As the group prepared for the coming assault, the weight of the task ahead settled over them. Mori sat by the window, her fingers tracing the string of her bow. She thought of the townsfolk—their weary faces, their stolen livelihoods—and felt a surge of determination.

  “We’re doing the right thing,” she murmured to herself.

  Across the room, Neres cleaned his daggers with meticulous care. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a steely focus.

  Boreas stood near the hearth, staring into the flames. He didn’t speak, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes.

  Midas approached him, his voice low. “This isn’t just about the mayor anymore. You know that, right?”

  Boreas nodded. “I know. But it’s a start.”

  Midas placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll make it count.”

  As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the group steeled themselves for what lay ahead.

  -------

  The sun was setting over Dawncrest, painting the sky in hues of orange and gold. As the town’s shadows stretched long, Midas and his companions made their way to the outskirts. The old outpost loomed in the distance, a silhouette against the darkening sky.

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  They had spent the day preparing, gathering supplies, sharpening weapons, and finalizing their plan. Midas stood at the head of the group, his expression calm but intense. He glanced at each of his companions in turn—Boreas, standing tall and resolute with Warden’s Fang strapped to his side; Mori, her bow slung across her back, her eyes sharp and determined; Neres, grinning faintly as he twirled a dagger in his hand.

  “Remember,” Midas said, his voice low but commanding, “this isn’t a siege. We’re in and out before they can react. Neres, you create the distractions. Mori, pick off anyone who looks like they’re raising an alarm. Boreas, you and I will handle the bulk of the guards inside.”

  “And if they see us too soon?” Neres asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “They won’t,” Midas said firmly.

  Mori smirked. “That’s a lot of confidence.”

  “It’s not confidence,” Midas replied. “It’s necessity.”

  The group moved silently through the foothills, their steps muffled by the soft earth. As they neared the outpost, the sound of voices and clinking metal grew louder. The guards were relaxed, their movements casual—clearly, they weren’t expecting an attack.

  Mori and Neres split off first, vanishing into the shadows. Mori climbed onto a rocky outcropping that gave her a clear view of the outpost’s entrance, while Neres slipped around the perimeter, his movements almost unnaturally silent thanks to Hermes’ Steps.

  Boreas and Midas waited in the underbrush, watching and listening.

  “How many do you count?” Boreas murmured.

  “Ten outside,” Midas replied. “Probably double that inside.”

  “Sounds manageable.”

  Midas smirked. “For us, maybe. Let’s give them a reason to regret signing up for this.”