Chapter 59
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: The Heroic Private
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Thump!
Thump!
The sound of something large and thick knocking on the door echoed in my ears as I sat on my bed, fiddling with my guitar.
It was a knock rough enough to be considered rude, but the thought vanished the moment I remembered who was on the other side of the door.
This was probably him knocking as politely and gently as he possibly could.
“Come in.”
I set the guitar aside, slowly got up from the bed, and approached the table where the teacups were placed.
Soon after, a massive forearm that looked like it could easily crush a person's head like tofu grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.
A huge, brawny back bent slightly to pass through the small door before straightening up. I could hear his uniform straining, stretching slightly with the movement of his massive back.
He wore white cotton gloves to hide the fact that he had a prosthetic arm, but the scattered reflections of light between the glove and his cuff kept catching my eye.
“Salute.”
Rex greeted me with a crisp salute, as always.
“You're in uniform?”
I said this instead of a greeting as soon as I saw Rex. Rex answered my question without lowering his salute.
“Well, yes. This isn't the battlefield.”
Rex had a somewhat reluctant expression. Two thoughts instantly crossed my mind.
The first was the extremely common-sense thought: shouldn't you wear thicker clothes on the battlefield?
The second was the extremely rude thought: ‘An orc in a uniform…?’
…How hipster.
The combination of the dwarves' intricate mechanical prosthetic and his wild, muscular physique already created a certain dissonance, making Rex look quite the hipster. But add to that a flamboyant, medieval-style military uniform, and his hipster level had just gone critical.
An orc.
A race that always goes shirtless, carries a huge weapon on their back, and cries out for nothing but honor.
A race of exposure and wildness, who don't care if blood and flesh spatter their bodies and, if they wear clothes at all, only cover their vital parts with leather garments.
And a member of that race was now saluting me, wearing a massive uniform adorned with a plethora of medals and useless decorations. With one arm being mechanical, no less.
“…Salute.”
Suppressing the tens of thousands of rude questions bubbling up inside me, I gave a clumsy salute to let him lower his hand.
“Please, have a seat.”
I led him to the orc-sized chair I had prepared before inviting him. Thanks to its size, about double that of a human's, Rex could sit comfortably and lift his teacup.
…Now that I see it, I should have prepared an appropriately sized teacup for an orc as well. The large cup, half the size of my face, looked smaller than an espresso cup in Rex's hands.
“How's the wound on your back?”
“It's healed enough that I could go into battle right now. Thanks to the skilled priests.”
Rex flexed the brawny arm muscles hidden beneath his uniform, as if to show there were no lingering effects.
…I know it would never happen, but seeing such massive arm muscles up close, the thought that this orc could crush my head like tofu at any moment keeps crossing my mind.
“How is the new artifact you acquired? Do you like it?”
“…It's more versatile than I deserve. It felt quite tricky to handle at first, but thankfully, once I got the hang of it, I was able to adapt quickly.”
Rex explained, patting his chest over his uniform.
I'm still clumsy at handling the red crystal, but for a natural-born warrior like Rex, it seems to be no big deal.
“I'm glad you like it.”
“The only strange thing is that I feel a bit hungrier. I'm eating about three times as much as usual. At first, I thought my body was just demanding more food temporarily to heal the wound, but my appetite hasn't decreased even after I fully recovered.”
“Powerful artifacts always come with a drawback commensurate with their effect. But… you don't need to worry. As long as you eat well, there won't be a problem.”
One of the many advantages of the artifact Rex obtained is that its price is ridiculously insignificant compared to its power.
There are many artifacts with absurd costs, like paying with your lifespan or losing your hearing, so merely eating more is more than a tolerable price.
“…I apologize for saying so, but I don't think it's such a simple matter. On the battlefield, supplies don't always arrive on time. Enduring for a long time on scarce rations is an important virtue for a warrior.”
Rex countered my optimistic attitude with a stern expression.
“Well… I suppose that's true.”
Rex wasn't wrong. This world isn't a game where you can pull out bread that never spoils from an infinite inventory whenever you want.
…He wasn't wrong, but did he have to be so serious about it?
This orc is just too serious.
“Ahem, well. Let's get to the main point. You're aware that because I'm still learning, I must always be accompanied by Sir Alter and Rireu, correct?”
“I am.”
“There are three mages to protect. Even for you, Rex, protecting all three of us without issue would be difficult, wouldn't it? It would be good to have at least one more frontline fighter suitable for Vellaland's standards.”
With just Rex, the party's balance was off. With three mages and only one frontline fighter, the probability of being unable to handle a sudden ambush or an unexpected variable was too high.
We needed more frontline fighters to compensate for the mages' weaknesses—their poor agility and survivability.
To form an ideal party, we should also include a ranger or an assassin with excellent scouting abilities, but….
“What about Trian? Lady Rireu seems quite shy, so wouldn't it be less burdensome for her to have a familiar face around?”
