Morning came, and Bogwater was quiet and peaceful. But not Levi's home.

A knock echoed through the door. As always, Levi rose and opened it himself.

It was Ser Sedge, the bailiff of Bogwater.

Levi gave a small nod and stepped aside. "I haven't eaten yet. Would you like to have breakfast with me?"

Ser Sedge shook his head. "I'm only here to ask a few questions. Then I'll be on my way."

Levi nodded. "Ask away."

Ser Sedge stepped inside and kept his eyes fixed on the younger man. "There are reports of naked bodies found near Hornwood forest. No one knows who these men were, but judging by their wounds, they died fighting."

Levi's face showed faint concern. "That's unfortunate. Were they killed by raiders? Or wildlings?"

Ser Sedge's gaze sharpened. "I heard some of your men died during your caravan travels."

Levi gave a slow nod. "Yes. It's a pity. If only we had known sooner. One night while camping near Barrowton, we were raided. I think they were Ironborn. My men were fast asleep, and the attack began before we could prepare."

Ser Sedge's frown deepened. "Strange that you never reported it."

Levi remained calm. "To admit such a thing would show weakness. Incompetence. My men are only a few moons into their training. If word spread, people might stop working for me altogether. They'd seek comfort and safety instead of risking their life in the roads. My caravans might stop traveling north. The entire merchant union I've built would falter. That's not how a leader should act."

The bailiff stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for any signs of deception. But eventually, Ser Sedge sighed. "Lad... I hope you're telling the truth. No lord is claiming those dead, but nobody likes seeing corpses appear without reason."

He stood to leave, then hesitated at the door. "Your men won't talk about it. They all say the same thing: 'Ask Levi.' I wonder if you told them to say that... but it matters not."

With that, Ser Sedge left.

Levi stood still, thinking about the last thin Ser Sedge said. Even the men know when to stay quiet. He felt a flicker of satisfaction. My effort to build loyalty is paying off.

But just as he turned to prepare a late breakfast, another knock came.

He shook his head, muttering to himself. "Another day, another guest."

This time, it wasn't just one person. It was Wren, Lysa, Kell, Arl, Munty, Lyle, and Jory all of them together at the same time.

"I was just about to eat," Levi said as he let them in. "Any of you want to join?"

They shook their heads. "We already ate," Wren said.

Levi sighed and motioned them to sit. "Alright then. What brings you all here?"

Arl was the first to speak. "It's about the next caravan. Since the last incident, we've been wondering who's going next? Training has become dull, Some who hasn't went out want to head out. Like you, Lyle, and Jory."

Kell and Munty nodded in agreement.

Kell added, "We've been training, but after losing those 24 men, we need more than drills. We need real experience. There's no war here. No battlefields to harden us. If we don't keep going out, we'll remain nothing more but trained guards."

Lysa chimed in, "It's not just the guards. The caravan workers who went with Wren some of them are shaken. That was the first time anything like that happened since we started the merchant union. They need rest. But we'll also need replacements."

She glanced at Levi. "Your stables are holding over 120 horses now. Some are still recovering from the last journey. We're rotating them, but we'll need more."

Jory added, "The current caravan guards need time off too. They're not afraid but it's taking a toll. Body and mind. They need rest."

Wren nodded. "Big caravans are great, but after what happened, no one wants to be on one unless it's for a major event. We'll need smaller ones again. Smaller caravans mean less experienced guards, and no matter how well-trained they are, that inexperience could be deadly."

Lyle spoke last. "Especially when guarding the rear. There need to be clear orders. Every man needs to know how to respond to command, fast and without hesitation or confusion."

Levi listened carefully to every word. Then he leaned back in his seat.

"I understand," he said. "Then let's change how we do things."

Everyone quieted.

"Among the 300 total guards," Levi continued, "all of them should gain experience, bit by bit. Instead of having 200 stay to guard the town, let them rotate. The first 100 who serve as caravan guards will switch out with the next 100 after their journey. Then the next 100 will rotate in."

He looked around at the group. "For smaller caravans, each should have at least 20 guards, enough to defend what they carry. Kell, Arl, Munty, Lyle and Jory, you'll begin rotating as caravan leaders. Learn to lead, and each of you must pick one companion who can give orders when you can't."

