Dawn of Battle Island - Time for Discharge, Sergeant

The hazy dawn light brightened ever so slowly. Staring at it quietly, the voices of my comrades faded into the distance.

That baby-faced junior sergeant who always played nice with the seniors. Sergeant Bang Tae-hoon, who hoarded instant noodles even during the war (they all went bad in the end). Sergeant Choi Tae-won, the slacker who wandered around carefree and annoying everyone. And Squad Leader Lim Hoon-sik, who grumbled endlessly about how much of a pain in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the ass ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the unit was but stayed the reliable big brother to the end.

I let their voices drift away with the cup of coffee Isabella had handed me, then swallowed them down in one gulp. It wasn't scalding hot, nor was it cold. Bitter as hell, but with a sweet aftertaste.

"And 'do a runner'? What kind of bullshit is that."

I laughed through what felt like tears, quietly tucking away the lingering echoes of emotion.

I still hadn't buried their coffins in the Lost World. With Gustav Dora and Enola Fortress still around, my discharge was a long way off. But.

"Yeah. Time for me to get out too. Discharge."

Even the commie bastards would be foaming at the mouth after getting dragged through this much hell—what about me?

In that sense, infinite thanks to everyone who helped me this time.

Honestly, I was worried. I was pretty much out cold, so I don't know for sure, but from the circumstances, it seemed like Nautilus had made my squad-mates feel my memories from my military days.

The proposition of 'humans killing each other' might've been too traumatic for folks who never imagined it. Fortunately, though, it didn't turn out that way.

They all said it felt like waking from a nightmare once they snapped back to reality. Not a good feeling by any means, but something they could shake off and move on from in real life.

I even verified it with Isabella, who can't lie when I grab her chin and stare her down. No sugarcoating or pitying white lies there.

My guess? Nautilus probably took some measures on its own.

Hmm. Still left a complicated taste, though.

I'd always thought those memories were mine alone to bear, and I felt sorry for unintentionally sharing them. But at the same time... it felt good knowing I wasn't the only one who'd remember my comrades anymore.

Like the weight of those coffins on my shoulders had lightened just a bit.

I exhaled a thin, long breath and gently set the empty coffee cup down on the table.

Professor Beltum said inner explorations like that are best spaced out. In the meantime, meditate in lotus position to steady the mind.

In other words, back to everyday life. Until the next fight.

With that in mind, I checked my deck before heading to class.

A few changes had cropped up.

First off, United Operation - Tactical Fusion: Red Line had been swapped for United Operation - Tactical Fusion: Retake.

The material selection from field, grave, or deck was the same. But where those materials went afterward? Totally different.

And the last encounter from the inner exploration, Machinery Deep-Sea Dragon - Nautilus? That guy's gone blank slate now.

Not like the card vanished... more like it's mid-update.

Here's hoping it's mellowed out a bit. I don't need three chatty dragons yapping nonstop, especially with Enola Fortress loosening up after the Glontes fight.

Last but not least, this card. Machinery Hope - Peanut.

I gently stroked the card I'd picked up.

Loyal hound—that's what Enola Fortress called it. Spot on.

"Makes sense. How many sausages have you scarfed from me, you mutt?"

I muttered with a smirk, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Peanut's card vibrated faintly.

Beyond that, massive shake-ups in the support card pool too.

From what Isabella told me, the academy handed over a boatload as compensation for grilling the Seven's Finger execs.

...Nah, more accurately, Professor Georgia yanked out a whole pillar's worth.

The academy's gotta be pissed—robbed in broad daylight—but what can they do? I did take down that exec. If they're salty, they should've handled it before Adella got kidnapped.

I was totally unapologetic. Hell, they should be thanking Professor Georgia for stepping in.

If it'd been me? One pillar wouldn't have cut it!

"...Huh? This is..."

Flipping through the new support cards, I spotted something unexpected sandwiched in the stack. Even protector-wrapped. My eyes went wide.

Heaven's Blessing. The absurd rare Maximilian Spinola whipped out before.

"...Why the hell is this here?"

Word was, even royalty struggles to snag one.

"That's the exact card Maximilian Spinola had, young master."

Isabella, standing beside me, stated it oh-so-matter-of-factly. The content? Anything but.

"...You stole it?"

"More precisely, the academy and Lilucania Kingdom stripped the Spinola family bare."

