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Chapter 12
“A sparring match?”
“Yes. It seems they’re doing something interesting.”
At Velcain’s words, Klo gave a short reply.
After hearing that someone from the squad had been beaten into a bloody mess on the first day, there hadn’t been any real reports…
“I never imagined they’d actually master joint combat techniques within the squad.”
“…Do you think they learned military strategy?”
“I don’t know. There doesn’t seem to have been any proper opportunity… Honestly, I even doubt whether it’s real joint combat at all.”
He was a low-born commoner with nothing to his name.
Where could a guy like that possibly have learned something like squad tactics?
Just one thing…
‘Back then, that movement…’
The way he handled Moldrek—those movements had been so clean and precise it sent chills down your spine.
Thinking about that made Velcain suspect he may indeed have learned strategy or some other martial discipline.
‘I suppose… I’ll need to look into him a little more.’
He was a man full of mysteries.
But then—
“Put that aside for now. Has there still been no reply to the letter we sent to Central?”
“No, sir. It seems it will take a bit more time.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t delivered incorrectly?”
Velcain’s eyes flashed sharply.
It was an extremely important matter; they couldn’t afford mistakes.
Klo nodded.
“I entrusted it to someone absolutely reliable. I don’t think you need to worry.”
“Hm… Then let’s wait a little longer.”
This matter was deeply entangled with the spy hidden here.
‘We’re at a point where we can’t trust anyone.’
How had the Empire rotted this far?
It was an utterly suffocating situation, but for now, all they could do was wait.
Velcain’s face as he looked over the documents was filled only with frustration.
Three days later.
With departure to the First Defensive Line—the battlefield known as the Land of Death—looming ahead, the entire 4th Platoon gathered.
The completely unexpected challenge issued by Squad 4.
The soldiers of other squads felt stunned and furious at the same time.
“These lunatics… I guess they still haven’t come to their senses?”
“Are they just hell-bent on dying now?”
“Whatever. Before we head to the First Line, let’s at least enjoy some free meat. Even if those bastards try their best, it’ll all be the same anyway.”
Even within the 4th Platoon, Squad 4 was the one being treated like trash.
Especially since, after the last battle, their numbers had dropped to five men, and the only reinforcement they received… was a squad leader.
Everyone was radiating hostility toward Squad 4.
Artheon, however, seemed to like the atmosphere and spoke to his men.
“This is how people see you. Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”
Raymon answered first.
“It is familiar… but not pleasant.”
“I feel like they won’t come to their senses unless I smash their skulls in with an axe.”
Burt glared murderously.
The others didn’t say anything, but the discomfort on their faces was obvious.
“Everyone ready?”
“Yes, all set.”
“I can fight anytime.”
“Haa…”
“Uh, s-squad leader… do I just… shoot arrows…?”
Grafiel asked, hands trembling as he held his bow.
Until now, he’d only ever shot at targets.
But the thought of now shooting at people made his hands shake.
Artheon spoke.
“Your arrows will be tipped with padded bundles instead of heads. No one’s going to get seriously hurt. So don’t hold back. Shoot properly.”
“…Y-yes.”
Grafiel swallowed hard.
The mood had solidified.
Artheon gripped his training spear and stepped into the center of his squad.
“Open your ears and focus only on my voice. There is absolutely no chance we’re getting pushed back.”
“Understood.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Got it!”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’ll complete my assigned task no matter what.”
All five squad members answered with determination.
Artheon turned to Hendris beside him.
“We’re ready. You can start.”
“Good. Then, Squad 1 first.”
At Hendris’s words, eight soldiers from Squad 1 stepped forward, their numbers newly reinforced including their squad leader.
“Because of those bastards causing trouble, our platoon’s image has been terrible…”
“Let’s give them proper education today.”
Judging from their expressions, Squad 1 clearly held grudges of their own.
Artheon glanced at his men.
“What did you do to make them look at you like that?”
“Well… we just smacked them around a bit when they didn’t listen.”
“…And that ‘smacking’ might’ve been a bit much.”
“I didn’t have any real trouble, squad leader.”
“Was it just me? Jalbarog also went around beating the crap out of them.”
“They were giving me nasty looks, so I just tuned them up a bit. That’s all.”
They were definitely guys worth keeping an eye on.
But that was for later.
“Focus. This is Squad 4’s first battle.”
Even if it was just a sparring match, it didn’t matter.
This was their first official combat.
At Artheon’s words, his squad’s eyes hardened.
They all understood what this match represented.
‘If we can’t…’
‘If we can’t even easily break through this…’
They would die on the First Defensive Line battlefield.
So they had to risk their lives in this sparring match.
The atmosphere heated.
Then Hendris spoke.
“We’re using training weapons, but deployment is in three days. Avoid any serious injuries as much as possible.”
