Chapter 63
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Makstri
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“What?”
News of Demian's transfer spread through the Kaion Unit in an instant.
“Demian!”
Dianal, who had been in the middle of personal training, shouted as he ran into the barracks.
To think the guy who'd always addressed him formally as Deputy Commander since joining the Kaion Unit would be this worked up.
Demian, who was packing his things, looked at Dianal.
“What's wrong?”
“You're transferring units. Is that true?”
“Ah, that's what happened.”
“That's what happened?”
Dianal's eyes blazed at Demian's casual remark, as if it were nothing.
*Thump, thump.*
“That's what happened? Is that all you have to say?”
Dianal angrily grabbed Demian by the collar.
For a moment, Demian considered swatting Dianal's arm away.
But he just let the guy do as he pleased.
Because he knew why Dianal was reacting this way.
*‘He hasn't changed a bit.’*
No, this was how he'd always been.
It was also why they had been able to grow close.
*Pfft.*
“Are you laughing? You find this funny?”
Demian replied to Dianal's words.
“What I'm about to tell you is off the record.”
“Off… what?”
“It's a secret. Something that needs to be kept under tight security.”
“…What is it?”
The grip on his collar seemed to loosen slightly.
Demian continued right away.
“The Commander nominated me as his successor. This is part of a test from the Corps Commander. Transferring to this unit is that test.”
“The, the Commander?!”
Dianal gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth in shock.
After a moment of glancing around, Dianal asked Demian.
“So what are you supposed to do after transferring?”
“I'll have to find that out when I get there… Whatever happens, when I come back, I'll be the commander of this Kaion Unit.”
“…Ah.”
“Ah? I'm the one who should be asking if that's all you have to say.”
“…What do you mean?”
“So who do you think will take the vacant Deputy Commander position? Should we draw lots for it?”
“…”
In that instant, a spark ignited in Dianal's eyes.
He had understood exactly what Demian was saying.
Demian lightly shook off Dianal's hand, which was still gripping his collar.
Then, he straightened his clothes and spoke.
“When I get back, if you're still at the same level, I won't even acknowledge you, so be prepared. I might be seriously disappointed.”
“…When will you be back?”
“A year at the latest.”
Demian's gaze grew sharp.
“I'll be back within a year, so work yourself to death until then.”
“…I get it. No, I understand.”
Dianal replied with a determined expression.
“Glory to the kingdom.”
He made a fist with his right hand and placed it over his left breast.
In response.
“Glory to the kingdom.”
Demian returned the salute with the same gesture.
And with that, Demian left for Makstri.
And then.
“…”
Dianal, who had been watching Demian leave, turned around.
With a resolute look, Dianal approached Leonhard.
“Instructor.”
“What is it? It should be personal maintenance time.”
“I want to become stronger. Please show me how.”
“…?”
What was this all of a sudden?
But seeing the serious look in Dianal's eyes, the corners of Leonhard's mouth lifted.
“It will be very difficult. Can you handle it?”
“I can. No, I will endure it no matter what.”
At those words, Leonhard stood up and said.
“If you give up halfway, would you be fine with me transferring you back to your original unit?”
“I don't mind!”
Dianal shouted.
Then, Dianal recalled the words Demian had left him with.
*—So who do you think will take the vacant Deputy Commander position? Should we draw lots for it?*
*Grip.*
Dianal's eyes shimmered with determination.
Leonhard then said.
“Bring your weapon and come to the training ground.”
Leonhard's expression was a little more flushed than usual.
This was why he couldn't quit teaching.
Every now and then, guys like this would pop up.
I wonder about this one…
*‘How long will he last?’*
He was already starting to smile.
***
The eastern front of the Baroque Kingdom.
The town where the kingdom's most intense battles were being fought.
Arriving there, Demian saw a soldier who had come out to guide him.
“Are you Demian?”
“Yes. Your unit and name?”
“Directly under the 6th Corps, 3rd Division. I'm Tairen.”
The soldier, introducing himself as Tairen, offered Demian a handshake.
Demian lightly took his hand and said.
“What's the current situation here?”
“Well… it's always the same. We're constantly fighting over a gold mine. It seems the Iren Kingdom is determined to keep sending in soldiers to try and harvest it.”
“So, I take it the gold mine is currently in the Iren Kingdom's hands.”
“Yes.”
It was a cycle of taking and being taken from, anyway.
But even with that pattern, ownership was currently mostly on the Iren Kingdom's side.
“We're running short on time. If we can't secure the gold mine within the next month, it will fall completely into the Iren Kingdom's hands.”
“…Is there a rule like that?”
“Yes. If a side captures the gold mine and holds it for three months, they gain full ownership.”
“Then why doesn't the kingdom send in elite troops?”
“Because it's not worth that much to us. The Iren Kingdom is the one that wants the gold mine; we're not that desperate for it.”
They just needed a place to control these people.
Demian asked Tairen.
“In that case, the Iren Kingdom's forces must be much stronger… How have you been able to capture the gold mine every three months?”
That was what he was most curious about.
This side was filled with criminal scum.
In contrast, the Iren Kingdom had its own elite soldiers.
Yet this fight had been going on for years. How was that possible?
The answer was simple.
“When the three-month mark approaches, we throw all our forces at the gold mine.”
“…Pardon?”
“After pushing them all in and most of them are killed, the main force stationed on the outskirts of Makstri takes the mine.”
