Wolfe walked over to the shower stalls to inform the new arrivals of what was going on.
“I am sure you’ve been informed already, your sentences are meant to be degrading and humiliating, so I am not allowed to let you use armour or attack magic. However, the Lieutenant says I can let you use magic to build the camp.
Mio was it, the artisan? What do you know for crafting skills?”
“I can make boards with Witch Magic and, of course, brick walls and tile roofs. I know the magic of binding the boards together to make a sealed surface as well, and I know the circle for warming Charms to make the houses comfortable. I can also do basic furniture, but I’m not the greatest artist. It wouldn’t be anything fancy, but it would be sturdy.”
Wolfe thought about that for a while, then looked around the camp. Most of the Witches shared tents to keep warm, so bunkhouses might be best, making room for larger units.
“Get dressed and follow me then. I’ll lead you to the open areas so your work doesn’t disturb anyone.”
As they walked, the prisoners kept their heads low, but Wolfe could see that they were scoping out the camp.
“Don’t bother to run. You can probably only go so far from me before the chain stops you. The Lieutenant informed me that I’ve been made your Warden for the remainder of your sentence.”
Mio looked shocked. “Not a Witch? You’re not going to give us to the other men in camp, are you? That’s what the Morgana line had done with the prisoners who were there the day we arrived.”
“I’m the only man in camp, and I’ve already got plenty of my own Witches if you recall. Now, we can start here. Make a bunkhouse big enough for at least ten to sleep in. Make it cozy, so it doesn’t take much magic to warm, with thick walls and at least one window facing the center of camp.”
Mio’s hands started moving even as Wolfe finished speaking, and thick stone walls rose from the ground, making a small building big enough for six cots, sleeping twelve after they were arranged as bunk beds.
All five of them were channelling mana as one to complete the spell, and the first house was completed, including the warming enchantment and six bunk beds made of vines and logs, in under an hour.
“Hey, Ilyas. What do you think of this one? Should I have them modify it, or will this work for the unit?” Wolfe asked, pointing to the bunkhouse that was built on the ruins of the original camp.
“Don’t they know the strengthening charm for the walls?” Ilyas asked Wolfe directly, ignoring the presence of the prisoners.
“No, they’re not fully trained. If you know it, show it to me, and I’ll have them add it.” Wolfe agreed.
“It’s Witch Magic.” Ilyas sighed and then carved the inscription on the inner wall of the building. Once it was drawn, she added mana to activate it.
“They all go on the inside of the walls so that they’re not damaged during attacks. The design looks good, so go ahead and make them all the same, but make a back room for the prisoners in yours. You can finally move out of the command bunker and see the sunlight.”
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“Oh, and make the windows wide and narrow, right at the top for yours. Regulations say no windows big enough for them to escape through in the Wardens house, and they need a second room that can be secured, no more than one square meter per inmate in size.”
Wolfe shook his head at the rules. “I might need a manual for this. I don’t know any of the rules.”
“Sylvan doesn’t often use the prisoner chains, so we don’t usually have to deal with it, and I don’t have a law book for them, but imprisoned traitors are legally the scum of society.
The chains prevent them from defending themselves, so anyone can do anything they want to them except help them. Only you can do that, and only you are allowed to feed them unless you give explicit permission to someone else.
Literally, the enchantments on the chains prevent others from even speaking a kind word to them or encouraging them in any way. If someone holds negative opinions of them, it will enhance the feeling, so you will need to watch out for them if they have trouble with any of the soldiers.
We are working on a way to keep them out of sight for now, and we have already let the unit know they probably didn’t deserve the sentence, but you need to keep up appearances around outsiders. Or just lock them inside when we have visitors.”
“Man, and I thought they treated demons badly with the curse of a Familiar. I will have to inform the cook to make sure they’re fed if I’m busy,” Wolfe muttered.
“A Demon is a Demon. They had no choice in the matter. The chains are for traitors who deliberately got their allies killed and offenders that have committed offences too disgusting for them to be allowed unsupervised around regular criminals.” Ilyas explained while the prisoners hid inside and quietly cried while memorizing the new spell.
“Alright, on to the next one,” Wolfe ordered, bringing everyone scurrying outside after he was fairly sure they had learned the magic to enhance the strength of stone walls.
Later that afternoon, a very official-looking convoy from Morgana arrived and drove straight into the camp.
“Are the traitors dead yet? I need them for something.” The man in the driver’s seat demanded.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in a Sylvan Army camp?” Priya asked, narrowly holding on to her courteous tone.
“Run along, little girl. I’m just here to take out some trash, and I’ll be on my way. Coven orders.” He informed her, handing over a letter with a large black seal on it.
Priya read the letter and then smiled, and handed it back. “I’m afraid you’re too late. A Warden has already been assigned to them, and they’re now the property of my unit so long as the Warden remains under my jurisdiction.”
“Who would dare defy the Young Mistress of the Morgan Family? Bring the Warden to me.” He demanded.
His voice could be heard all through the camp, and the words sent all of Wolfe’s Witches into the bunker, where they couldn’t be seen. All except Mary, who was currently out by the barrier on duty and impossible to spot from this end of the Camp.
Wolfe dismissed his armour amulet and quickly changed his armour spell into the Demon Lord costume he had designed as a joke back at the academy. An elegant black suit, with a red shirt and curled black goat horns on his head. Only this time, he added large black wings and a smooth black mask over his face.
With the thin layer of black mist, he looked suitably intimidating from the parts he could see, but he added long black claws to his hands anyhow, just a little touch to remind their unwanted guests that he was a Demon.
He left the building where they were working and marched over to the truck in what he hoped was an intimidating way. Going by the look on everyone’s faces, it was working. And not just on the people in the truck.
“What do you want? They’re mine for life, and you can’t have them.” He informed the men in the vehicle while shaking the black manacle on his wrist.
“Sylvan Coven gave them to a Demon Familiar as pets? Man, you guys are even more brutal than the Mistress. Fine, have fun with them as long as you like. But if they have any male children, she wants them, so she can curse them properly as the Outcast Demons they are.” The man announced, then signalled for his driver to leave the camp.
“What the hell is going on in the Morgana Coven? Someone call for a runner. We need answers from Command before this idiocy compromises security.” Priya demanded, then stomped off to find a radio.