“Yes!”
“Understood!”
The soldiers of Squad 1 and Squad 4 shouted loudly.
Hendris nodded and declared the start.
“Begin.”
“Haaah!”
“Just smash them!”
At Squad 1’s leader’s order, they charged.
Some of them clearly had decent training; the way they ran in with spears wasn’t half bad.
But…
“Burt, just knock away anyone coming from the front. Rafelsen, Jalbarog—you two focus only on blocking flanks with your shields.”
“Hmph! Don’t worry!”
“Understood.”
“Yes.”
As the three answered—
“Grafiel, prioritize intercepting those attacking from the sides and support the shield bearers.”
“Yes!”
Grafiel immediately drew and aimed.
And lastly—
“Raymon.”
“Yes.”
“You and I will take front and side. I’ll handle the left, you handle the right.”
“Understood.”
That was the end of the orders.
And by then, the enemy was already close.
“D-do… do I shoot?!”
“Shoot already, idiot!”
Burt roared at the hesitating Grafiel.
At that moment—
Swooosh!
Thud!
“Urk!”
One of the charging soldiers took an arrow straight on and flipped backward.
Even if the arrowhead was padded, the impact at that speed wasn’t something to laugh at.
Grafiel stared in shock.
“I… I…?”
But only for a second.
“Focus! Keep shooting!”
“Y-yes, sir!”
At Artheon’s command, Grafiel quickly nocked another arrow.
Enemies were already at arm’s reach.
“You worthless bastards!”
“We’re only going to half-kill you!”
They leapt at Burt with their spears.
But—
Clack! Clack!
Burt’s twin axes flicked, batting their spears upward.
“What the hell? So slow.”
Compared to Artheon’s attacks, they were slow enough to yawn at.
And the moment their weapons flew upward, exposing their guard—
Thud! Thud!
Artheon and Raymon’s training spears smashed into their chests.
Thump!
“Gah!”
Two soldiers flew backward, and Burt surged forward—
Or tried to.
Grab.
“Hold formation. Only block what comes.”
“…Got it.”
Maybe he got carried away.
Burt cooled his head and focused again.
Three out of eight were already down.
The remaining five hesitated for a moment.
“Flank them! Don’t give them time!”
If they hesitated, arrows would rain.
Squad 1’s leader shouted, stepping forward.
First priority—stop that big guy.
“Hrgh!”
He lunged at Burt with his spear.
In Squad 4, the only real fighters were Burt and Raymon.
Only those two.
Jalbarog was basically just a thug, and the other two couldn’t really fight.
“Hit the left! I’ll hold Burt!”
Left flank—Rafelsen.
Weaker than Jalbarog and smaller as well.
Which was exactly why…
Artheon was there.
“U-uwaaah!”
Three attacked Rafelsen at once; he screamed and raised his shield.
But then—
Voooom.
“Don’t be scared. I’m right here.”
Artheon murmured quietly behind him as he thrust his spear.
Slaaash!
A straight thrust.
Looked no different from any normal attack.
But—
BAM!
With a dull boom, the soldier hit by Artheon’s spear was sent flying over ten meters backward.
“…?!”
“Wh-what?!”
“…!”
The charging soldiers froze.
Even Squad 4 members stared, stunned.
It was just a training spear.
“C-can people really fly like that?”
“And that was Luke from Squad 1.”
Luke—the famed ace of Squad 1—had been blown away without doing a thing.
The Squad 1 leader, locked with Burt, couldn’t hide his shock.
“L-Luke…?”
“Hey! Where the hell are you looking?!”
Burt knocked aside his spear and slammed his forehead into the man’s face.
Crack!
His nose crumpled with a wet crunch.
“Graaah!”
The Squad 1 leader screamed and staggered back.
But this time, Burt didn’t chase.
Instead—
Swoosh!
As the leader tried to retreat, Raymon, who’d been waiting, thrust his spear full-force into his chest.
Thud!
“…!”
He didn’t even have time to scream.
Hit by Burt and Raymon’s combined attack, the Squad 1 leader collapsed unconscious.
Thud-thud-thud!
The remaining Squad 1 soldiers were crushed completely by Artheon.
And then—
Clack!
Their disrupted formation snapped perfectly back into place.
Only a week.
But in sheer hours of training, they’d easily exceeded 100 hours.
They proved how much people can change in that time.
“…Hah.”
Watching that, Hendris couldn’t hide his shock.
He raised his hand.
“Squad 4 wins!”
“Yeeaaahhhh!”
“That was nothing!”
“We won!”
Their first victory.
For those who had spent every day simply trying not to die, this was truly their first real win.
‘Even if… it’s just a spar.’
The thrill of victory in an official match couldn’t be expressed in words.
That day, Squad 4 absolutely crushed every other squad.
And then…
Three days passed.
