authority that no amount of beating could erase. “You heard Lord Godwyn. This garrison is now under the command of House Godwyn. Our first order of business is to allow our people to enter for security.”

    The timber bars lifted with a groan that echoed off Stratholme’s empty streets. The massive gates swung outward, revealing the sea of humanity that had been pressing against them, which looked enthusiastic.

    “I am Lord Godwyn, and I welcome you to my city,” he declared as they opened. The crowd shuffled, then prepared to move. Arvis recognized the beginning of a stampede. “Slowly!” he shouted, his voice far louder thanks to his enhanced lungs. “Anyone that pushes others, I’ll personally punish!”

    Everyone froze. Arvis smiled as he walked forward, and helped a child who had fallen to get up. “You’re safe now, little man,” he said as he lifted the child.

    Power, authority, and kindness. Perfect trifecta.

    People poured through the gates, still fast, but this time without the risk of a stampede. Just to be on the safe side, he used his magic detection multiple times. He stayed near the gate, mostly observing, but occasionally helping people lift things.

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