[Units Deployed: 4 Panzergrenadier Ptoons; 3 Panzer ptoon]

  [Command Mode Active: Frontline Assault]

  [Remaining Points: 1520]

  [Designation: Confirmed]

  The fires burned outside the city.

  Long trenches had been dug by the city’s survivors, filled with the broken, twisted remains of beastmen, cnrats, and corrupted creatures. Their corpses burned in massive pyres — fire and salt, the only true purifiers after such dark magic. The smoke of war still hung in the air, acrid and heavy, but now it was joined by the scent of funerary rites.

  Farther from the enemy’s pit, another pyre stood — this one made with care.

  The dead of Stonewatch — its defenders, its mages, its civilians — were id to rest in rows. Burned with solemn rites and with their names read aloud by surviving clergy. Their ashes would be gathered in urns, their names inscribed into the cathedral’s memorial walls.

  But one pyre stood alone, just in front of the cathedral.

  Alice. Heinrich. Emma. Annabel.

  Each was wrapped in cloth, their forms untouched by rot or corruption. Their bodies had been recovered by one of Reinhard’s squads and prepared with reverence. No soldiers fnked this pyre — only Reinhard. He stood with helmet removed, Mars at his side.

  The entire pza was still.

  A few of his officers watched from the cathedral steps, but no one approached.

  Reinhard stepped forward and pced something at the feet of each of them — small, silver disks, etched with names and burning faintly with soul-forged light. Soulbound Tokens. Anchors not to bind the dead, but to carry their memory with him — a shard of their presence, a link across worlds.

  He would carry them, always.

  He looked up, eyes stinging not from smoke.

  The fire was lit.

  The fme rose gently, consuming without violence. It did not roar like the others. It glowed — blue and silver, refracting against the stained gss of the cathedral. The wind tugged at Reinhard’s coat, but he stood unmoving.

  Mars lowered his head, silent.

  And when the fire faded to embers, Reinhard stepped forward once more and retrieved the tokens. He pced them inside his uniform, near his heart. Then turned and walked away, there was more to be done.

  A small grove near the family home had been cleared. The house still stood — reinforced and now permanently guarded. Soldiers patrolled the perimeter. Two armored half-tracks idled nearby. No one approached without clearance.

  There, beneath a tree stood a white marble Cross with the engraved names of his loved ones. Reinhard buried each urn with his own hands.

  No priest. No ceremony. Just him. And Mars. And the wind.

  The soldiers stood at attention, silent.

  After the final urn was id to rest, Reinhard removed his gloves, pced a hand on the earth, and closed his eyes.

  The silence stretched.

  He said a quiet prayer, unknown to this world, but near and dear to him. From his past.

  Then he stood.

  “Guard it,” he said to the squad captain nearby.

  “With our lives, sir.”

  He nodded once, then turned to the trucks.

  A team was already preparing to enter the hidden sublevels beneath the house. A reinforced elevator shaft led into the Vault — a byrinth of tech, schematics, weapons, tools, generators, scientific equipment, communications arrays, and sealed cryo-storage lockers.

  It had everything. Enough to jumpstart a revolution.

  Reinhard gave the all-clear, and the trucks began loading. His power to summon advanced technology to this world was gone, but he had already made pns to regain it in due time.

  **********************************

  Margrave Halderan stood at the stone balcony of the keep, overlooking the battered skyline of Stonewatch. What had once been a proud trading city now looked more like a wounded beast — breathing, bandaged, but bleeding still.

  Erich stood beside him, arms covered in mana-dipped bandages folded across his chest, eyes faintly glowing and fixed on the smoke rising from the lower districts. The city’s wounds would take time to heal — not just the walls, but the soul of it.

  “He’s going to draw attention,” Erich said.

  Margrave Halderan didn’t respond right away. He already knew it. He could feel the weight of it pressing down — a political storm gathering just beyond the horizon.

  “No one commands an army like that,” Erich continued, “and walks free. Not here. Not with the way the lower and upper parliaments of nobles hell, highbloods in general view power.”

  “He saved this city.”

  “Yes,” Erich said evenly. “But the nobles won’t care. They'll see only what he is now. Not what it cost him.”

  Margrave Halderan exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing on the city below — on the columns of foreign soldiers patrolling with eerie precision. “He’s not one of them. That alone will be enough.”

  “The lower parliament will demand answers.”

  “Then we give them answers,” Halderan said, voice hardening. “And legitimacy.”

  Erich turned, surprised. “You’re going to elevate him?”

  Margrave Halderan gave a slow nod. “I will name him Fürstenmark of Steinwacht. He already is its defender in every way that matters. This only puts a seal on what has already happened.”

  Erich raised an eyebrow. “That’s more than ceremonial. That’s power — garrison rights, levy command, conquest rights, trade authority.”

  “And an honorary seat in the upper house of parliament,” Halderan added. “It puts him on the record — and under the Empire’s eye, but only answerable to the Emperor. They’ll hate it. But they won’t be able to move against him without cause.”

