As time slipped by, the weather grew colder, and white frost coated the grass on the hillside each morning.
With the villagers and mercenaries working together, Allen's hillside camp gradually took shape, with a two-meter-wide ditch, dense rows of sharpened wooden stakes, and walls over two meters high, with a deep drop outside and a shallower one within.
Its defenses could never compare to the towering walls of Hrus Castle, but they were more than enough to fend off raids by small enemy forces.
To ensure a clear view, Allen also built a watchtower on each side of the hillside. To the east, he could see most of what lay beyond Hrus Castle; to the west, he could watch the forest below and the hidden mountain trail.
The enemy, however, showed little sign of activity, as though they had no particular interest in Hrus Castle.
There were no large troop concentrations, and even small scouting parties were scarce. Allen had not killed any of the Dark Cult's light cavalry for half a month.
Normally, whenever those mounted scouts dressed entirely in black came into view, Allen would fly over without hesitation and kill them with a single slash. Gradually, fewer and fewer riders dared to scout the area.
Yet although the enemy had made no troubling moves, King Ragnar sent messengers twice in succession with bad news serious enough to shake the army's morale.
The first message reported signs of a large enemy force near Jelborg Castle. The army Ragnar had mustered in Sargoth had to be sent there as reinforcements, making any talk of a counteroffensive a joke.
Holding their ground, trading lives and territory for time, and praying to gods who might not even exist to grant the Kingdom of the Nords a change in fortune-that was all