...Whoa, Isabella dropping lines like 'stripped bare'? Been a while.

"What went down?"

"The Spinola family's ties to Seven's Finger leaked. Lilucania's investigation traced it back to their ancestor, Valerian the Great."

Oh... Figures they were shady.

"So Lilucania took the family, academy snagged Maximilian's cards."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"They must've eyed Heaven's Blessing too."

"Probably, but hard to demand outright. It came from Seven's Finger cards, after all. Professor Georgia knew that and slipped it into the compensation."

Georgia... you magnificent bastard. Suddenly craving his lectures hard.

Academy and Lilucania must be fuming!

Anyway.

"Good work, Bell."

"I have no idea what you mean, but thank you, young master."

Isabella nodded innocently. As if she hadn't been the one feeding the Spinola dirt to Lilucania—specifically, Princess Daphne.

I ruffled her hair and flicked the Heaven's Blessing in my hand.

"Gotta put this good loot to use."

"Of course, young master. It's rightfully yours."

Her eyes sparkled, like she'd personally wreck anyone calling it unjust.

I chuckled and slotted in Heaven's Blessing plus the new cards to finalize the deck.

Time to head to class.

"Good morning, cadets."

Professor Georgia entered with his usual greeting. Face as un-good-morning as ever.

He glanced at the calendar, darkening his already gloomy vibe.

"...Lord have mercy, still Thursday?"

No volume control pretense anymore, prof. The students who'd been sneaking peeks at me all morning looked downright pitiful.

"Roll call first. Alexander Wales Belluraca."

"Oho! Here, professor!"

"Good. Use honorifics."

"Noted!"

Alexander bellowed a laugh, utterly un-noted. This routine'd feel off without it. Georgia started roll call proper.

Adella was MIA.

"Adella Rain Belluna... Adella Rain Belluna? Absent?"

His eyes flashed through limp bangs like seaweed.

A weird silence descended—then clacking footsteps, door swings open.

"Haaah~ haaah~. Um~ I'm here~."

Adella. Doubled over, catching her breath.

"...Close call. Too lazy to mark you late—be on time."

"Yesss~ sorry~."

She caught her breath, stuck out her tongue.

"Professor Georgia."

He eyed her, smirked.

"Got the name right this time. Sit."

"Yesss~."

Adella wobbled over on shaky legs, plopped beside me, hooked her arm in mine like it was natural.

Oh.

"...Quite close now, aren't we, Belluna?"

"Eek!"

Princess Alessia whispered, eyes blazing. Her stare could melt steel.

"Heh."

Adella squeezed my arm tighter.

"You saw right through us~ Alessia~."

Grinning like a pup who'd hogged the premium treats. Sparks flew from Alessia's eyes.

...Never more relieved this world runs on cards, not guns or blades!

"Attention."

Just as Alessia looked ready to go Superman on us, Georgia tapped the board.

"No classes for the next two weeks."

Light words, heavy bombshell.

"Because of the incident, professor?"

Eden asked stiffly as ever. Tension gleamed behind his glasses.

"Spot on. Security breach means decisive action."

"So..."

"Back to our territories?"

"Ah, ours is too far..."

"No."

Georgia cut the murmurs short.

"No guarantee Seven's Finger sits idle while you're scattering home. Academy can't babysit every road with asses on fire."

So. He tapped the board again, chalked big letters.

"While the academy puts out fires, you all head here."

"Battle Island...?"

"What's that, professor?"

"You know midterms are coming."

"Ah."

Sighs rippled. Kids and exams: instant hives.

"To protect you lot together and sub for midterms, we're holding a tournament."

"Called Battle Island," Eden nodded.

"Professor! Sounds island-based—right!?"

"Yes. Alexander. Honorifics."

"Noted!"

Georgia glanced off the un-noted muscle mass.

"The tournament—and island—Battle Island was designated by the founder archmage. Top-notch wards and infrastructure. Perfect shelter till academy sorts this."

"Safe from Seven's Finger!"

"Sweet! Was dreading the carriage trek home!"

Tournament replacing exams? Kids buzzed like it was a field trip.

I watched silently, muttering inwardly.

That's when brass always crashes the party—

Eh, whatever.

"Uahaha! I'll snag a ton of fish! BBQ party!!"

"During the tournament, Alexander...?"

"Eek!"

