Justinian felt dozens of pulse messages rippling through the town, relaying what had just occurred, and he could tell who they belonged to by the emotions they contained without deciphering their contents. The messages for the Basetown legionaries were precise and to the point about the sighting, carrying the feelings of resigned acceptance. The mercenaries were surprised but professional… and a little excited.

The last group, and by far the most frantic, were the pulse messages of the local thugs, who some called legionaries. The commanders of the civic centuries did not believe the sightings. While the other groups were preparing themselves for potential combat, the last was repeatedly asking for confirmation and issuing threats of what would happen if they were lying.

Justinian wanted to say he was appalled by their actions. He wanted to say he was shocked that a lord within the north would allow such blatant disregard for combat psy usage within his men that they would have an argument where anyone who served in the legion could pick out the contents... As if it wasn't a mandatory step in Olimpian life. It was only the latest example in a long line of mistakes.

At this moment, the citizens needed to be reassured by their leaders as they took decisive actions while projecting confidence, especially when they didn't feel the emotions themselves. Hydrophant and those he put into his city guard were doing the exact opposite of that. And Justinian wasn't the least bit surprised, though it did reinforce his decision.

He could not allow an incompetent leader to be at his side unchecked right now, especially one who had shown over the last few days that he was not beneath petty and short-sighted actions. Not with what had occurred to his father within Basetown. True, there were a couple more steps from spiteful self-centeredness to betrayal and treason, but they were along the same path.

As Justinian thoughts spun, reinforcing and justifying his snap decision, Gilbert was not idle either. While the militia was being called to the walls and onto the rooftops to watch for more beastkins, the knight had sent out a call for the Fridgian Knights to gather on them. By the time they had strode to the end of the street, twenty-four of his knights had gathered around them, though about half of them were without their armor, having been resting.

It was... too much. Head turning to look at Gilbert, the high noble ordered, "Keep only five as an honor guard. Send the rest back to their quarters."

"Understood." Turning away, he called out, "Yappino, Gallious, Luxitran, Harkenus, and Disinious, fall in as an honor guard. The rest of you return to your quarters, but be prepared to come should you hear a call for aid." Gilbert took a bit of leeway in delivering Justinian's orders, but it was part of his job. A high noble would be shamed if they ever expressed a need for protection, so the smart ones surrounded themselves with individuals who knew how to take reasonable precautions on their behalf.

Justinian might not have looked around as his head locked straight ahead like his neck couldn't bend. However, nothing escaped his perception sphere. He wasn't close to fully extending it, but the edges were a hundred feet from him in every direction.

He saw inside the homes they passed, watching the citizens who thought they were peaking through their shutters without being seen. A few were bold enough to crack open their door and get a better view of the street, but no one was coming out to watch the troop of knights marching past as they did when Justinian first entered the city. Everyone could feel it wasn't a festive occasion from the oppressive atmosphere overflowing the street.

A part of the high noble felt bad for those they came across who were simply going about their day, something that was happening more often as they moved deeper into the town. By the time most noticed who was approaching, the citizens were already within Justinian's perception sphere and could hardly let out a sound, let alone move. While it wasn't as large or dense as it could be, the high noble's domain was projecting the full force of his displeasure, and everyone inside the sphere felt it and instinctually tried to avoid his attention.

Most people staggered and stumbled to the side to shakily hold themselves up on a wall. The more extreme reactions were those whose heads snapped toward him before they madly broke into a sprint in some other direction. Then there was the group whose minds were overwhelmed with fear, and they fainted, collapsing to the ground, not that Justinian allowed them to hit hard. Regardless of how people dealt with feeling the unrestrained displeasure of a high lord, the result was a tempest that no one could, or wanted to, confront.

But that didn't mean they wouldn't watch the show. Once Justinian had passed and the average citizens had regained their senses, they turned and joined the crowd following in his wake. From where he chose to house himself near the northern wall and on the western mountain of the fort, they were soon on the main road running through the valley and traveling along it.

