Walking through the fort, I kept thinking about what I should say and how I should approach the topic. I was also surprised to find them idle. I had been given free rein because of my injury, but I did not know why they were not assigned any work.

  Maybe we would be given tasks as a squad once I was officially fit for duty.

  As I walked, I shifted the badge from my right pocket to my left.

  I did not want a confrontation. But it felt safer to have the badge within reach of the arm through which I could circulate mana if needed. I also switched the documents Cicero had given me from my left hand to my right. It caused a little pain, but not too much.

  When I approached the southern wall, I could hear their laughter from a distance. This time, however, the conversation stopped the moment they noticed me.

  Varric and Garran were sitting on the ground with their backs against the wall, legs stretched out. Barry lounged atop a barrel, one boot resting against the stone, his posture lazy. Kael sat on a chair pulled close to a large table, arms resting loosely at his side.

  I kept walking.

  My gaze met Varric’s, and neither of us looked away. He rose to his feet, slow and unhurried, and began walking toward me. Whatever plan I had pieced together during my walk suddenly became hard to remember.

  All I could hear was his voice from earlier that morning.

  I’m fucking glad Walter and the sergeant died.

  We stopped a few steps apart.

  I forced myself to look past him at the others. All of them were watching me closely, waiting to see what I would do next, as if that moment would decide the direction this squad would take.

  I reminded myself that we did not need to share the same opinion of people to function as a squad. Walter had been a stoic, gruff mentor to me, but from their perspective, he had not been a mentor at all. He had been the stick the sergeant used against them.

  I had never seen a direct confrontation between them, but I still remembered my first introduction, when Walter openly took a posture of challenge, daring anyone to make a move.

  I steadied myself.

  Then I did something unexpected.

  I pulled the badge from my pocket and pinned it to my left breast.

  “I don’t want a confrontation between us,” I said, keeping my eyes on Varric.

  He smiled faintly. “Then why show the badge?” he asked. “You think I’m scared of that?”

  “To show that this time I will use it,” I replied calmly, “if you force me to.”

  And I meant it. I needed to draw a line here. I could not afford to appear hesitant in making decisions, regardless of my personal moral values.

  Before I could say anything else, Barry let out a low whistle and began clapping slowly.

  “Well,” he said with a grin, “we officially have a sergeant, lads.”

  He glanced at Garran and Kael, both of whom smirked.

  “And look, he’s learned the truth about us,” Barry added, nodding toward the documents in my hand.

  I realized then that I was standing in their territory. Remaining apart only increased the pressure on me. I was not trained to deal with men like them, but I knew one thing.

  They were testing me. And I needed to do something to break their flow, something they would not expect.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  So I stepped past Varric.

  My heart rate spiked as I climbed onto the edge of the table and sat down, placing myself where I could see all of them at once. The wood creaked softly beneath my weight. I set the documents on the tabletop in one smooth motion, careful not to let the pain in my arm show.

  “Would you like to join us?” I asked, glancing back at Varric and pointing to the spot where he had been sitting.

  There was amusement in his eyes, but I ignored it and turned to Barry.

  “I haven’t read these files yet,” I said. “That’s why I came back. I want to talk before we’re given our assignments as a squad.”

  “I understand that we all feel differently about people,” I continued. “We don’t have to share the same opinions. But it would be better for everyone if we didn’t disrespect the dead.”

  I saw Varric preparing a quip. I raised my hand slightly, stopping him.

  “This isn’t an order,” I added with a faint smile. “If you want to gossip about people like little girls, I won’t stop you.”

  Barry snorted, eyes lighting up. I caught the twinkle there and knew he would use that line against Varric later.

  “Now, to the important part,” I said. “Our new squad will be a death squad. That means it will be made entirely of conscripted criminals.”

  I felt the shift immediately. Anticipation rippled through them.

  “So here’s my rule,” I continued. “Before I read your files, I want to hear from you. Share whatever you want. If there’s something you think is missing or misrepresented, say so.”

  The moment I finished, Varric made an exaggerated sound.

  “Ooooh,” he said, laughing. “You were doing so well.”

  He stood again, spreading his hands theatrically. “What, were you expecting a sob story? That I’m actually a good man?”

  His tone changed abruptly.

  “Let me tell you what’s wrong in my file,” he said flatly. “The number of people I’ve killed. I’ve killed far more than it says. I lost count when I was sixteen, so obviously the numbers are wrong.”

  Barry jumped in immediately.

  “Hey now,” he said seriously, “I’m completely innocent.”

  He placed a hand over his chest. “Edward, you need to trust me. I’ve never done anything wrong. I just fell in love with the mayor’s daughter, and suddenly I was charged with all kinds of crimes.”

  As the two of them joked, I felt a quiet sense of relief. My plan was working, at least for now.

  I was not na?ve enough to believe the army or nobles like Cicero had made some grand mistake. My goal was simple. I wanted to see their reactions before reading the files, then compare that to what was written, and finally observe their behavior during daily activities.

  I was hoping those three things together would tell me more about their personalities than I could learn just by reading their files.

  I kept my expression neutral, adopting a look of mild confusion.

  “What about you, Garran?” I asked, as if hoping for support.

  “Well,” he said after a moment, completely serious, “my file probably mentions that I like cutting things.”

  I turned to Kael with the same expectant look.

  “My file should be accurate,” he said simply.

  From their reactions alone, and from the last nine months of observation, I could already tell a few things.

  Varric was quick to aggression, but not reckless. He was always the first to challenge me, the first to test authority. There was no need to question his capacity for violence. Without the restraint of a mana oath, I had no doubt he would strangle me at the first opportunity, perhaps even just for the satisfaction of it.

  Barry was different.

  He was skilled at reading people, and even more skilled at hiding his own intentions. He preferred to stay behind Varric, letting the louder man draw attention while he measured the situation. Opportunistic. Adaptable. Difficult to pin down. If anyone in this group decided which way the wind was blowing before acting.

  Garran was mostly predictable. Violence was something he enjoyed. His comment today, combined with the smile he wore while fighting the Shadow Cat, was proof enough. He did not seek chaos for its own sake, but he took satisfaction in it when it came. That made him simple to read, but not necessarily safe.

  Kael remained the hardest to judge.

  He spoke little, reacted less, and revealed almost nothing. For him, observation alone would not be enough. I would need to read his file before making any concrete judgment.

  Now all I needed to see was whether this small experiment would work on the rest of the new squad as well.

  I nodded and stood.

  “My arm should heal in five days,” I said. “Meet me at Company Eleven’s training yard at sunrise. If we don’t receive orders by then, we’ll begin drills.”

  I met each of their gazes in turn.

  “And if we don’t show up?” Varric asked lazily, reclining back against the stone, his eyes flicking once more to the badge.

  “Ooooh,” I said, copying his earlier tone, “you were doing so well.”

  I smiled.

  “Varric, you seem to have forgotten who your sergeant is.”

  I kept smiling as I continued.

  “This is a death squad. That means we’ll be given the hardest missions, with the highest casualty rates. Now imagine everyone wearing rune armor and carrying rune shields.”

  I leaned forward slightly.

  “Except one person. Because he decided to piss off the sergeant who can draw those runes.”

  My smile faded.

  “I don’t care about your past crimes,” I said calmly. “All I care about is completing missions properly. I want our success rate to be so high that even nobles take notice of this squad.”

  I turned and walked away.

  I was not sure whether this approach would work or not. Over the next five days, I would need to read everything related to my authority and duties. I had already promised rune equipment, and I could only hope that decision was not beyond my authority.