“His tracking skills are good, but his combat power is lacking.”
I felt bad for Trian, but to be frank, his skills weren't enough to pull his own weight in Vellaland.
He seemed to struggle just to pierce the skin of the spider monsters in the Akilliptus Forest Zone.
Of course, I had to acknowledge his excellent guiding and observation skills, born from the vast experience unique to elves, but if the arrows he shot couldn't damage the enemy, he wouldn't be of much use on this battlefield.
“Furthermore, the force we need this time isn't a scout. As you know, Rex, there are three of us mages. We desperately need infantry to protect us.”
“If it's infantry you need, I know a talented one.”
“Is he skilled enough for Vellaland?”
“His current skills are excellent, of course, and he's brimming with potential.”
“Then please bring him. We need people who can protect us in a pinch.”
* * *
The week passed by incomparably faster than usual.
Rireu and I took one of the many empty rooms in the castle and trained every day to survive the dangerous battlefield ahead.
In my case, I focused on honing my sixth sense to handle the red crystal freely, while Rireu concentrated on casting her magic more nimbly and quickly than usual.
“P-Pleased to meet you! I am the director of the Continental Allied Forces' First Training Center…!”
After Alter's training sessions, Rireu and I received basic military training from a specially invited instructor… no, a training center director.
Until now, we had managed to cover for our clumsy movements with our talent alone, but the battlefield we were heading to was not a place where one could survive on magical talent alone.
“S-Since trench warfare is expected to be the primary form of combat! We will conduct a crash course focused on trench warfare within a week, and with a soldier's spirit, we will aim to complete the training perfectly, but if by any chance…!”
The director seemed to find the fact that he had to conduct basic military training for a general quite burdensome.
“What mages must do in trench warfare is….”
Unlike Alter's magic lessons, the director's training didn't stick in my head properly.
Thanks to being born with the bizarrely high stat of 20 Mana, learning magic wasn't that difficult, but military training was an entirely different domain.
I hadn't expected much anyway.
After all, since waking up in this body, I'd never once felt that my intelligence had particularly increased, except in the realm of magic.
“W-We would normally move on to physical training, but due to time constraints, we will skip it!”
…Thanks to the considerate curriculum and the director's astonishing military spirit to complete his mission no matter what, Rireu and I were able to learn the basic movements and the positions a mage should maintain in combat situations to some extent.
We only learned them, not mastered them, but… it was a hundred times better than being thrown onto the battlefield knowing nothing.
“Salute!”
And so, on the morning of our departure, after finishing our hasty preparations, Rex greeted me at the castle's main gate with a booming salute.
Behind him stood a male warrior with a greatsword as large as his own body strapped to his waist.
“Salute! I am Private Ad, assigned as General Bin's escort as of this moment!”
His greeting was so cheerful that it made me doubt whether this was truly the attitude of a private addressing a general.
…A private?
“How long have you been in the army?”
“I just finished basic military training yesterday!”
Hearing Ad's words, I couldn't help but look at Rex with an expression that demanded an explanation.
“Ad is a former adventurer with proven skills. He's a man full of justice who, while living as a wanderer, single-handedly protected an isolated village from mutants. He's probably more technically skilled than I am.”
“I was surprised when the offer came. To be the escort warrior for the genius mage who's the talk of the entire continent—isn't this a chance to become a hero? There was no reason not to take it. So I enlisted in the army right away, just as Rex suggested!”
“…He's a bit of a talker, but his skills are the real deal.”
“I finished the two-month basic training course in just three days, and the drill instructor said it was the third-fastest record ever! You'll have no choice but to acknowledge my skills soon, General!”
Perhaps because he'd been in the army for less than a week, Ad's way of speaking was not that of a soldier.
“My goal is to become a hero! I'm counting on you, General!”
…To think he could so thunderously spout a cringey line like ‘My dream is to be a hero’ right after we met.
I couldn't believe my eyes and ears.
“…Uh. Yes, salute.”
Ad seemed awkward returning to the attention position after his salute; his hand fumbled for a moment before landing at his side.
…Is it too harsh to tell a guy who's been in the army for less than a week, ‘This guy needs to go through basic drill training all over again’?
“Well then, I look forward to working with you!”
Watching him, the thought that he was a character designed to be loved by 80s Japanese game directors popped into my head.
Yes, Ad seemed less like a person and more like a character.
The way he casually spouted cringey words upon our first meeting made it hard to believe he was a living, breathing human like me.
The greatsword on his back was as large as a man's torso, and his spiky, chestnut-bur-like hair made him the very picture of a generic 80s ‘Hero’.
Just looking at this person made me realize once again what kind of world I'd been dragged into.
A medieval fantasy.
A narrow-minded, uniform world where things like diversity and originality don't exist.
A world where, as if one's profession is decided at birth, most orcs become barbarians, elves become rangers, and dwarves become blacksmiths.
I hate worlds like this.