The Devouring Knight-Chapter 81 - 80: Flame, Stone, and Steel

The smoke had settled. The forest, once echoing with screams and steel, now held only the crackle of fire and the whisper of wind.

Lumberling stood in silence beside a low ridge, overlooking the clearing where they had gathered the fallen.

Seven boars and their riders.

Four archers.

Twelve from the hunter units.

Five from the militia.

The wolves had taken wounds, slashes, burns, but none had died. Shade sat coiled in shadow, one eye watching the pyres.

The elite squads had held. Injured, bruised, bloodied, but not broken. No deaths.

A hard-earned blessing.

Krivex stepped beside him, holding a folded strip of bark parchment.

"Names of the dead," he said quietly.

Lumberling took it, fingers brushing the inked lines with care. "We’ll carve them into stone when we get back."

"And burn them here?" Skitz asked, approaching with a torch.

"Yes," Lumberling replied.

Together, they turned to the pyres.

The bodies had been laid out in neat rows, armor and weapons removed for salvage. Each was covered with a cloth dyed in forest green, field markers sewn by the village seamstress long ago, just in case they were ever needed.

One by one, the captains stepped forward, lighting the edges.

Fire took hold, slow and hungry.

The scent of burning wood and flesh filled the clearing.

Some bowed their heads.

Others stood at attention.

Shade, still weak but upright, watched from the edge of the trees, its eyes reflecting the flames like twin shards of obsidian. A leg twitched, as if offering a salute.

Krivex stood silently, then murmured, "This was no monster horde we fought."

Lumberling didn’t respond at first. His eyes stayed fixed on the flames.

Skitz broke the silence next. "I’ve fought beasts, bandits, but soldiers? Soldiers are different."

"They move with formation," Aren added, arms crossed. "They rotate injured. Defend. Support. One covers the other."

"And with that armor," Gobo2 said quietly, "they’re not easy to kill."

Lumberling finally spoke.

"We fought monsters before. But monsters lash out. These... they pressed forward. Took orders. Covered retreats. Not just brute strength, discipline."

He turned to face the group, voice low but firm.

"And yet, we held."

He swept his gaze across them all, the captains, vice-captains, hunters, even the wounded.

"We trained them for this. And they stood their ground."

A beat passed.

Skitz chuckled under his breath. "Damn right they did."

Krivex nodded. "It wasn’t clean. But we held our own."

"No," Lumberling said. "We did more than that. We proved we belong in this war. And we’re not just forest-folk anymore."

His hand fell to the pommel of his spear.

"They’ve faced real soldiers and won."

The pyres roared higher behind him, fire lighting the dusk.

"They paid in blood," he continued. "So we move forward in memory. And we grow. Stronger. Sharper. Together."

The soldiers stood a little straighter.

The captains bowed their heads.

Even the wind stilled.

Lumberling looked back at the pyres, at the darkened outlines of two bodies that didn’t burn with the others.

The noble boy. And the knight who died standing.

He’d buried them apart, but not far. That was the compromise.

His grip on the spear tightened, just for a moment.

Not regret. But something close.

He’d struck to protect the village. He’d struck without hesitation. But still, something about the old man’s final words had clung to him like smoke.

’I hope the world breaks before you do.’

Lumberling blinked the memory away. No time for echoes.

"Gather the gear," he said quietly. "We move at first light."

.....

They looted what they could: swords, armor, crossbows, rations. Sixty horses, saddled and scarred, were corralled and tethered. The goblins led them in clusters, keeping them quiet.

Then, without ceremony, they burned the bodies of the fallen Sengolio soldiers.

Shade was wrapped carefully in thick cloth and carried atop a wide wooden stretcher, supported by the evolved boars. Even in its weakened state, the spider hissed and twitched at every jostle, but did not lash out.

The march home was quiet.

There was no victory chant. No drunken cheering.

Just purpose. Silent and unspoken.

They had won, yes. But what they saw, and what they now knew, was heavier than any triumph.

Aren walked at the edge of the group, his spear used more as a cane than a weapon.

He wasn’t limping. But he wasn’t walking tall either. His left shoulder bore a half-healed burn that pulsed with every heartbeat.

"Should’ve rotated earlier," he muttered to himself. "Should’ve seen that ambush."

No one answered.

Just ahead, Gobo1 and Gobo2 marched in silence, for once without their usual banter.

Gobo2 glanced at the pyres still faintly visible behind the trees.

"They were green," he said quietly. "The militia kids. Still learning how to grip a blade."

Gobo1 said nothing.

But he hadn’t cleaned his shield. Blood still dried across its edge.

....

Later, in the war room beneath the central hall.

The captains gathered around the map table. Oil lanterns cast long shadows on the canvas of the land. Red and green markers dotted the forest, rivers, and mountain passes. Armor clinked as they settled into place.

Lumberling stood at the head of the table, hands braced on the worn wood. Shade rested in the chamber beside them, still breathing. Still alive.

