🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter – 42
“Is mining mana stones on a rainy day really that dangerous?”
“Of course it is.”
Kudo replied to Carlyle’s question.
“For attackers, it’s the perfect condition. The sound of rain and wind hides movement, and the heavy downpour limits visibility. That means we’ll have a hard time keeping watch.”
“Ah, I see.”
Carlyle nodded in understanding.
Since mana stone mining operations took place outside the fortress, it was natural that the defending side would be at a severe disadvantage.
“Does this happen often?”
“Lady Helen doesn’t usually order reckless mining. She always puts the engineers’ safety first.”
“Then why today?”
“If pressure from the top gets too strong, even Lady Helen can’t do much. What power does a field officer have to defy orders from above?”
“True enough.”
Carlyle nodded again.
Helen, too, was just another victim of ‘orders are orders’.
Which soldier wasn’t?
“It looks like they’re planning to carry out simultaneous operations across several regions,” Kudo added.
“What do you mean?”
“There are many types of mana stones, aren’t there? They’ll want to mine a variety of them, so they’ll probably split up into separate teams to work in different areas.”
“That sounds even more dangerous.”
“Obviously.”
“……”
Carlyle was at a loss for words.
He couldn’t imagine what kind of pressure the higher-ups must have put on Helen to make her push through a dangerous operation in such weather.
All this for a bunch of rocks…
He didn’t say it out loud, though.
In this world, mana stones weren’t just rocks — they were practically the lifeblood of civilization.
Through advanced alchemy, they were used for everything:
magic, medicine, food production, metallurgy, fuel — you name it.
Their value was so high that nations practically lived and died by their mana stone reserves.
Even a month or two of unstable supply could shake the continent’s entire economy.
“Still, don’t worry too much,” Kudo said. “The barbarians know we avoid mining in weather like this. Chances are nothing will happen.”
“That’s a reli—”
Carlyle suddenly stopped mid-sentence, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“I… just got this really unpleasant feeling. Like someone’s watching me.”
“Sir?”
Kudo looked around, but there was no one nearby worth suspecting.
Well—except one.
“Maybe it’s that barbarian?” Kudo grinned, pointing at the severed head of Bjornsen impaled on a pike in the distance.
“…That’s ridiculous.”
Carlyle snorted.
How could a decapitated head glare at anyone?
— …….
Even Grimungand remained silent.
Since [Murderous Intent Detection] didn’t activate, there clearly wasn’t any real threat around.
“Must’ve just been your imagination.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Carlyle agreed, figuring it was just nerves.
It was the first time he’d ever seen a severed head up close, after all.
No matter how desensitized one might be, having something that grotesque nearby was bound to be unsettling — like accidentally locking eyes with a dead fish at the market.
“Anyway, once the scramble starts, it’s going to be interesting.”
“Scramble?”
“Everyone’s going to want you on their team, Private Carlyle.”
“Me?”
“With that inheritance sword of yours, your squad would have a huge tactical advantage.”
“Ah.”
Carlyle understood and nodded.
“All right, let’s head in. You should eat something before the briefing.”
“Sure.”
The two entered the tent.
The dead man’s eyes glared fiercely at Carlyle’s back.
The meeting began.
As Kudo predicted, the mana stone mining operation would proceed simultaneously across multiple locations.
Each type of stone was in short supply, so this was the only way to meet the upper command’s demands.
“Therefore,” Helen said, “we’ll split the engineers and recon units into three groups. I’ll lead one, Recon Captain Bergman another, and Sergeant Major Kudo the last.”
She began assigning personnel to each team by rank.
“Each team will be organized like this…”
All eyes turned to the one unassigned soldier remaining.
“……”
Carlyle shut his eyes tight as everyone stared at him.
Looked like Kudo had been right — a scramble was about to break out.
“We’ll take the rookie,” said Wilson, who was in Helen’s group, quickly grabbing Carlyle’s arm.
“No can do,” Marder cut him off sharply.
He belonged to Kudo’s team.
“What are you talking about? The rookie’s ours!”
The massive recon soldier nicknamed Ogre Daurian — from Bergman’s squad — joined in.
“No way! We’re taking him!”
“Oh yeah? Let’s see you try.”
“What, you wanna fight over this?”
And just like that, the “scramble” began.
With Grimungand’s [Murderous Intent Detection] being a borderline cheat ability, it was no wonder every squad wanted Carlyle.