"Hunger waits for no tourney, Alessia!"

"...Never tried it. Tasty? Fish BBQ?"

"Damn right, Erhun! Witness Belluraca secrets!"

"Kingdom secret's grilling fish...?"

"Heh~ whatever~ tasty's all that matters~."

"Hmph."

"Hm? You want some too, Borromeo!"

"When did I—"

Raiders or not, I'd smash 'em anyway.

"You in, Bardi?!"

Alexander boomed. Eyes turned to me.

I smirked.

"Salmon for me."

Done deal.

After Georgia's briefing, we packed light and boarded carriages to Battle Island.

Two weeks, yet 'light'? Simpler answer: Federico Academy's exam ops were Spartan AF.

Per Georgia: Island's infra's plenty. Buy extras with BP from wins.

'Plenty' meant camping for nobles—gripe city. I'd crashed on dirt plenty, so no biggie, but still surprising.

Makes sense: This shindig stemmed from academy incompetence, rushed schedule.

Yet they picked the noble-complaint magnet? Odd.

"Parental pressure, apparently."

"Pressure?"

Isabella explained flatly as ever.

"Yes. To parents, crime boss invaded school, kids at risk. To nobles? Opportunity."

"Ah. Face, honor. That jazz?"

"Precisely, young master."

Her lip quirked—pride, and a jab at other nobles.

"Bardi County ain't behind, but to them, you're just local stock, freshman."

"Yup. Provincial noble kid."

"Yet you wield dragon cards, solo'd a continent-notorious crime exec."

"So the bigwigs need face-saving glory for their kids?"

"Yes. Hence, a stage for great honor. And..."

She raised a finger.

"The tougher, the better."

"'Our kid conquered this hell!' Titles like that."

"Exactly. Though surpassing you? Impossible."

She puffed her chest. Her flat pride-face radiated unshakeable faith in my win.

Same here.

"We're here."

"Quick."

Two hours? Short haul from inland to port. Carriages, not cars.

Magic-beast world: Mages pulled 'em, roads butter-smooth even by 21st-century standards.

Magic ftw.

Tap-tap. Something knocked the window. Isabella opened it: Funnel-beaked bird-beast with beady eyes.

Chatterbox Flicker. Eden's used one before.

Door opened to its racket. Ground felt fresh underfoot after ages. Sea breeze wafted: faint fish and salt creeping in.

Sea.

Been a while.

Bardi lands inland. Post-war past life? No sea runs—radiation blobs anyway.

Over 20 years for another look. Pristine emerald waves. Old voices danced on the surface.

"War ends, Busan for grilled clams?"

"You buying, junior?"

"Nah, Dutch. You know my private's pay."

I gazed, sentimental. Silent. Isabella stood quietly behind.

Not just her anymore—

"Rii~ca~r~do~."

Adella hugged my waist, rubbing her face. Puppy-sniffing-owner style.

Face a mess. Seasick, duh.

"Huuuuh...."

"First time seeing skinship and orbit at once, Adella."

"Haven't... puked yet... puking...."

...'Yet'?

"I'll assist."

"Euuugh~."

Isabella thumped her back coolly. Ice-magic bowl under chin.

"Oh? The sea. Unique aroma."

Alessia, chill as ever. Made Adella look pathetic.

"And you, Lord Bardi?"

She swept golden locks. Fiery eyes locked on.

"Not bad."

Sea charm's in the vibe, not the water.

Solo? Meh. But.

"Uahaha! Sea! Blood's pumping at this view!!"

"Eek!"

"Wah... so much water..."

"Hmm, port bustle's striking."

"Hmph, sweat stench carries."

Plenty of company now.

I smirked.

"Nah, pretty damn good."

"Is it."

Alessia smiled richly, matching her flair.

"Then I can look forward too?"

Competitive glint in her crimson eyes. I nodded.

"Island arrival, first duel?"

"Lacks mood."

She stepped close. Rose-intense scent overpowered salt.

"You teased me so—you owe a climax showdown."

Ah, finals match then. Wording's spicy!

I started nodding—then a feathery whisper tickled.

"My, bold words, Princess Alessia."

Lunar smile, dreamy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠purple hair and eyes. Lilucania's Daphne.

"'Teased' not enough—'climax' too? In public, a lady saying such explicit things."

Oof.

Air held its breath.