Tensions simmered throughout the fortress over the next two days as preparations intensified for the looming Challenge. Everywhere I looked, faces were grim, voices strained, with even the Wallowhackers seeming noticeably quieter, their usual bravado tempered by anticipation. The conscripted prisoners were faring worse, visibly drained and hopeless as they endured harsh drills designed to give them a semblance of competence with spears.

I watched carefully from the battlements as the prisoners below endured their training. Well, at least what the Wallowhackers called training. It was minimal and grimly straightforward. The conscripts were lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, drilled over and over in basic spear thrusts, and repeatedly forced to brace in tightly packed phalanx formations. It was an utterly rudimentary tactic, clearly designed with no intention beyond briefly delaying the invaders' charge, made worse by the obvious lack of cohesion displayed by the prisoners.

The absence of shields was glaring, leaving the conscripts entirely exposed. Normally, even basic infantry received something—a wooden buckler at least—but these men stood defenceless, clutching their spears with white-knuckled desperation. Their training seemed to consist mostly of learning how to hold a line without panicking and stabbing wildly at invisible foes. The Wallowhacker instructors shouted at them, driving them hard but without real expectation. It felt less like training soldiers and more like herding cattle toward slaughter. I got the impression the instructors cared more about instructions being followed than the results of the work.

"It's going to be worse than ever," Tom murmured darkly, watching the desperate drills below.

"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He nodded towards the group of prisoners, sweating and straining beneath the relentless commands of their overseers. "They're not even pretending this time. They're just meat shields."

I raised an eyebrow, confused by the surprise in his voice. "Isn't that what always happens? What else do you do with prison conscripts?"

He shook his head, his expression grim. "No. Usually, there's at least a pretense of training. They teach formations, proper spear work, even shield techniques if you're lucky. You're still disposable, but at least you have a chance of making it through. But this… It isn't even trying to keep them alive. I don't get it. They're all going to die."

"You mean conscripts normally get more than this?" I asked, a bit taken aback. If that was the case, I could see what Tom was talking about.

He nodded gravely. "Usually we're used for retrieval, not as human barricades."

"Retrieval?" It was a term I hadn't come across, at least not in the context of Challenge battle.

Tom sighed deeply. "It's a nasty job. One they never mention in the official stories or school lessons. You see all those black orchids out there? Demon's Bane?"

"Yeah, everyone knows how vital they are."

He gestured out towards the field, his eyes weary. "They're key to our defence, numbing the initial waves of attackers. But their potency fades after three or four days, less if the bodies pile up too quickly. Corpses block the flowers and waste their pollen on dead flesh, letting the later waves pass through unharmed because they either run straight through, or use their dead as barriers. Retrieval is sending men like us out there to pull those corpses back behind the lines and clear the flowers."

My stomach churned at the idea. "They send you into the field mid-battle just to move bodies?"

"Yeah," Tom said bitterly. "And it's worse than it sounds. Dragging corpses back, stepping over friends who fell trying the same thing moments earlier, all while fresh waves of monsters are coming at you. It's pure madness, but vital. If we don't clear the field, the flowers fail and the fortress falls."

"Why haven't I ever heard of this before? Shouldn't everyone know how critical that job is?"

He scoffed bitterly. "You think the crown wants people knowing that's how conscripts get used? People already resist the draft. If everyone knew what retrieval really meant, they'd fight tooth and nail not to show up, consequences be damned. It's easier to hide it. Those who survive don't exactly brag about what they went through, and the crown keeps it quiet because it'd cause problems. Problems they'd solve but still, it's better they don't appear."

After talking with Tom, I paid closer attention to the soldiers around me, eavesdropping whenever possible. Slowly, I managed to piece together more details of the overall defensive strategy. The soldiers spoke candidly, uncaring of listening ears, confident that nothing they would say would change the planned events. Two in particular were enlightening.

"What's the boss got planned?" I overheard one ask his companion as Tom and I worked.

"He wants the prisoners at the front, the spearhead of the group," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You're puns aren't funny," the man scoffed back, earning a chuckle from his friend. "Obviously I know they're in the front. Why are they only getting spears though? Aren't they all just going to die?"

"So?" I heard the sound of a stone hitting a rock, and a quick glance showed they'd stopped to throw some stones at a small boulder out in the fields.

"So then we'll be in the shit quicker?" The first man explained, exasperated. "We're in the second layer with the conscripts you idiot."

"We'll be behind the conscripts anyway. Let them do their duty and thin the herds."