"I have something to talk to you all about," he began.

The room fell silent.

Krivex leaned forward. Skitz crossed his arms. Grokk stood tall by the doorway, a silent wall of muscle. Even Gobo1 and Gobo2, usually a bit more casual, were alert, eyes sharp.

Lumberling’s tone hardened.

"Threats are pressing in on every side. The monsters from the Deep Forest are growing bolder. We’ve seen migratory beasts straying from their domains. And lurking by the river... a hundred lizardmen.

He paused.

"And now... we’re officially tangled in the war between empires."

Murmurs passed among the captains.

Skarn’s expression darkened. "We’ve avoided their conflict for years."

"And we can’t hide anymore," Lumberling said. "One Knight, just one true Knight, could wipe out this entire village. Maybe we could fight off one... but what if there’s more than one?"

Everyone fell silent at that.

They all knew it was true.

"We’ve grown stronger. Our people are trained. But it’s not enough. That’s why we’re moving forward with the next phase."

He pointed to the map.

"The second base, deep in the Blackroot Forest, construction resumes immediately. It’ll be hidden, reinforced, and built for training, survival, and growth. No more waiting."

Krivex gave a slow nod. "We’ll get it done."

"There’s more," Lumberling continued. "We need eyes outside. We need to know what’s happening in the empire, who’s moving, where the armies are shifting, what rumors are rising. But we’re not sending spies."

He smiled faintly.

"We’re starting a mercenary group."

Skitz’s grin widened. "Now that’s more my style."

Lumberling gestured at the captains.

"We won’t just blend in, we’ll earn coin and gain access to places we couldn’t before. Inns. Military outposts. Noble caravans. If we play it right, we’ll be invisible in plain sight."

Gobo2 scratched his chin. "So we’re dividing the group?"

"Yes," Lumberling said. "We’ll move in three formations."

He turned to Krivex. "You’ll lead the construction of the new base. Gobo1, Gobo2, Vakk, and Takkarn will go with you. Prioritize concealment, layered defenses, and rotating training cycles."

Krivex gave a crisp nod. "Consider it done."

Lumberling turned next. "Grokk, you’ll stay and guard the village."

Grokk thumped a fist to his chest. "No one touches this village while I breathe."

"Skarn, you’ll stay as well," Lumberling continued. "Oversee local defenses and supply management. If Krivex requests reinforcements, you’ll be the one to respond."

"And as for me," Lumberling said, his gaze sweeping across the room, "I’ll lead the mercenary group. Skitz, Aren, and the elite squads will come with me. We’ll establish our first front along the southern trade route."

He gave a final glance at Skarn. "And if we ever call for backup, you’ll know what to do."

Krivex frowned. "That’s a big move, my Lord. It’s risky."

"I know," Lumberling said quietly. "But war’s already come knocking. This time we knock back, prepared, informed, and armored."

"And if Knights and soldiers comes knocking again?" Skarn suddenly said. His voice was quiet, but firm. "What happens to our village then, my Lord? If we’re split across the forest, we won’t be able to regroup fast enough."

Grokk growled softly. "Let them try. They’ll find iron waiting."

"No," Skarn snapped. "I’m not questioning the fight. I’m questioning our odds."

A beat passed.

Lumberling didn’t respond immediately. He looked at the map, then at Shade’s resting place in the chamber nearby.

"We don’t win by hiding," he said finally. "And we don’t grow by standing still."

"But we lost people," Gobo1 muttered. "A lot of people. We burned our friends yesterday. And now we’re splitting up?"

Krivex placed a hand on his shoulder. "We’re not breaking apart. We’re expanding. We’ll stay in contact. This is how we survive, by not being cornered again."

"I get that," Gobo2 added, raising a hand lazily. "But if you send me into the Deep Forest again, I’m demanding triple rations. And a hammock. A good one this time."

A few chuckles slipped through the room. Even Grokk cracked a rare grin.

Skitz leaned forward, flipping a dagger between his fingers. "We’re not ready for what’s coming. But we can’t wait until we are. We move while we still have blood in our veins."

Lumberling nodded slowly, absorbing all of it. Then he straightened.

"We’re not marching blind. Every step is part of something bigger. We’ll build. Watch. Learn. And if another army comes..." He looked directly at Skarn. "We’ll be ready."

He turned to Skitz.

"Start sorting through the looted armor," Lumberling ordered. "I want every piece cleaned, repaired, and refitted to our soldiers. If we’re going to pass as mercenaries, we need to look the part."

He glanced toward the stables. "Also, begin mounted training with the elite squads. I want them comfortable in the saddle and capable in battle before we depart."

"And the name?" Skitz asked.

Lumberling gave a wry smile.

"I’ll think of one," he said. "Something fitting."

The room held still for a breath.

Then Krivex spoke. "You’re not just building an army."

"No," Lumberling said. "I’m building a future."

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