Chapter 135: The Ghost Watch
"The hunters intentionally made noises in the brush that you ignored completely," said Kellar, pointing directly at two recruits from the center squad. "Or even worse, some of you actually heard the snaps, but only turned for a second and, seeing nothing at first glance, went right back to huddling by the fire because of the cold. Are you idiots? What if it had been an assassin in the dark? What if it had been a scout from an enemy tribe or a beast stalking you in the snow? Every single one of you would have died tonight because of your absolute lack of focus!"
Every one of them hung their heads, swallowing their shame and the knot in their throats as they clenched their fists in anger at themselves. The silence over the field was crushing; the shaman’s lesson had bitten deeper than the freezing morning wind.
Kellar swept his gaze across them one last time, letting the weight of his words settle deep into the mind of every recruit.
"From this day on, you will repeat this exact same routine day and night until absolutely everyone passes," said Kellar, in a unyielding tone. "I expect to see a solid unit. I expect a great deal from each of you, so do not disappoint me again."
"We will not disappoint you, Great Shaman!" shouted all fifty youths in unison, straining their throats to prove their resolve.
Kellar turned toward the commander, who stood at his side with crossed arms and a stern expression.
"They are all yours, Brak," said Kellar, looking at the instructor. "Train them to the point of exhaustion, but make sure they also help with building, hunting, and whatever else the village requires. They must be versatile. Mentz will give them instructions for the construction projects. Increase the intensity of the training every day; they must catch up as a true unit."
"Understood, Great Shaman," said Brak, bowing his head with respect before turning to face the troop with a fierce grin. "You heard the leader! Retrieve your gear and hit the dirt for the first round of push-ups! Move!"
While discipline was being forged at the village camp, the atmosphere inside the mountain fortress’s improvised workshop was a hive of sparks, coal smoke, and sweat. Spread across the heavy worktables were the detailed blueprints Kellar had left behind before departing.
Garik, the master blacksmith, let out a harsh curse as he threw another piece of ruined metal onto the scrap pile. The man wiped his soot-stained forearm across his forehead, staring with frustration at the glowing steel block he had just quenched.
"Never in my life have I had to forge a tube hollow through the center and perfectly straight," said Garik, rubbing the back of his neck heavily. "If the hole strays even a millimeter to one side, the wall thickness becomes uneven and the metal cannot hold the pressure."
To one side of the workshop lay the shattered remains of five test barrels. The force of Kellar’s powder mixture explosions had burst them apart during barrel stress trials, making it crystal clear that any imperfection in centering the steel resulted in catastrophe.
For his part, Lennis remained entirely unfazed by the blacksmith’s grumbling, hunched over a small table lit by two thick candles. Using fine tweezers and a tiny hammer, the young man was tweaking the final details of the firing mechanism.
"The key is not just the strength of the barrel, Garik," said Lennis positioning a small curved metal piece onto the trigger plate. "If the hammer mechanism doesn’t strike with sufficient force or snaps on the first impact, the entire weapon is useless. I am reinforcing every spring and pin so it can withstand hundreds of consecutive shots."
"You handle your metal locks and leave the steel problem to me," said Garik, gripping the long tongs once more to shove a fresh ingot into the forge’s heart. "The Shaman trusted us to have the first real weapons ready. I won’t go to sleep until I forge an immaculate barrel."
While the manufacturing of the weapons progressed in the fortress, the exploration of the outer territory did not stop. Krag and Mark advanced at a firm pace along the rocky cliffs, accompanied by a squad of their most experienced men.
Spread before them was a vast, desolate, grayish plain: the Ash Valley. The surrounding air was heavy, impregnated with a pungent smell of sulfur and dense smoke rising from the cracks in the earth.
Krag stopped at the top of a stone hill and unfolded a leather map over his knee, marking the terrain with a piece of charcoal.
"We need to start harvesting this area immediately," said Krag, pointing to the massive accumulations of volcanic ash covering the valley floor. "The Shaman needs all the ash possible for gunpowder production and crop fertilizer, but we cannot work blindly."
Mark crouched beside him and adjusted the grip on his battle axe, watching closely as dense smoke rose from the center of the land.
"The problem is the beasts inhabiting the deep fissures," said Mark, pointing to several mounds where the ground trembled faintly. "Those things react to heavy vibrations. If we send the workers to dig blindly, the monsters will slaughter them before they can fill the first sack."
Krag nodded and began drawing a winding line on the map, skirting the higher rock formations.
"That’s why I am mapping this elevated path," said Krag, showing the route to the hunters surrounding them in silence. "We will enter along the hard stone ridges. The rock dampens the sound of footsteps. We will instruct the harvesting squads on how to extract the ash using wooden shovels instead of metal tools so as not to create metallic clacks."
"Furthermore, we must mark every valuable resource we find along the sides," said Mark, looking toward a nearby ravine where dark mineral veins gleamed amidst the ash. "We won’t just take the ash; any vein of sulfur or rare stone will be reported to Mentz and the Shaman."
The trusted men listened with absolute focus, memorizing the visual landmarks of the terrain.
"We will keep four advance scouts on the heights monitoring movement in the valley," said Krag, tucking the map into his belt. "If any beast comes to the surface, we will circle it in silence or divert its attention before it gets near the extraction zone. Tomorrow morning we will start bringing the first carts."