Reborn as the Last van Ambrose

Captain Morvain strode through the camp toward the command center. His jaw was clenched with frustration.

The false Lieutenant Silvara had slipped through his fingers. Someone had penetrated their security and made a fool of him in front of his own guards.

Guards stepped aside as he passed. They recognized his mood. His reputation for violence when angry was well-earned.

The command center doors were guarded by twenty elves.

"Captain," one acknowledged. "Commander Thalorin is expecting you."

Morvain pushed through the doors without responding. Inside, Commander Thalorin stood over a table covered with maps and reports. His usual composed demeanor showed cracks of strain.

"Captain," Thalorin looked up. "We have a more serious problem than your infiltrator."

"More serious than someone walking through our security?"

"Much more serious." Thalorin gestured toward the door. "We need to visit the eastern perimeter. There's something you need to see."

"The dead elves?"

"So you heard." Thalorin's expression was grim.

They left the command center together. Guards moved in larger groups. Officers shouted orders with unusual urgency.

The walk to the eastern perimeter took fifteen minutes. Torches lined the path. Other officers were already gathered at their destination.

Captain Theron stood among them. His expression was carefully neutral as always.

"Commander," Theron acknowledged their arrival. "Captain Morvain."

"Show him," Thalorin ordered.

Theron led them to the edge of a grove of ancient oaks. "Look." The camp was still in chaos from the earlier lockdown. Guards rushed between buildings. Officers barked orders to confused subordinates.

The walk to the eastern perimeter took fifteen minutes. Torches lined the path. Their light cast dancing shadows on the trees.

Commander Thalorin stood at the edge of a grove of ancient oaks. His usual composure was cracked. His hands trembled slightly as he pointed into the darkness.

"Captain," Thalorin's voice was strained. "Look."

Morvain stepped forward and immediately understood why his commander looked shaken.

Seven elven bodies hung from the trees. They were arranged like grotesque ornaments. Ropes secured them to the trunks. Their armor was intact but their weapons lay scattered on the ground.

But the most disturbing sight was beneath each tree.

Piles of severed ears covered the forest floor. Dozens of them. The silver blood had dried to a dark stain on the fallen leaves.

"By the ancient gods," Morvain whispered.

"The patrol found them," Thalorin explained. "These seven were from Lieutenant Valdris's reconnaissance unit."

Morvain approached the nearest tree.

"How many ears?" he asked.

"We counted Forty-three pairs," Sergeant Kelleth reported. He looked sick. "Forty-three dead elves."

"Impossible. We haven't lost that many."

"Haven't we?" Thalorin stepped closer to Morvain.

Morvain felt ice forming in his stomach. "You think one person did this?"

"The human they're calling the Butcher. The one who's been hunting our patrols." Thalorin gestured at the macabre display. "This is his work."

"One human couldn't kill this many elves."

"One human could." A new voice said.

Captain Theron approached them with measured steps.

"Captain," Thalorin acknowledged. "Your assessment?"

"Professional work," Theron replied after examining the bodies. "Clean kills. Precise cuts. The display is psychological warfare."

"Meaning?"

"He wants us to know he's coming." Theron looked directly at Morvain. "This isn't random violence. It's a message."

Morvain studied the ear piles more carefully. The arrangement wasn't accidental. They formed a rough arrow pointing toward the camp.

"He's telling us he knows where we are," Morvain realized.

"More than that," Thalorin said grimly. "He's telling us he's not afraid of our numbers."

"Sir," Sergeant Kelleth interrupted. "What about the infiltrator from earlier? Could this be connected?"

"What infiltrator?" Theron asked with perfect curiosity.

"Someone impersonated Lieutenant Silvara," Morvain explained. "Penetrated the camp. Examined our prisoner facilities."

"Reconnaissance," Theron nodded. "Gathering intelligence for an assault."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Thalorin admitted.

Morvain felt the pieces clicking together. "The imposter. This display. The missing patrols." He looked at his commander. "We're being hunted."

"By one human?"

"By one human and whoever he's working with." Morvain pointed at the severed ears. "This level of psychological warfare suggests military training."

"Imperial forces?" Theron suggested.

"Possibly. The Celestis Empire has motivation to disrupt our operations." Thalorin rubbed his temple. "Especially if they know about the Levenhart woman."

The mention of their high-value prisoner made everyone tense. Lady Lianna represented significant intelligence value.

"Security recommendations?" Thalorin asked.

"Triple the guard rotations," Morvain said immediately. "Strengthen the prisoner complex. Assume they're coming for specific targets."

"The transport schedule?"

"Tomorrow night as planned. Get the high-value prisoners to the mountain stronghold before this Butcher makes his move."

Theron shifted slightly. "That's aggressive timing."

"Aggressive situations require aggressive responses," Morvain replied. "Every hour we wait gives them more time to plan."

"Agreed," Thalorin decided. "Captain Morvain, coordinate with the transport escort. I want overwhelming force protecting those prisoners."

"How overwhelming?"

"Two hundred guards and battle mages." Thalorin's expression hardened. "If this human wants our prisoners, he'll have to go through an army to get them."

"What about the camp defenses?"

"Assume we're under siege until further notice. Perimeter patrols in groups of twelve. No one travels alone. Shoot first and identify bodies later."

"One more thing," Thalorin added as they reached the command center. "Send word to the mountain stronghold. Alert them that we may have significant enemy forces in the area."

"Request reinforcements?" Morvain asked.

"Not yet. But prepare the option." Thalorin paused for a moment. "If this human is as dangerous as these displays suggest, we may need more than camp security to stop him."

Morvain nodded and headed toward his office. He had preparations to make. Guard rotations to reorganize. Defenses to strengthen.

But as he walked through the camp, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something important.

The infiltrator had been skilled. Professional. But she'd made a mistake that led to discovery.

The ear display was brutal but obvious. A direct challenge.

Too direct. Too obvious.

Real military operations didn't announce themselves with psychological warfare. They struck without warning. Achieved objectives before enemies could respond.

Unless the psychological warfare was meant to distract from something else.

Morvain stopped walking. "Sergeant Kelleth!"

"Sir?"

"Double the guard on the prisoner complex. Now."

"Sir, we already increased security after the infiltration."

"Triple it." Morvain's instincts were screaming warnings. "And check the service entrances. All of them."

"Is there a specific threat?"

"The specific threat is that we're thinking like they want us to think." Morvain resumed walking toward the prison complex. "They want us focused on perimeter security."

"While they do what?"

"While they walk through the front door with a key."

Sergeant Kelleth looked confused but followed orders. Within minutes, additional guards were moving toward the prisoner facilities.

Morvain positioned himself where he could observe all approaches to the prison. His instincts had kept him alive through decades of warfare.

Those same instincts told him the real attack was still coming.

And it wouldn't look anything like what they expected.

The Butcher had shown them he could strike when he wanted to.

But the most dangerous messages were the ones nobody saw coming.

Morvain settled in for a very long night of watching and waiting.

Whether they came as an army or as shadows in the night.