Chapter 62
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Makstri
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Training with Leonhard after so long was…
‘…Exhausting.’
I thought I was going to die.
—No using mana during my training.
Leonhard, knowing Demian could use mana, laid down the rule before they even began.
Without mana, Demian's current level was, frankly, no better than an average soldier's.
His time grinding it out in the Neokalitz Unit had improved his stamina and strength, at least.
“Nnghhhhh!”
Demian strained with all his might to lift his body.
His arms, holding a large rock behind his head, trembled as a searing pain tore through his abdomen.
Poke!
Just then, Leonhard jabbed Demian in the side with the stick he was holding.
“Gah!”
Demian cried out, his body going rigid.
He was doing sit-ups with his legs hooked over a bar, holding a rock.
He was already past three hundred, but Leonhard still didn't seem satisfied.
“We'll finish when you've done a full five hundred. Don't start whining over something like this.”
“…Whining?”
“Compared to what's coming, this will feel like paradise. Stop talking and keep going.”
Leonhard focused the current Kaion Unit's training almost entirely on physical conditioning.
They were all skilled soldiers, but on a real battlefield, the pressure made one's body feel several times heavier than usual.
It felt like someone was tugging at your clothes from behind, and your feet stuck to the ground as if glued down.
That's why you needed stamina of steel to back you up.
He knew that only by not tiring could they break free from that pressure.
“You'll do double.”
“Nngghhh!”
The moment Demian's future post was decided, Leonhard subjected him to a grueling training regimen.
To go there, he had to be able to handle this level of training with ease.
And yet…
‘…It's a natural gift.’
Like a dry sponge soaking up water, Demian's abilities improved at an unbelievable rate the more he trained.
It was like watching a soldier train for the very first time.
Usually, soldiers who reached a certain level of mastery didn't 'grow' from ordinary training.
The reason was simple: a person's growth has its limits.
They might improve at a steep angle at first, but that curve would inevitably flatten out.
Eventually, it would stop completely, and they'd cease to grow.
Naturally, he had expected Demian's growth to be extremely gradual as well.
He might be young, but the performance he'd shown was superior to that of most veteran commanders.
But that wasn't all.
‘…Did he really accomplish all this with just his combat talent and his ability to use mana?’
It could only be described as a heaven-sent gift.
Of course, Leonhard made this assessment without knowing about Demian's countless past battlefield experiences or that his body had been completely reconstructed by Bard.
The immense growth in Demian's current stamina and strength was largely due to the 'blessing' bestowed by Bard.
But Leonhard, unaware of this, simply attributed everything to Demian's talent.
“Don't stop, keep moving! And don't clench your jaw! You might break your molars later!”
He was even cruel enough to put a gag in Demian's mouth.
“…Whoa, I could never do that.”
“Let's just shut up and do what we're told. If we get on his bad side, that could be us.”
Jerka and Kyle, who had grown closer recently, shook their heads as they watched Demian suffer.
They were already dying from their own workload, yet Demian was doing more than twice as much.
“…Still, seeing him pull it off is pretty amazing.”
Dianal, standing nearby, voiced his genuine admiration.
Just because you're ordered to do something doesn't mean you can.
If it had been him…
‘I probably would've collapsed from exhaustion already.’
There are some things willpower alone can't overcome.
But Demian, gag and all, didn't stop.
He was slow, but he didn't give up.
His ability was one thing.
‘Is his mental fortitude also impossible to catch up to…?’
Suddenly, he felt angry at himself for resting.
“…I'm going to run a little more.”
“Hey! You'll be dead during the afternoon training if you do that!”
Jerka shouted from behind him.
“…Maybe I should run a bit more too?”
As Kyle also got up and joined Dianal.
“…Ah, hell!”
Jerka, Terka, and the others grimaced and staggered to their feet, starting to run.
Seeing this, Leonhard, who had been training Demian, turned his head.
“…?”
Why are those guys suddenly running?
He soon figured out why.
“Heheheheheh.”
Was he supposed to believe the kid had engineered this outcome, too? It was easy to see connections where there were none, but…
‘Still…’
Leonhard was certain.
If this kid comes back from Makstri.
‘An incredible unit is going to emerge.’
Leonhard could only watch Demian with a satisfied expression.
* * *
“Hah… hah…”
“Is it mostly over?”
“Looks like they've retreated. Here, water.”
“Thanks.”
The soldier who took the canteen collapsed onto the ground and poured the water over his head to cool down.
It was lukewarm, so it wasn't refreshing, but it felt like it washed away some of the smell of blood.
Makstri.
A disputed territory on the Baroque Kingdom's eastern front, bordering the relatively small Iren Kingdom.
However, for a disputed territory, it had fairly level ground and a massive gold mine, making it a site of constant battle with the Iren Kingdom.
For the Iren Kingdom, it was a gold mine they could never lose for the sake of their national treasury, while the Baroque Kingdom couldn't bear to cede it to a nation less than half its size.
In a word, pride.
Thus, despite being an era of peace, it was the only place where small-scale battles occurred without a single day's pause.
“Damn it… Can't the higher-ups just figure it out themselves? How long do we have to keep up this insane charade?”
Hemus, who had survived three years in Makstri, cursed harshly.
It was easy to say three years, but surviving that long here was nothing short of a miracle.