  Erich rubbed his chin. “It also makes Stonewatch his responsibility. If he accepts.”

  “He will,” Halderan said. “He’s already rebuilding it — with weapons and logistics we can barely understand. Let’s not pretend he hasn’t already become the power here.”

  Erich nodded slowly, considering. “You do realize what this makes him, right?”

  “A lightning rod,” Halderan said. “The Empire may smile and nod, but the nobles won’t forget this. Reinhard Stahl will have enemies he hasn’t met yet — and they’ll come cloaked in gold and w, not fangs and bdes.”

  “And if he refuses?”

  Margrave Halderan’s gaze was steady. “Then he becomes a rogue element. A living weapon without a leash. They’ll invent a reason to kill him.”

  Erich sighed. “It’s dangerous.”

  “It’s survival,” Halderan replied.

  Below them, Reinhard’s convoys rolled through the recovering city — steel beasts surrounded by disciplined soldiers, quiet but unyielding. Not conquerors. Not saviors. Something in between.

  “And what will they whisper about in the halls of nobles?” Erich asked, half-amused.

  Margrave Halderan turned, walking back toward the war room. “They’ll call him a pretender. A commoner with power.”

  He paused at the threshold.

  “But history will call him something else.”

  “…And what’s that?” Erich asked.

  Margrave Halderan looked over his shoulder.

  “The man who turned the tide.”

  ********************************

  The following days were filled with motion. The Tiger 2s, Panzer 4s and Fkpanzers re-deployed outside the walls, keeping the remnants of beastmen at bay. Panzergrenadiers swept the rubble, assisting civilians and recovering infrastructure. Military engineers fortified gates, reset roadblocks, and began repairs on the sewers.

  Everywhere, signs of modernization emerged:

  Watchtowers reinforced with steel.Communication lines strung between key positions.Water filtration units humming to life.The Cathedral District, now fully secure, became the new administrative center. The Soul Anchor pulsed softly, empowering nearby wards and providing clean energy to surrounding structures. Reinhard used his remaining points.

  Reinhard stood in the Cathedral Square — now his de facto command center — surrounded by mobile logistics tents, humming generators, signal antennas, and the stomping boots of soldiers too disciplined to rex. Mars y beside him, silent as ever, his amber eyes locked on the distant horizon.

  [Soul Points: 1523] [Deployment Zones: 3 Active] [Soul Anchor: Cathedral District – Stabilized]

  Reinhard raised one hand to the side of his helmet.

  “Pull up requisition matrix,” he ordered.

  [Request Queue: OPEN] [Deployment Units Avaible]

  He scanned the list with surgical focus. Infantry had swept the sewers. Tanks had crushed the breach. But now came the transition — from chaos to command. From reaction to structure.

  With precise inputs, he keyed in his next order:

  [NEW DEPLOYMENT REQUESTED]

  [Combat Engineer Ptoon ×2] (Tunnel clearance, fortification setup)[Panzergrenadier Ptoon ×2] (Urban combat + hold operations)[Mechanized Logistics Company ×1] (Fuel, maintenance, resupply)[Panzer Ptoon ×1] (2× Panzer IV, 2× Tiger II, 2× Hummel, 2× Fkpanzer)[Soul Cost Incurred: 616 SP] [Remaining: 904 SP] [Materializing Units…]

  The ground trembled — not violently, but with weight. The pza shimmered as more soldiers stepped forth from the ether, followed by the deep mechanical rumble of engines. The new Panzer ptoon rolled out in perfect formation — Tiger IIs anchoring the column, Hummels locking into firing brackets, Fkpanzers fnking for coverage. The Panzer IVs were already peeling off toward the streets ahead for forward positioning.

  Reinhard’s soldiers didn’t cheer. They didn’t need to.

  They knew what came next.

  A tall, broad-shouldered veteran with dark stubble approached and saluted. Sch?ffer, the de facto command lead of the first Panzergrenadier ptoon, nodded once.

  “We’re ready to formalize ranks, sir. Promotions across the board. Dozens stepped up during the siege.”

  Reinhard nodded. “Make it official. Battle-tested gets priority. I want full field hierarchy by dusk.”

  Sch?ffer hesitated for only a second. “And operational names for units?”

  Reinhard gnced at the assembled forces — steel, smoke, and discipline under one banner.

  “Name them after what they are,” he said. “Ghosts from a war that never ended.”

  [New Unit Designation Confirmed:] 1st Armored Company – “Eisendorn” 2nd Armored Company –”Schattenkreuz”

  3rd Armored Company – “Aschenherz” Engineer Ptoon – “Sturmklingen”

  [Field Promotions Assigned:] — Sgt. Sch?ffer → Captain Sch?ffer (Command Lead, 1st Armored Company) — Sgt. Helvig → Captain Helvig (Command Lead, 2nd Armored Company) — Sgt. Stocker → Captain Stocker (Command Lead, 3rd Armored Company)

  Reinhard closed the menu and looked east.

