The clatter of hooves and wheels echoed in the early morning mist as a convoy passed the southern checkpoint of Betim. Guards from the Companhia de Guarda Barbosa nodded as they inspected crates, logging names and destinations in thick-bound ledgers. The roads were no longer paths of dirt and chance. They were arteries — patrolled, structured, and secured.
And behind the calm, a new structure was taking form — one unseen by most, but pivotal to everything.
The Rise of the Inner Shield
Joaquim, commander of the Guarda, stood before Marcos in the estate's hall. With him were ten hand-picked men — tall, composed, and marked not by medals, but by silence. Each had passed months of grueling conditioning, mock drills, and oath-bound trials. All had served on the outer patrols. All had seen real conflict — bandit raids, grain disputes, even a failed ambush near Sarzedo.
Marcos studied them in silence.
"They do not need banners," Joaquim said. "They are the banner."
Thus was born the Escudo de Honra — the Shield of Honor. A unit within the Guarda Barbosa, tasked with only one mission: the protection of Marcos Stefano Barbosa and the key pillars of his emerging dominion.
They would not wear unique colors. They would blend in among the Guard, appearing only when necessary. But within their gear, a quiet distinction: numbers engraved inside their bracers, from I to X. No names. No titles.
Word spread, as whispers do.
"Ten of them can stop a hundred," a trader murmured on the road to Contagem.
"They don't speak. They listen to his thoughts," another joked uneasily.
In Betim, these ten men became legends before they acted.
The Shape of Power
Meanwhile, the city council of Curral Del Rei had formally requested that Marcos submit a proposal for Betim's urban charter. It was an expected step, but a dangerous one. Recognition brought authority — but also regulation.
Marcos sat with Ana and Baltazar by lamplight, maps sprawled over the study table.
"We control the roads. The grain. The law. The people already come to us for arbitration," Baltazar said.
"Then let us make it official," Ana added, "before someone else does."
The charter, when submitted, would position Betim as more than a trade outpost — it would become a juridical seat, capable of issuing licenses, hosting courts, and taxing commerce directly. The first draft included:
An office for local magistrates;
The creation of a market regulation bureau;
Formal oversight of new construction standards;
Recognition of the Guarda Barbosa as the official security force.
Marcos signed it at dawn, sealing the scroll with the crest of his house — the gear, the flame, and the coffee branches.
The Ties That Bind
With the charter underway, Marcos deepened ties with surrounding powers.
Contagem's Monteiros were granted a partial share in Betim's southern stables in exchange for exclusive grain routes during winter.
Esmeraldas' Pereiras began joint workshops on water-driven mills using blueprints from the system.
In Igarapé, new kilns doubled production, allowing for export to Nova Lima, where old colonial houses were being refitted with tiled roofs.
As these alliances bloomed, so too did Betim's influence.
And with influence came attention.
Whispers from the East
Reports from Sabará grew concerning. The Vilarins, an old merchant family with eyes on the same routes now dominated by the Companhia da Sombra, had begun lobbying for imperial scrutiny.
They called Marcos "a foreigner to the traditions of Minas", cloaked in gold and ambition. And worse — they had contracted a chronicler to document rumors of overreach, espionage, and coercion.
"Let them write," Marcos said, barely lifting his eyes from his ledgers. "We'll be the ones who publish."
Still, he quietly approved an expansion of the Nove Dedos' operations. Tobias was reassigned to Sabará under a new identity. Two others were sent to Nova Lima and Ouro Preto — not to disrupt, but to listen.
"A blade unused does not rust," Baltazar reminded him.
"Ours," Marcos replied, "was forged to remain hidden."
The People Remember
At the market square, children played with wooden tokens shaped like the family crest. Local farmers had taken to branding livestock with a simplified version of the symbol. A blacksmith offered to forge medallions bearing it — not for coin, but for favor.
And then came the question — posed by a baker's daughter who had once been afraid to speak.
"Why doesn't Senhor Barbosa wear a crown?"
Ana, who stood beside Marcos, answered before he could.
"Because crowns sit above the people," she said. "And he walks among them."
The girl smiled and ran off, braid bouncing behind her.
System Notice
That evening, as Marcos reviewed parchment drafts of the charter by candlelight, the system shimmered silently in his vision:
[Mission Complete: Establish Internal Elite Security – Escudo de Honra Created]
✔ Ten elite guards selected and assigned
✔ Role defined: Personal protection and critical asset defense
Reward Unlocked: Tactical Overlay Map – "Emergency Civil Containment Protocol"
[Mission Complete: Urban Charter Proposal Submitted]
✔ First draft approved and acknowledged by Curral Del Rei council
New Mission Available:
"Strengthen Regional Influence: Prepare for Political Presence in Curral Del Rei Assembly"
Marcos leaned back in his chair. Outside, he could hear the faint chants of the guards changing shifts. The city had no walls — not yet. But it had something far stronger.
Will. Order. Purpose.
And with the Escudo de Honra in place, he was no longer simply leading.
He was becoming untouchable.