The air in Bogwater was thick with mist, and the silence hung heavy in the town.

The fallen had been buried far from home, but Levi wouldn't let them be forgotten.

Behind the longhouse, a small table had been set up. Nothing ceremonial. Just a list of names, and a stack of coin pouches resting under Wren's watchful eye.

Twenty-four guards had died on the road to Hornwood. Each one of them had been someone's son, brother, cousin, or friend.

Wren stood beside Levi as the first of the kin arrived. Not many came perhaps word hadn't spread, or perhaps they'd already grieved in private. A mother clutching a wool shawl. A wife carrying her child on her hip. A quiet young man with a blade hanging from his belt, maybe a brother of the dead.

They didn't speak much.

Levi kept his head lowered and spoke when he needed to.

"He died fighting, didn't he?" one of them asked. It was a woman plain-faced and quiet, her eyes reddened from earlier tears.

Levi nodded. "He died with his brothers beside him. He didn't run. He didn't beg. He was brave."

She gave a small, brittle smile. "Then that's enough."

Each family was handed a pouches of silver stags, six moons' worth of pay. Not nearly enough for the loss, Levi knew, but more than most lords would give their families. The coin was accepted without ceremony, and the people returned to their homes with sorrow.

When the last name had been spoken aloud, Levi turned to Wren. "Burn the list. They don't need to be remembered on paper. We'll remember them up here."

He tapped his temple.

Wren said nothing, but held the scroll over the brazier until the flames caught. The names curled and blackened, one by one.

By next morning, Levi stood in the training yard with Jory and Lyle. The ground was firm again, packed from boot traffic and days of drills. In the distance, the forge smoked steady.

"Their families have been paid. Now we continue on." Levi said, arms crossed.

Jory gave a slow nod. "We lost twenty-four. Now caravans guard is too light to move safely."

Lyle said. "We pull twenty-four from the town guard. The newer lads stay here."

"Agreed," Levi said. "Quiet movements. No announcements. This loss of ours must not make the people have doubt in us."

Lyle scratched his chin. "And replacements?"

"Get Munty and Kell. Tell them to find me twenty-four. Don't care where, just get them."

The order passed quickly. By late afternoon, Munty and Kell had gathered a line of men outside the yard. Thirty had answered the call, and six were dismissed after a glance.

The rest stood tall, silent, or trying to look it.

"Step forward. Say your name," Kell told them. "Swear you'll keep the peace. Swear you'll bleed if it's called for. Then you'll get armor and weapons, be paid and fed."

One by one, they did.

Among them: a barrel-chested hunter with scars across both forearms. A thin woodsman who'd run off bandits in the south marsh. Most were young, none younger than fifteen.

They stood straight when Levi passed them.

"Training begins tomorrow," Arl barked. "You'll be grouped with older guards. Watch them. Do as they do. Keep your mouth shut, your hands clean, and your blade sharp."

By the next day, training began again in full. Recruits learned the basics how to stand, how to march, how to hold a spear without jabbing the man beside them, how to use their bows to hit their targets, how to properly use their swords.

But it was the new shields that drew the most attention.

They weren't round like most Northern shields levi bought last time. These were built in Bogwater by the request of Levi himself.

Narrow at the top, wide at the base. A bit like stretched kites. Made from thin layers of swamp wood, boiled leather, and reinforced with blackened iron. Iron on the rim was banded in to catch blows without breaking.

"They look like weird." one recruit whispered.

"They'll hold better than any shield you've ever seen," Jory said. "And they're ours."

Levi stepped past a row of the recruits, watching as they hefted the new shields.

"No sigils," one asked. "Nothing carved?"

"We aren't a house, Nor am i a lord." Levi said. "We are men who will guard our town and my caravans."

The shield drills began before midday. Arl and Munty barked commands. The older guards set the example. The newer men followed suit, struggling but learning.

Elsewhere in the yard, Jory oversaw the quiet rotation of the old town guards into caravan duty. No complaints. A few nods. One man paused to clasp arms with his cousin before moving on.

Levi noticed.

He said nothing.

By week's end, the transition was complete. Caravan guard numbers had recovered. Town watch held steady. And the forge kept burning, to make swords and arrows now.

There was no need to make shield, spears and bows now. Levi's cheat engine has recognized the shield.

Bringing out 300 shields quietly and giving it to the men.

So the day past quietly.