Word had already spread beyond Justinian's presence about his advance, and people were starting to gather on the side streets, waiting for him to pass before joining the river. With the eyes of thousands on him, Justinian couldn't help but feel a prickling thrill running through his body. How many times had he imagined, as a boy and in more detail as a teenager, standing before a crowd of thousands and having them waiting on his every word, like when his father gave a speech upon the cliffs of Basetown.

Except it wasn't anything like how he thought it would be, not in the location nor in those watching him. Most had expressions of quiet despair and resignation. Their homes had been destroyed or left behind, and now they possessed nothing more than what they could carry on their backs. In their wakes, they left everything that their families had been building up for entire generations. All because they wanted to live, which was a burden unto itself.

Most had dirty, travel-worn clothes and spots of dried dirt covering their faces and arms, as everyone had better things to do than grab a bucket of water or go to the baths. The simple act of being clean was a luxury those present couldn't afford. It made Justinian's blood boil.

Here he had been, present within the city for days, and he had been able to do little more than open up some wells and begin rationing the supplies he had brought. It was far from enough. More than positioning his men on the walls and starting the training of select others, what significant changes has he been able to make for the future defense? The answer was none. The governor was stalling him at every turn.

Hands clenched tightly at his sides, Justinian marched, taking in the suffering of those who would one day be his people. Like most old Olimpian towns and cities, intersections to actual roads and not just a dead end were few and far between. The triple-story stone buildings to either side were designed to act as walls, funneling the beastkin into killing zones. Ironhold took the idea a step further in that there were only three ways to move from one side of the town to the other without flying.

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If you divided the two sides of the eye-shaped city in half, east to west, each of the mountain slopes only contained one zigzagging route running up their sides. There were side streets entering neighborhoods and business districts, but all of them were enclosed with no other exits. You had to climb the mountainside almost to the mountaintop before you were able to wind your way back down.

Needless to say, it was a pain in the ass that no one really liked, and few with any rank would put up with, even back in the chaotic time the city was built in. So, the designers constructed a road right down the town's center, straight as an arrow, and right in the middle, they constructed a fortress that spanned the valley and mountain slopes.

The stronghold wasn't that wide and could almost be considered an oversized wall, but what it lacked in width, it more than made up for in height and length. The bottom floor consisted of a mini labyrinth of passages that could be altered by a Knight Terra. However, Justinian wasn't sure if it had ever been changed back to the original maze after an easy path was bulldozed through. The next couple of levels were — or had initially been — dedicated to military supplies, barracks, and murder holes, but Justinian doubted many of the defenses were still functional or present.

What made him all the more hesitant was that everything was entirely untested, as the walls had never been attacked by beastkin, let alone breached. Now was far from the best time to be testing them out… I guess this is how all the legionaries of the past felt when they manned the walls of all the legendary fortresses for the first time. This fucking sucks.

Marching into the twenty-foot tall and thirty-foot-wide passageway, Justinian traveled half of its length before arriving at a ramp that allowed him to go up to the second floor. Stopping at the end of the ramp after nearly ten minutes of walking, he strode around a corner that turned him around, and Justinian could only sigh as the enclosure ended soon after. What was he expecting? Also, why hadn't he directly visited the governor earlier?

Because the crafty man had met him outside, annoyed him, and made it so that the last place he wanted to be was within the fortress, thus closer together. Instead of putting his men into the quarters here, he claimed one of the abandoned northern garrisons. In hindsight, he should have questioned why the governor came out to meet him, given his personality.

Instead of wrack upon wrack of swords, shields, javelins, bundles of arrows, and compressed stones, to name a few items, Justinian found himself at the entrance to a grand ballroom. The governor, or his forefathers, had even altered the building so this exit came out onto a slightly raised platform, so all the guests lower could see who had arrived. Of course, this side was not quite as high as the one all the way across the room.

Restarting his march, the young noble wasn't surprised to find Governor Hydrophant walking out onto his platform at the far side of the room moments after he stepped onto the long floor. Taking a couple dozen more steps, Justinian stopped, and all of the citizens still following him spread out around the sides of the room, whispering to each other as they watched. No one person was making all that much noise, but the combined effect was a moderate hissing, which made it hard to talk normally.

