***
The two days bled into each other, a peaceful rhythm settling over the tiny village nestled before the pine-cloaked slopes. Today was the 35th day of summer of the year 977, and Gresvin was about to welcome another recruit into his ranks.
The last two days were relatively straightforward. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, and the village continued on with its daily routine. Gresvin ventured into the woods on both mornings when the dew was still on the grass.
He brought his equipment with him; his hunting bow was slung over his shoulders, and his iron spatha sword hung at his waist. The sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, dappling the forest floor in a mosaic of light and shadow. The scent of pine mingled with the earthy aroma of damp soil from last night's light rain.
During one of his hunts, he had stalked one of the wood's most abundant inhabitants - red-spotted deer.
Meanwhile, the eight Imperial recruits had been sparring more frequently than before, and under Marcus' guidance and stern gaze, the warriors kept themselves busy with various battle sequences and drills.
On the first day, the training was somewhat chaotic when Marcus took command, and they started to practice drills. Marcus seemed quite adamant that the recruits parry and block more efficiently than any other style. It seemed his battle with Gresvin had inspired him to learn how to defend efficiently without wasting too much energy.
As the warriors sparred and kept watch over the village, the villagers toiled away in the small field beyond the village square. Every villager, young and old, man and woman, pitched in to help.
The men took care of the harder, more gritty groundwork while the Women in simple sundresses weeded rows of vegetables and took care of the other newly grown sprouts. The village had planted two crops in the form of barley and wheat around two weeks prior. Due to the rather unsatisfactory weather over the last few weeks, the two crops took longer to sprout; they had only made themselves visible the day before.
When dusk painted the sky in fiery hues, the villagers congregated around a crackling bonfire in the center of the square, like they always had. The villagers told stories or tales, gossiped and sang, danced, and laughed around the fire.
One night, a wizened old woman took her time to tell a tale. Her voice was raspy due to age but still held a captivating lilt. She told a tale of a time when a specific part of the plains was alive with wildflowers, their vibrant colors stretching as far as the eye could see. Her tale had enamored all, and no one could keep their attention off her as she continued.
The wizened woman's tale was only but one of the wondrous and mesmerizing tales that had been spoken.
***
Gresvin had woken up early in the morning, and he had already completed his hunt and training session in the woods when he came walking down the hill toward the cabins. There, he spotted a man dressed in somewhat the same manner as the Imperial recruits.
Gresvin was surprised for a moment as he did not know this stranger, but he quickly understood, 'The new recruit!' he happily smiled. Gresvin made his way over, and before he could introduce himself, the recruit bowed and saluted, "Greetings my Lord."
Gresvin was taken aback and could only give a helpless sigh. 'I guess that's one perk of having a system. They know of me even before we are introduced.'
"Morning." He greeted him in return, "What's your name?"
Gresvin observed the man closely. The man was middle-aged, with a towering height and broad shoulders. His hair was short, iron gray, with a few specks of white in between. His face was full of weathered lines, but it could not contain his rough but stoic look, which was complemented by his piercing blue eyes and salt-and-pepper-trimmed beard.
"Arlo Thorne, my Lord," the man answered in a low but gravelly voice. 'Mm?' Gresvin was surprised by the rather curt reply but shook his head lightly and spoke, "Welcome to Coedwig Arlo."
Arlo nodded in thanks. 'The silent type huh?' Gresvin realized that Arlo did not speak much, and as he continued to introduce the village of Coedwig to Arlo, that thought was cemented.
Arlo had hardly spoken up, even when he met Marcus. He greeted Marcus with a nod and nothing else, which led to a rather strange yet somewhat awkward situation. As such, the two men did not linger too much, and Gresvin continued to introduce Arlo to the other warriors and villagers.
After a quick tour of the village, Arlo settled in one of the vacant cabins.
Gresvin, on the other hand, went to meet up with Marcus as they were about to have a sparring match. After the first day of sparring, both Gresvin and Marcus' skills had yet to upgrade again, but Gresvin was not disappointed by such developments. He knew it would take a while longer for them to advance.
But even though the two men did not have an upgrade in skill, the other warriors seemed to have varying degrees of success. When Gresvin realized what the skill section meant on the system window, he looked at each recruit individually; each recruit had a different amount of skill.
After two days, many of them had advanced their skills by one level, and some even made two advances.
The warriors' development was a good thing, and their advancements brought a smile to Gresvin's face. As Gresvin made his way toward the training area, he could not help but recall the information he had gotten regarding the new recruit.
Gresvin was given quite a pleasant surprise when he saw that Arlo's swordsmanship was at level 7, almost at the same level as Gresvin, one level higher than even Marcus.
With that being the case, Gresvin wanted to talk with Marcus about Arlo. Marcus was already the designated commander of the imperial recruits, and Gresvin had no intention of changing that.