CH904 · Rewrite
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Chapter 904: Battle Alert (First Half)

Vader went out on patrol every evening at dusk.

Most nights he took two or three officers with him and made a circuit of Neverwinter. Sometimes, though, he went alone—in theory, the chief of the police department and the third-ranking man in the Security Bureau had no business patrolling the streets himself. But he preferred the feel of the city under his feet to the feel of paper under his hands, so he kept going.

He had been in Neverwinter for a year and a half. Two things here had made the deepest impression on him. The first was the pace of the city’s expansion: when he’d arrived, he could walk Border Town’s perimeter in half an hour. Now that same walk took at least three times as long, and that was without counting the harbor to the south and the farmlands spreading eastward.

The second was the peace.

The most common crimes in Neverwinter were theft and brawl, and those were also the worst of it. Homicide, robbery, kidnapping—events that in any city he’d known could be expected weekly—happened here so rarely they still startled him when they did. The security had deteriorated, briefly, during the worst of the refugee influx, but the police department and the Witch Union together had dealt with the troublemakers quickly. His Majesty’s promise to solve every crime had not been an empty one: in the face of Summer’s retrospective ability and Vanilla’s tracking ability, there was nowhere for a criminal to go. The risk was too high and the cost was absolute. The Black Street Rats had been cleared away entirely.

He did the patrols because he wanted to feel it—this peace—with his whole body. There was a particular satisfaction in seeing a citizen strolling carelessly through the city after dark, seeing the nod of recognition they gave him as he passed. The trust in that nod was something he had never expected to earn.

He had come to Neverwinter expecting to become a street thug again. Not this.

Both jobs—patrol guard and police chief—were built on the same skeleton. The same procedures, nearly the same tasks. But the outcomes were entirely different people. The difference, he thought, was most likely the capabilities of whoever stood at the top.

“Chief—going without me?” Whistle fell into step beside him just outside the City Hall, where he’d been dispersing his troops for the evening.

“Aren’t you going to spend time with that girl of yours tonight?”

Whistle’s face colored immediately. “You—how do you know about that. It’s not—it isn’t necessary to be together every single evening.”

Several passing citizens laughed at this.

Vader kept his face neutral. “You’d better be careful, or someone will take her from you.”

“Shut—shut up!”

Vader shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Go on. I’ll handle the patrol tonight. Head home.”

“Well—in that case, thank you, Chief!”

He watched Whistle’s back as the man went off practically at a trot, and felt something settle in his chest—fond, and a little wistful. When he’d left Valencia all those years ago, he’d been alone and had assumed he would stay that way. He hadn’t imagined this: a career that meant something, a house purchased adjoining his father Cacusim’s, and—slowly, in the back of his mind—the beginnings of a thought about finding someone himself.

He turned and walked toward the City Hall gates.

The alarm hit him before he was through them.

“Woo—woo—”

A long, rising shriek, cutting upward in a loop that repeated and repeated without break or rest.

Vader stopped moving.

He knew every alarm sound this city used. This one he had heard only in drills—never in the city, never under a real sky. It was the highest-level alert, the one not sounded even during the Months of Demons, the one that meant something qualitatively different from anything that had come before. It lodged in the chest rather than just the ears.

Under this alarm, Neverwinter went to martial law. All city gates closed. The police cleared the streets. The First Army formed a defensive perimeter.

“Chief!” Whistle burst back out of the office with the rest of the team on his heels.

Vader turned. The entire City Hall courtyard had frozen—clerks, officials, guards—everyone standing perfectly still with the same expression of stunned incomprehension, as if they’d collectively forgotten how to move.

His Majesty is with the troops recovering Graycastle. This is not a drill.

Whatever has happened, it happened now—when Neverwinter is most exposed.

“Stop standing there!” His voice came out like a crack of timber. “Move! Whistle, recall everyone on leave. Firehead—the rest of you, with me to the wall. Do exactly what you practiced in the exercise. Is that understood?”

The snap of it woke them up. Officers, clerks, officials—everyone broke into motion at once.

“Yes, understood!”

Vader was already moving, leading a group of police at a run through the castle quarter.

Out on the main street, he found what he’d feared: confused residents standing in clusters, looking up at the sky as if the sound were coming from above them. The new alarm system had only been installed since the new year. There had been no citywide drill, no public rehearsal. His Majesty had not expected an emergency this soon—and if Vader were being honest with himself, it was a lapse. He would have sounded the regular bell at the same time and given the citizens a clearer prompt to move. But now was not the moment to weigh mistakes.

He stopped, clapped his hands once—sharp, carrying—and waited for heads to turn. “Everyone listen! Go home immediately and stay indoors. This is an enemy attack alarm. Go home now!”

“Go home—don’t stay on the street!” Firehead and the others took up the call around him.

Fortunately, the police still had the city’s trust. The administrative department had run multiple drills with the regular alarms, and people had some muscle memory for this. The street began to empty. One by one, then in groups, residents turned for the residential quarters.

They ran for the wall.

Soldiers covered every stretch of the parapet, flags snapping hard in the evening wind. The artillery platforms had their guns already laid across the grassland, muzzles aimed at nothing yet—waiting. Vader felt something in him quiet when he saw that. The First Army was already in place. Whatever was coming would have to come through this.

That had been proven, battle after battle. Nothing got through.

The police spread across the wall district and set to work securing the area, pulling order out of the crowd’s agitation. It wasn’t difficult—people were frightened but listening. Vader moved through the positions, checking, and gradually realized that the grassland below the wall was completely undisturbed. The treeline of the Misty Forest stood still to the west. The Impassable Mountain Range closed the horizon to the east. Between them, across the flat open ground where no army could move unseen for more than a mile—

Nothing.

Not a single shadow. Not a sound.

Where is the enemy?


In one of the meeting rooms inside the Lord’s castle, another kind of battle had already begun.

“Because of an unknown witch’s mumbling—” Barov turned from the table to fix Wendy with an expression of pure disbelief, “—you triggered the highest-level alarm?” He gestured toward the window, through which the alarm’s wail was still faintly audible. “Do you have any idea how much disruption and loss this will cause? We don’t even know whether this woman Lorgar can be trusted. And if I’m not mistaken, your only evidence is her sleep-talk!” His voice rose. “You’ve shut down half of Neverwinter on this—what am I supposed to tell His Majesty when we fall behind on every task he assigned us?”

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