"I'd rather the prisoners do that as well—oh good throw—but that's not going to happen if they all die on the first day."

"What do you want me to say? I'm in the second layer with you. We're not exactly in the know otherwise we'd be back with the others. We both know fuck all."

"Yeah but you're friends with Johnny, and he's an elite so he'll be clued in."

The second man let out a long suffering sigh. "Look Dave, I don't know. All I've heard is that the boss wasn't happy with how many survived last time and he wants to make sure more die in this one. It's something to do with the prison and before you ask, I don't know what."

"I just don't get why we can't be in the third layer with the others," Dave moaned, his voice followed up by more stones hitting the boulder. I was quietly impressed at their skill given the range and made a note to see if I could hit it when they left.

"They need some Wallowhackers in the second layer to keep things steady. These conscripts haven't seen action before and barely have training. Do you think they'd have a chance without some experience around them?"

"Can you not ask Johnny if we can stay with him back in the fort? The elites won't even see any action until the fourth day, and that will just be them throwing things from the safety of the walls. That's something we can do. Look at our throws here! I bet we could throw a stone further than anyone else," Dave pleaded.

"You know it's not going to be the same. We can't kill anything with these tiny stones. Besides, we'd still have to sally out with the others on day six. Don't want any of those fucks to still be here when the Challenge ends."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"That's fine!" Dave readily agreed, "I'm not a coward. I'm happy to fight. I just don't want to be at the front with only conscripts to back me up."

"Whoa, I'd be there to back you up."

Dave tutted. "You know what I mean. Come on," he begged. "Ask Johnny. I bet he says yes."

"Argh, fine! But don't blame me if he says no."

"Did you hear that," I asked Tom, who was furiously shuffling blocks about as we neared the end of our repair job.

"Hear what?" He asked gruffly.

"Those soldiers then. They said that Sebastian wants prisoners to die. He said not enough died last time and he wants to make sure it's different now." Tom didn't stop working as I spoke, either he was ignoring me or what I said hadn't registered properly. "He said it's something to do with Achrane."

That got him to momentarily falter but just as quickly he got back to moving again.

"Who knows why he does things but if you don't want to be one of them, you should crack on," he gave me a pointed look because I'd been stationary for a while. "We've made good progress, don't set us back now."

"Fine," I grumbled. "It is weird though. He's up to something."

Between soldiers gossiping in the canteen and talking when they were doing their rounds on the walls, I eventually got a better picture of what the plan was for dealing with the Challenge.

As I heard from Dave and his friend, the first layer would be the prison conscripts. They were tasked with meeting the initial enemy assault beyond the walls, in the field of black orchids. The flowers, Demon's Bane, were pivotal to the strategy. Their powerful numbing effect was an invaluable asset, allowing even untrained conscripts to kill slowed or immobilised invaders. Not that they put much stock in the amount of kills the prisoners would rack up but it would still make it easier for everyone else. It was a grim, efficient method designed to thin enemy ranks through attrition. The prisoners were chosen to meet them because they would be in the most danger. Nobody else had spoken about the reasons for essentially killing the prisoners so I wasn't sure why Sebastian had chosen this route.

The second layer of defence would be made up of the conscripts and some Wallowhackers. Their purpose was to reinforce or replace the front lines, holding firm if—or rather, when—the prisoners inevitably faltered. They'd push forward aggressively whenever the invaders were sufficiently weakened by the orchids and prison conscripts to get good kills and thin out the attack. With their training, they would be able to put up a decent defence against the horde.

Finally, the third and strongest line would be the main body of Wallowhackers themselves. These troops would switch out with people in the second layer as needed and act as a fresh reinforcement to any key areas but would be kept fresh. This group would include Sebastian and his elite warriors but they would stay primarily behind the walls, observing carefully and only deploying if the other lines were overwhelmed. They'd act as the final line, swift and brutal in their response, eliminating any monsters or demons that threatened to break through to the fortress itself.

Whispers from the soldiers made Sebastian and his inner circle sound like vengeful gods descending upon the battlefield. When they finally entered the fight, it wasn't merely a turning point; it was usually annihilation for that portion of the enemy. I overheard awe-filled conversations describing how they swept through ranks of monsters and demons with terrifying efficiency, leaving behind nothing but carnage.

"When Sebastian gets involved," a young soldier had said, "it's like a force of nature. Bodies everywhere. I've seen demons run from him."