  The occasional gunshots within the city had stopped.

  Smoke still hung low over the scorched breach, but the noise was gone. No more screaming. No more chaos. Only echoes and silence.

  But silence never sted.

  Reinhard pced one gloved hand on Mars' neck. The direwolf didn’t flinch.

  “Get them moving,” Reinhard ordered. “They are to set a defensive perimeter around the city. I want combat engineers to start preparing a network of defensive lines. They will return en masse and we must be ready.”

  “Yes, Commander,” Sch?ffer snapped, already barking orders.

  As the troops mobilized, a chill wind swept through the square — not cold, but charged, as if the city itself had taken a breath. They were no longer scrambling to survive.

  They were beginning to rebuild.

  And Reinhard Stahl was no longer just a soldier in the ashes of Stonewatch.

  *********************

  The following morning was painted in soft gold and ash-gray skies. The scent of charred timber and iron lingered faintly in the air, but it was no longer oppressive — more a memory than a warning. Stonewatch breathed again.

  The pza before the cathedral had been cleared and washed. Civilians stood in solemn rows, dressed in borrowed dignity. Survivors. Soldiers. A city clinging to its foundations, trying to remember what hope felt like.

  At the cathedral steps, Margrave Halderan stood in full regalia — though the ceremonial cloak draped over his shoulder still bore signs of battle. Beside him, Erich, and what remained of Stonewatch's noble council and representatives from the imperial frontier provinces.

  Reinhard stood before them — unmoved, unreadable. His uniform had been cleaned, pressed, the stains of blood scrubbed away. But nothing could erase the weight in his eyes. Behind him stood the mechanized might of his soulbound legion — Eisendorn, Aschenherz, Schattenkreuz — unflinching, ever silent. No native-born soldier stood among them.

  These were not men of this world.

  And yet, they stood for it now.

  Halderan stepped forward, his voice clear and deliberate, its timbre carrying through the pza.

  “Stonewatch has endured a catastrophe. Not because of its walls… but because of the will of its defenders. And chief among them stands one who did not owe us loyalty, and yet gave it unflinchingly.”

  He reached into the folds of his cloak and withdrew an ornate scroll, bound in silver and stamped with the imperial seal.

  ““Let it be known throughout the Empire,” Halderan’s voice rang out across the still pza, the nobles and soldiers gathered in solemn witness, “that Reinhard Stahl — soldier, commander, and savior of this city — has earned more than gratitude. He has earned sovereignty.”

  A murmur rippled through the gathered ranks.

  “By my right as Margrave of the Eastern Marches, and as steward of these nds in the Emperor’s name, I bestow upon him the title of Fürstmark von Steinwacht (Stonewatch) — Prince of the March and Lord of Stonewatch. His station is henceforth noble and rightful, enshrined by blood, bound by duty, and sealed by fire.”

  Halderan’s eyes met Reinhard’s, voice firm.

  “You hold not only this city, but the charge of its rebirth. May its future be forged in steel, as you have proven it can be.”

  There was a murmur among the gathered nobility.

  Fürstenmark was no minor honor. It was a hereditary noble title, binding Reinhard directly to the Emperor’s w and house — not to local vassage. It granted him an honorary seat in the upper House of the Imperial Parliament and made him untouchable by rival nobles of the lower house without cause or trial.

  A dangerous, yet powerful move.

  “You are now lord and protector of Stonewatch. You hold these nds in your name, answerable only to the Throne.”

  Halderan stepped close enough to speak without the crowd hearing.

  “This will rattle the snakes in court,” he said low. “But it’s the only shield I can give you that the Parliaments won’t overturn.”

  Reinhard took the scroll and the signet ring it came with — a symbol of his new station.

  “I don’t want a title,” he murmured.

  “You need one,” Halderan replied. “Or you’ll be branded an upstart and assassinated in a week.”

  They shared a brief, knowing look.

  From the back of the crowd, a courier in gray-and-red livery slipped in. He bore no banner of any noble house.

  He waited until Halderan acknowledged him, then approached, and took a scroll from Halderan sealed with blue wax, that of higher nobility.

  Halderan’s eyes narrowed.

  I pray the emperor agrees.

  “The Court will know soon,” he muttered to Erich beside him. “They’ll definitely be watching.”

  Reinhard stepped up onto the cathedral steps, overlooking the square. The citizens watched. The soldiers watched. His soldiers — foreign, steel-cd ghosts — stood in formation like sentinels.

  “This isn’t a throne,” Reinhard said aloud. “It’s a burden. But I will carry it. I will rebuild this city… and I will make damn sure that these nds are never attacked again.”

  No cheers followed. Just a steady nod of understanding from the crowd.

  The keep bell tolled once.

  And as the bck and gold banner of The Empire was raised —it was fnked by the bck, white and red banner with a steel cross insignia of the Stahl Legion — a new era began.