Helen and Bergman didn’t voice any desire to take him — both had their dignity and positions to maintain — but their subordinates were another matter entirely.
Having Carlyle meant the difference between life and death out there.
Soon shouting turned to shoving, and fists were seconds away from flying.
“Enough!”
Helen finally stepped in, her patience exhausted.
“Private Carlyle will go with…”
She sighed, closing her eyes.
“…whoever wins rock-paper-scissors. Fair’s fair.”
Even she couldn’t quite believe the once-useless Carlyle had become everyone’s most coveted asset.
“I won,” Kudo said, smiling.
“Woo-hoo!”
His team cheered in triumph.
“Damn.”
“Fine, take him. See if we care!”
“Just remember, next time he’s ours.”
The other teams grumbled in frustration.
“Private Carlyle,” Helen called.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Come with me for a moment.”
Helen led him to a quiet corner and handed him a letter sealed with red wax.
The wax bore the Sigmund family crest — a letter from home.
“This is for you.”
“Huh?”
“There’s still time before deployment. If you want to reply, go ahead. The courier hasn’t left yet — he can deliver it.”
“Thank you.”
The letter was from Maranello and Evangeline back at the Sigmund estate.
It wasn’t anything special — just words of concern and wishes for his safe return.
A reply, huh.
Carlyle hesitated.
He appreciated the thought, but writing back felt awkwardly sentimental.
I’ll see them when I’m on leave anyway… oh.
He suddenly reconsidered, reaching for a quill and parchment.
No reason to get my hands dirty later.
He wrote a brief, polite reply saying he was doing well.
Then he penned another letter — addressed only to Maranello — one carrying a far more significant message.
After sealing it with wax borrowed from Helen, he handed both to the courier.
“Please deliver this to Steward Maranello of House Sigmund. It’s important — make sure it gets there quickly.”
“Ah— yes, sir.”
The courier stiffened at first, but Carlyle’s polite tone put him at ease.
Still, he knew better than to treat lightly the second son of Grand Duke Guntram, Lord of Decaron.
Now that I’ve sent the letter, I’ll wait for their response. If they don’t respond… well, that’s that.
Carlyle turned his attention back to the coming operation.
Rain poured down so hard it was almost impossible to see.
Thud, clang! Clang!
Despite the downpour, the engineers worked tirelessly, wielding their tools to pry mana stones from the earth.
Meanwhile, the recon troops stood guard, eyes scanning through sheets of rain for any sign of attack.
Even when the engineers took brief breaks under their tents, the scouts couldn’t afford to rest.
Protecting the miners’ safety was their top priority.
Carlyle, too, kept watch, rainwater streaming down his face.
“Um, big brother,” said Gwen, approaching him hesitantly.
Carlyle didn’t bother correcting her anymore — she’d called him that too many times to count.
“Here, have this.”
She held out a small piece of soggy bread.
“I’m fine, Private Gwen. You eat it.”
“But we already had something while you’ve been standing here all this time.”
“That’s the job of a recon soldier.”
“Still…”
“Refusing kindness isn’t a good look,” Kudo said as he passed by.
“Private Carlyle — ten-minute break. That’s an order.”
“A break, sir?”
“You’ve been standing guard for four hours straight. Take a breather.”
Given an unexpected rest, Carlyle reluctantly accepted the bread.
Kudo was right — turning down goodwill wasn’t polite.
“Thank you for saving me yesterday,” Gwen said.
“Yesterday?”
“When you pulled me out of danger. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh.”
Right — that had happened.
“No need to thank me. It’s a battlefield.”
“Still…”
“Why’d you enlist anyway? You’re not exactly… combat material.”
He was genuinely curious.
She looked too frail for this brutal life.
“My mother’s really sick, and my younger siblings are still small.”
“What about your father?”
“He was killed by barbarians three years ago. My brother died here last year. So there’s no one left to provide for us but me.”
“I see.”
Carlyle regretted asking, but nodded quietly.
It was a common story.
In Decaron, there were hardly any families who hadn’t lost someone to the barbarians.
That’s why the army had so many women — too many men had died, throwing the population balance off.
That’s life in the North.
He thought bitterly as he took a bite of the bread Gwen had given him.
It was half-soaked, tough, and stank faintly of old flour.
They could at least feed us something better…
That’s when it happened.
Vmm—
The sword at his waist, Grimungand, began to hum softly.