Half of the men who came here died within six months.
Half of the remaining died within a year.
And the rest were typically dead within two years.
After roughly washing his face, Hemus helped up the junior soldier next to him.
The kid had been here for about a year, and they'd grown close. He didn't want to lose him.
“Don't you go dying on me.”
The only agreement the higher-ups had, if you could call it that, was to limit the number of personnel involved in the battles over the gold mine.
Otherwise, it could escalate into a full-scale war between the kingdoms.
From the Baroque Kingdom's perspective, the objective was simply to prevent the Iren Kingdom from taking the gold mine.
As the smaller kingdom, the Iren Kingdom had no choice but to begrudgingly accept the terms.
If it came to a large-scale war, they would surely lose.
The battle for the gold mine had been raging for years.
For the Baroque Kingdom, Makstri was quite a useful place.
Those sent to Makstri were usually felons who had committed serious crimes in the Baroque Kingdom.
Not soldiers, just criminals.
While each had their own story, most were irredeemable scum.
It was similar to the Neokalitz Unit in some ways, but it was an incomparably more dangerous and rotten place.
From the kingdom's standpoint, it had the advantage of dealing with uncontrollable criminals while managing them without spending any money.
If they died, so be it.
And if they happened to secure the gold mine in the process, it was a huge bonus.
Only the people here were left to fight a hellish struggle, day after day.
“…Let's go. We have to eat to fight again.”
Eat and fight, eat and fight.
Every day was a series of fierce battles, but they struggled on, doing whatever it took to survive.
* * *
An awards ceremony was held for the achievements at the 3rd Division's border garrison.
There was no grand event with the corps commander attending.
“Demian, step forward!”
Vincent called Demian's name in front of all the soldiers.
As Demian stepped onto the platform at the front of the training grounds, Vincent spoke loudly.
“For your actions against the invading Spenian Kingdom's forces at the 3rd Division's border garrison, where you attacked the enemy's rear, caused disarray, and took the head of an enemy commander, you are hereby promoted three ranks, from Private to Sergeant! You will also receive twenty gold and be allowed to choose one weapon from the corps armory.”
“Woooah!”
“Whoa! A special promotion! Is a three-rank jump even possible?”
“I don't know, but it's amazing either way. Wow… he's already surpassed me, and I've been in for four years.”
The members of the Kaion Unit watched Demian with admiration and applauded.
Among those who hadn't gone to the 3rd Division, some wore displeased expressions.
“I'll give it to him. Honestly... his skill wasn't human.”
“He deserves even more than that.”
Those who had seen Demian fight felt the reward was actually insufficient.
“Damn it, if I had gone, that award would've been mine.”
And at someone's mutter.
“Hey, cut the crap. If you'd gone, you would've gotten your head chopped off, you moron.”
Jerka sneered at the soldier.
The soldier bristled, about to say something.
“What, you want to go? You son of a bitch? I ought to rip your damn head off.”
“…”
Intimidated by Jerka's murderous aura, he couldn't say a word.
After Demian's award was presented, the others who had participated also received a reward of ten gold.
After the ceremony concluded.
“Demian, follow me.”
Vincent led Demian to his office.
It was time to have a conversation he had been putting off.
“…Is something wrong?”
Demian asked, sensing the unusually serious atmosphere.
Vincent sat down and let out a small sigh.
“First, I want to apologize.”
“…Sir?”
Vincent told Demian about the conversation he'd had with the 6th Corps Commander at the 3rd Division's border garrison.
As he listened, Demian looked at him with a slightly surprised expression.
“…Is that true?”
“I'm sorry. I wanted to appoint you as the captain of the Kaion Unit, but I was too hasty and ended up making things like this.”
He wished he could take it back.
“The corps commander's will was firm, so it couldn't be reversed.”
There was no stopping Demian's transfer to Makstri.
But that wasn't why Demian was surprised.
It was because Vincent had intended to make him the captain of the Kaion Unit.
In less than a month.
What had he seen in him to entrust him with such a heavy responsibility?
‘…He’s not the type of person to make a decision like that just to pass off the work.’
Having spent time with him, Demian had come to understand Vincent a little.
He wasn't the kind of man who would be captain of a place like this simply because it was an independent unit.
He was capable enough to hold a key position in a corps, at the very least.
So he was surprised that such a man had acknowledged him as a potential captain.
Demian then spoke.
“What am I to do in Makstri?”
“…You are to secure the gold mine for the kingdom and defend it.”
“The gold mine…”
Makstri was a place Demian knew… very well.
Of course it was.
After all, that was where he had started.
His past life.
After living like trash and committing crimes, he was dragged to Makstri when the age of war began.
‘Of course, back then I was fighting the Empire's bastards.’
Now, it was just a fight with the Iren Kingdom over a gold mine.
Nothing had changed.
Demian spoke.
“If I accomplish that, will I become the captain of the Kaion Unit?”
“Yes.”
Perhaps this decision.
Was something that could greatly accelerate what Demian wanted.
‘I thought it would take several years…’
Four years from now.
He had thought he just needed to achieve it before the age of war began.
‘I can achieve it much sooner.’
Creating his own unit.
Moreover, the Kaion Unit was a special independent unit composed of elites from various divisions.
‘It couldn't be more…’
Perfect.
Demian nodded.
“I'll go.”
To Makstri.