Chapter 107: The Emergency Mobilization Order

The Lizardman emissary was beaten black and blue by the enraged councilors of Delrin Town. Clutching his head, he fled while cursing this group of “lowly scaleless creatures,” declaring they would pay a bloody price for their barbaric actions. Only when a furious old dwarf hurled a chair at him did he wisely fall silent and hastily escape from Delrin Town.

This dramatic scene unfolded on the streets, inevitably drawing the curiosity of onlookers. News of the Lizardman tribe’s impending war on Delrin spread like wildfire, reaching every household by afternoon. Panic spread like a plague. Even as night fell, carriages laden with gold and valuables rushed through the streets, while fleeing townsfolk led their livestock, lining up in long queues at the town’s entrance.

Before the arrival of the Lizardman emissary, some councilors, led by Mayor Tindall, had harbored a faint hope that surrendering Weiss would avert war. Now that hope had been utterly crushed by cold reality. They all realized that the “Devil’s Child,” Kotar, sought not only Weiss, the fugitive, but also aimed to infringe upon the freedoms and properties of everyone present—and indeed the entire town. No one with a shred of dignity could accept such brutal demands.

Remarkably, the meeting held that evening passed without a single quarrel. All councilors unanimously endorsed the proposals put forward by Flint Anvil and Guillaume Tal: to mobilize every available human, resource, and financial asset in town to prepare for war, urgently strengthening defenses against the imminent threat of Lizardman marauders.

That very night, the town square’s bulletin board displayed an “Emergency Mobilization Order” signed by Mayor Tindall. It summoned all militia members and every able-bodied male aged fourteen to forty-five who had undergone militia training to report to the barracks to receive arms and equipment, and to undertake wartime duties such as patrolling, reconnaissance, and digging trenches. Women were tasked with providing logistical support to the front-line militia, contributing their share to defend the homeland.

Although the emergency order did not outright ban townsfolk from fleeing, it imposed strict restrictions on refugees’ identities: all public officials—including the mayor, councilors, judges, and officers—were forbidden from abandoning their posts; all militia members were to remain on standby; women, the elderly, and children were permitted to seek refuge elsewhere. Able-bodied men, however, if they insisted on fleeing in this dire hour, risked forfeiture of citizenship, confiscation of their lands, and legal penalties imposed by the town council.

With the mobilization order in effect, the town’s atmosphere became unprecedentedly tense. Streets and alleys fell silent and deserted; occasional passersby were mostly militia clad in armor and armed with spears.

In the rural villages of the New World, attacks by bandits and even monsters were not uncommon. To survive and thrive in such a harsh environment, a martial spirit was indispensable.

Delrin Town was no exception. With a population of around two thousand, roughly a quarter were fit for military service. The vast majority reported to the barracks on the evening of March 20th, the day the mobilization order was issued. Registered militia and volunteers combined to form a force exceeding five hundred. The enlistment fervor continued into the morning of March 21st, though then new recruits were no longer mostly young men but included many gray-haired elders, boys under fourteen, and even some women.

Joan also appeared among the crowd before the barracks, signing his name on the roster of volunteers, attracting curious glances. By age and health, the one-eyed young mage had every reason to leave the storm-ravaged Delrin Town—indeed, even without an urgent need to flee, it was time to journey to Leyton Port’s Arcane Academy for further study. Yet Joan deliberately chose to stay, to face the looming crisis alongside his fellow townsfolk—a decision that stirred deep emotion.

He sensed the subtle shift in the way people looked at him: from cautious respect to a warmer familiarity. Joan understood why. Yet in his heart, he knew his choice to serve was not borne from the noble ideals others imagined, but chiefly influenced by his grandfather’s legacy. He could not bear to tarnish the old man’s honor—if Mr. Guillaume Tal’s grandson fled in the face of danger, how could his grandfather convince others to hold their ground?

Beyond this, a quiet burden of guilt also compelled Joan to remain. He had overheard the Lizardman emissary’s demand in the council chamber the previous day, which included handing over the “murderer of Kohn and Chud.” Others might not know whom this “murderer” referred to, but Joan could not feign ignorance. To some extent, the troubles facing Delrin Town were inseparable from his own misdeeds. The town had suffered for his mistakes. To slip away silently now would be utterly shameful.

Joan was not a man overflowing with a sense of justice, but he had his principles—chief among them, taking responsibility for his actions. Even if he could not become a revered hero, at least he would have a clear conscience.

Uncomfortable with the attention, Joan planned to leave after enlisting but was suddenly called back by a voice. Turning around, he saw Dick and Roger, the Tindall brothers.

Joan greeted the two, fully armored and imposing. Upon closer inspection, he noticed both wore captain’s armbands—an equivalent to non-commissioned officer ranks. Of course, the town’s militia was not part of the official colonial army; these ranks were merely temporary appointments.

“Joan,” Dick said, glancing around the crowd with a hint of mystery, “Roger and I were just promoted to sergeants by the town council. We’ve been tasked with recruiting up to ten volunteers each to form teams that will operate collectively in battle. Several veteran guards have received the same authority and are now selecting their squads, trying to enlist the strongest volunteers. Unfortunately, they’ve all overlooked you—the seemingly frail little mage—who on the battlefield can match the strength of a dozen men! Joan, are you interested in joining our team?”

Joan considered the offer. Ultimately, all temporary volunteers would be assigned to squads under veteran commanders. In a life-or-death struggle, he would rather entrust his fate to the Tindall brothers, comrades he had fought alongside before and whom he trusted both in skill and character. He nodded decisively.