He tapped the table for emphasis. "Every group of 20 needs one clear leader. If the caravan grows to 50 guards, assign two: one in front, one in the rear. For caravans of 100, assign three leaders but all must follow the first. One at the front, one in the center, one at the rear."

"As for the workers hire more. Let those who went before rest."

He glanced toward Lysa. "And buy more horses. Add them to the stables."

He gave a final nod. "We'll adjust as we go. Trial and error. We'll learn what works."

Everyone was quiet for a breath, then nodded.

Lyle smiled. "Understood. We'll get it done."

They all stood and left together, encouraged by the clarity Levi had given them.

Finally, Levi heard his stomach growl. He returned to the kitchen and began preparing his meal—lizard meat, melted cheese, and hard bread with onions and a drizzle of honey. He poured a cup of swampberry juice, the deep purple hue catching the morning light.

Just as he sat down—another knock.

He sighed, muttering, "Can't I eat in peace?"

Opening the door, he found the old Maester and Timor waiting. The Old Maester held three sealed jars, while Timor carried something wrapped in cloth.

"Have you eaten?" Levi asked, stepping aside.

"Not yet," Timor said. "But we'd be glad to."

Levi prepared more food and served them. They ate quietly together. When they were done, Timor stood and unwrapped what he'd brought.

"I made this while you were away," he said. "Even before you tasked us with forging a sword. I think it's my finest work."

He drew one of the swords. The blade shimmered in the light. Clean, Balanced, Sharp. Levi took the hilt and tested its weight. It moved like it belonged in his hand.

"You've outdone yourself, Timor," Levi said. "Truly a masterpiece of Bogwater's craftsmanship."

Timor gave a satisfied smile. "Now that I've delivered it, I'll go back to the forge. There's more to make."

He bowed slightly and left, leaving Levi with the old Maester.

The Old Maester lifted the three jars and set them on the table. Levi leaned in, curious.

"You best be careful with these," the old Maester warned. "Throw this into a well, and the water will remain poisoned for a long time. These contain Ghost Kiss."

He uncorked one slightly, and a floral scent drifted up. It was deceptively sweet.

"It smells like flowers," Levi said.

"Aye," the Maester said. "Most won't notice until it's too late."

He set the jar down. "One more thing. You asked about the town's numbers. With 1,000 homes, I counted roughly 1,999 people living in Bogwater proper. Some houses remain empty. Some folk live just outside the walls. Villagers from the outskirts are not included."

Levi nodded. "That's good. If I ever need more men, I'll know where to look."

He stared at the jars. "If anyone hurts my people... then we'll fight, yes. But we'll also be smart. Fewer men need to die if we prepare right. I'll speak to Killi. He can make some arrows suitable with this poison."

The Maester raised an eyebrow. "You're becoming someone people should fear, Levi. But remember my time is fading. Noble houses gather allies. You still fight alone."

Levi leaned back. "I know. There's no battlefield I can join right now. And I've spent these years building."

He paused.

"But maybe... if the King's madness worsens, if he starts burning noble houses, there'll be a war. And then... maybe then, I'll have my chance."

He looked at his hands. "I'm not strong enough to beat southern knights. And no southern lord will noticed me. I'm not worthy of a knighthood, not by their standards. But I do have 300 men ready to march when the time is right."

The old Maester gave a tired smile. "I hope I'm still alive when your time comes."

Levi looked at him. "Can you tell me your story?"

The old man shook his head. "Not yet. If fate is kind, I'll share it before my time runs out. But not today."

He rose and left.

Levi sat for a long while, wondering. What drove that old man to settle in Bogwater, back when it was nothing but mud and reeds?

Later that day, he found Killi and showed him one of the jars.

"I'll need suitable arrows coated with this poison, I call them Ghost kiss" Levi said.

Killi nodded. "What kind? I'll experiment and see what works best."

"Do what you can," Levi replied.

Afterward, Levi climbed one of the towers overlooking Bogwater. From up high, the town seemed peaceful, strong even beautiful.

He took a breath, then smiled to himself.

"The elevator to success is out of order. You'll have to take the stairs... one step at a time."