And once the number of criminals was replenished, the main force would withdraw, and the criminals would be thrown back into the Makstri battlefield.
“…”
So, every three months, the criminals here were fated to die if they couldn't retake the gold mine.
But Tairen…
“Haha, but about 10% of them somehow manage to scrape by and survive. The one who's been here the longest has already lasted over three years.”
It was only for a moment, but he felt a wave of nausea.
Demian then followed Tairen toward the Makstri unit's base.
*Thump, thump.*
“This is the base. There's no official unit name; you can just call it the Makstri Unit.”
“I see.”
As he entered the base, he saw the other men.
And they, too…
“…What's this, a new guy?”
“Sigh, don't bother. If he lasts a week, we can ask his name then.”
At the sight of a new face, the men muttered amongst themselves.
Tairen then said.
“The atmosphere here is a bit like this. Please try to understand. I'll introduce you properly later.”
“…Alright.”
Demian looked around, taking in the state of the base.
There wasn't a single proper barracks.
Just temporary tents made of cloth and poles.
That was their home.
Moreover, the so-called base was just a wall made of logs, and since it was filled with criminals instead of soldiers, there was no discipline to speak of.
*‘They can't even escape because of the soldiers stationed outside Makstri.’*
It brought back a lot of old memories.
But this situation was different from back then.
The Makstri of the past, one he didn't know, was now his reality.
“Here we are.”
Demian was soon assigned to an empty tent.
“Someone was using this until a few days ago, but from now on, it's yours, Sir Demian. If you have any questions or need anything, please let me know. I'll get you whatever I can. And… for now, please unpack. I'll introduce you to the soldiers in about an hour.”
Regardless, Demian had come here as the commander of the Makstri Unit.
Though he wasn't sure what difference one commander would make.
“Well then, please rest.”
Tairen gave a slight smile and left the tent.
Left alone, Demian looked at the small tent.
“…”
It was only large enough for three or four adult men to lie down in.
This was the space where Demian would be living from now on.
And just then.
“…Weren't they just going to leave me alone?”
Demian turned his head toward the presence he felt behind the tent.
But soon.
“Right, better to get the beating over with quickly… It's better than them bothering me while I'm trying to sleep.”
Demian picked up a wooden stick lying inside the tent.
And then.
*Swoosh.*
Demian stepped outside and saw them.
The kind of guys you could find anywhere.
A swaggering posture and the confidence that only comes with numbers.
Demian burst out laughing at the sight.
In response.
“Hey, you find something funny?”
“Is there a reason I shouldn't?”
Demian said, casually resting the stick in his hand on his shoulder.
At his words, the man cackled and said.
“Lookin' at that luggage of yours, seems like you got some nice stuff in there. Let's open 'er up and share whatever's good. We're gonna be seein' a lot of each other.”
The one who appeared to be the leader of the group pointed at Demian's luggage, visible inside the tent.
But…
“…See a lot of each other? You guys look like you'll be dead in a few days.”
“What'd you say?”
“This bastard's got a sharp tongue. Do you even know where you are?”
Another man next to him threatened Demian.
Demian waved his hand dismissively, as if annoyed.
“Just get on with it and leave. Ten, no, twelve of you. I wonder what you think you can get from me, coming with twelve people.”
“Hehehehehe, this one's lost all his fear.”
He was tired of these conversations.
Demian looked at the man in front of him and said.
“I'll make the first move. I want to get some rest.”
With those words.
*Fwip!*
Demian launched himself at the group.
***
“Oho, Hemus. Still alive, are we?”
Hemus frowned at the sudden appearance of Tairen.
Wasn't he one of those regular army bastards who had it easy, just kicking back on the outskirts of Makstri?
*‘Should've just pretended he didn't see me and walked by… son of a bitch.’*
He'd hidden inside his tent on purpose.
But the guy had to crawl inside and strike up a conversation.
“Hehehe, just lucky, I guess. But what brings you here?”
Seeing a guy who rarely came around made him feel uneasy for no reason.
To Hemus's question, Tairen replied.
“There's a new commander. I'm going to introduce him, so gather everyone.”
Even here, an invisible hierarchy of sorts existed.
The long-term survivors forming the core of factions was, in a way, a natural phenomenon in Makstri.
But with Tairen's words.
“…You don't mean that young-looking kid you were walking with to that tent over there earlier, do you?”
“Hm, you already saw him?”
“He's the commander?”
“Yes.”
Hemus's face instantly went pale.
“Is… is he a regular… soldier?”
“That's right. He just got promoted to Sergeant for a medal of honor. But why do you ask?”
“Oh, damn it.”
Hemus shot up from his seat.
To the men here, a regular soldier was practically nobility.
Mess with one, and you wouldn't even leave bones behind.
Tairen's expression hardened at Hemus's reaction.
“Don't tell me…”
“We didn't know he was a regular! I swear!”
He just thought it was another guy who'd been rotting in a cell, same as usual.
Tairen said.
“We'll deal with this as a disciplinary matter later. For now… hurry!”
Tairen and Hemus rushed toward Demian's tent.
If his memory served him right, he was talking about the dozen or so men who were heading for Demian's tent earlier…
*‘Damn it.’*
He had a feeling things were getting complicated right from the start.
But when Tairen and Hemus arrived at Demian's tent.
“…Didn't you say you'd be back in an hour?”
They saw Demian squatting in front of a line of prisoners who were on their hands and knees with their heads to the ground.