An older man had scoffed at the youngster's nervousness, but even he couldn't hide a faint shudder. "He's ruthless, that's for sure. Saw him take down an entire section single-handed last year. Bastard didn't even blink. I swear he gets stronger each year."

It made me wonder what we would see if he got involved this time. Not that I was planning to stick around to find out. My hope was that I would be long gone before the battle got to the point of needing his intervention.

From the ongoing discussions I'd pieced together, the first three or four days relied heavily on the conscripts and the numbing power of the Demon's Bane orchids. The plan was brutal but clear: let the invaders exhaust themselves on expendable bodies and the orchids' paralysing effects. Each layer of defence was expected to sacrifice themselves to hold the enemy at bay, gradually reducing the attackers' numbers until their momentum slowed.

After the initial phase, the soldiers would strategically withdraw behind the fortified walls, transitioning to ranged combat. The fortress's archers and ballista operators were prepared for a prolonged siege, aiming to further deplete the invaders' forces. The commanders anticipated two or three tense days, firing arrows and heavy bolts relentlessly into waves of increasingly demons or monsters, preventing them from breaching the walls as they delayed for time.

Finally, as the siege stretched on, Sebastian himself would lead the final push from within the fortress walls. This carefully timed charge was crucial to force the surviving invaders back toward the Fracture. There was a fear among the soldiers that if the monsters remained too far from their entry point when the Challenge ended, some wouldn't retreat, leaving a lingering threat in Radan itself.

The conversation between the old man and the younger soldier had confirmed it for me earlier.

"Did they not tell you this last time? We have to drive them back," I heard the older man say. "If even a handful remain behind, they become a right pain to deal with. They won't vanish with the Fracture closing like the stories say. Not unless they're within range of it when it happens."

"So we sally out to force them into range?" The younger had said, piecing it together.

"That's right. We need to shepherd them back into the fields so that they leave with the rest of their scummy kind. If we don't, we'll have to hunt them down. And trust me," the man said in a serious tone. "We don't want that. Years back I was there when some got through the walls, and the king made us hunt them down all through Radan. It took us months! They didn't even pay us extra for it either because they said it was our fault."

"What?! Months of unpaid work? That's not fair!" The younger one complained.

"That's why we need to make sure the charge is effective. So don't be slacking," he warned. "Talking of slacking, let's get back to the rounds. We've been nattering long enough."

"There. Done." Tom said as he finished with the final section of the wall.

We had worked hard to get it done in time and finally finished just after sundown.

"Told you we'd get it finished," I told him as I put an arm around his shoulders. "It was never in doubt with how you were working."

He shrugged me off him, a small smile on his face.

"Get off. It needed to be done."

"Yes, it did," Sebastian's voice suddenly appeared from the side. "I must say, it is excellent timing. I was just on my way to talk to you."

He looked at Tom the entire time he spoke, a creepy smile upon his face.

"What? No greeting?" He said after a second without a response.

"S-sorry Sebastian. H-hello," Tom stammered.

I could see Tom physically stop himself from recoiling as Sebastian reached up and stroked a finger along his cheek.

"That's better. It would not do to be impolite at this stage of our friendship. But enough of the pleasantries," he said as he removed his hand. "A lot to do before the fun tomorrow so I simply cannot stay… despite how tempting it is."

The man was positively leering at Tom, sending shivers through my body.

"Now that you have repaired the main part of the wall, I expect you to be ensuring it is maintained. That means running your little legs around our beautiful fort looking for any urgent problems. Do you think you can handle that?" He asked with a pointed look at the leg Tom limped with, causing the man himself to hunch as if he could hide it.

"Yeah, we can handle it," I said.

"I was asking Tom," Sebastian responded coolly, the smile leaving his face.

"Y-yes, we'll be okay."

"Good," Sebastian said. "We are going to have to place our trust in you, you see. You will have freedom to run about the place without the supervision you have enjoyed so far, so I hope you do not get any… ideas."

Tom flicked his eyes to me and I did my best to keep my face straight.

"N-no need to worry. You can trust us."

"Can I Tom? Can I trust you?" He leaned in close to Tom's face, staring deep into his eyes.

"Y-yes s-sir. I-I'll g-g-get it done," Tom responded, visibly shaking now.

"Good. Good. In that case, I will leave you to it. A big day tomorrow after all."

"Y-yes. A big day."

With that our final day before the Fracture opened and the Challenge began, ended. All that was left was to get a good night's rest so that we were prepared for what was to come. For Tom that meant running about fixing things, and for me, it meant finally escaping.

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