With Justinian being of a higher rank and all the eyes on them, Hyrophant had no choice but to make the long walk across the room. The governor gave his best effort to put on a haughty and put-upon attitude as he walked for minutes, but by the end, the increasing level of silence and the clacking of his shoes were clearly starting to wear on him.

Coming to a stop, the older man bowed slightly and put his best approximation of a cordial smile onto his face. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Lord Fridgia."

Ohh? So now I am Lord Fridgia. How the situation changes his words. "I would hope you are aware of the recent sighting of beastkin just north of the walls?"

The man couldn't stop his face from scrunching up in annoyance for the briefest moment, but it quickly shifted to a condescending sneer that Justinian thought was his regular expression. "Of course, of course. I received news right before I was told of your impending arrival, though I can hardly say that the words of a few peasants can be taken as fact. I will, of course, be sending some of my men north to verify the veracity of the news. Of course, you, or some of your men, will be welcome to join them."

Justinian raised an eyebrow in surprise at the man's audacity as he was still attempting to control the situation. "No," Justinian simply stated.

"Oh, come now, My Boy, do not go getting worked up over nothing. We all know what supposedly happened to Basetown, but given how long it has been, we can assume it has passed us by. A common occurrence in this part of the realm. To take any action now would be an overreaction."

The man tried to hide his annoyance at having to all but plead to Justinian, but it came through nonetheless. "Perhaps, but this should not be your greatest concern." The governor quirked an amused eyebrow as if he were looking at a child who thought he was clever by hiding a broken vase behind his back. "As the scion of House Fridgia and the lawful representative of my father in his absence, I call upon Governor Hippia Hyropahta to fulfill the terms of his duty. With a clear and present danger outside the walls, he is to supply the legions' worth of gear stored within Ironhold to outfit a militia until proper aid arrives and relieves us."

What little blood in the gaunt man's body fled his face, and he broke out in a sweat. "I-I-I-I can— I mean, you will have to give me some time to fulfill the request." Gone was the arrogant noble looking down on a young man he thought to push around. In his place was a sweaty puddle, frantically searching for a crack to escape his predicament.

"Yes…" Justinian drawled, looking around a room that should have held quite a bit of the gear he was requesting. "I would think I would be waiting quite a long time to fulfill that particular request. However, as of now, I deem you unable to fulfill your most basic responsibilities as governor. Should the equipment turn up within the next couple of hours, you will have my sincere apologies, but until then, I will be taking over command of the town and its people."

The high noble's words hit the governor like a blow to the gut, and he nearly doubled over, but Justinian was far from done. "Should my assumption that there is no equipment be proven correct, your property will become forfeited until the cost of buying new gear is covered. Should this city fall due to your negligence and greed, or you flee, you will be branded as an oathbreaker across the realm. I advise you to throw all your efforts into the defense of this city, as it will be your only salvation."

Turning, Justinian started walking away, and a hole immediately formed in the shocked crowd who had yet to process what had just happened. "You-- You have no right to do this!" Snarled the governor. "Your house is broken and gone! You are nothing, and your noble title will soon be stripped from your family!"

Everyone in the room except the knights slammed to their knees, and even the Knights wavered as if they had suddenly grown light-headed as Justinian unleashed the full force of his domain. It wasn't a direct casting on the people's bodies, as that would cost even him far too much psy, though it was something close.

Within a domain — which was called a perception sphere at the lower levels — the ambient energy in the air could be used to interact with others, though it was limited in several ways, none of which applied at this moment. To everyone within Justinian's domain, which was over half of the fortress, it would have felt like several hundred pounds slammed onto their shoulders from one second to the next.

Turning around and walking back to the now kneeling, shuddering governor, Justinian Fridgia looked down on the man with naked disdain and contempt. "You are wrong. So long as I stand, so long as one of my people remains alive, House Fridgia has not fallen. We are the Ice Shield of the North, a fact you — and your forefathers — seem to have long forgotten. Which is a pity, as your family lost your honor and purpose at that moment." Spinning on his heels, Justinian strode away, his head held high as he planned what to do next.

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