Chapter 71
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: A Commander's Resolve
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A month had passed since they retook the base.
During that time, Demian had focused on just two things.
Training the archers and improving the physical fitness of the entire unit.
Whether in a siege or a defense, stamina was the absolute foundation of warfare.
The battlefield was a place of crushing pressure, where people killed and were killed.
Just stepping onto it drained more than an ordinary amount of energy.
Those with weak stamina would be gasping for air after just a few swings of a sword.
Therefore, ice-cold judgment, mental fortitude, and unwavering, steel-like stamina were essential on the battlefield.
“Gasp… gasp… gasp…!”
“Don’t open your mouths! Breathe in deep through your noses! And exhale in short bursts through your mouths!”
“Yessir! Hah… hah…!”
A mere thirty minutes.
But in those thirty minutes, without a single exception, every man wore an expression that said he was about to die.
No, some had already collapsed to the ground, crawling like dogs.
Stop, and you die.
That was the threat Demian had made.
“Stop!”
“Ugh!”
“Aargh!”
“Gods, I’m dying!”
At Demian’s shout, the unit members all collapsed to the ground, chests heaving.
A few of the squad leaders, likely out of pride, didn't sit down.
“Hah… hah… hah….”
They rested their hands on their knees, shoulders rising and falling heavily.
Demian approached the 1st Squad Leader and poured water over his head.
“How are you holding up?”
“I think… I’m going to die. Ugh!”
After the stamina training, more than half of them would vomit.
The 1st Squad Leader fought back the nausea and straightened his back.
“What in the world is this training…?”
It was unlike any training he had ever received.
“Do all regular army soldiers train like this?”
“No, not all of them. It’s… a training method for a very small number of elites, you could say.”
“Training for elites…?”
The physical training Demian implemented was what was known as interval training.
It was the training he had received from Leonhard in the past.
Slowly for a short period, then a full-out sprint.
They repeated these two phases, with the sprint sometimes lasting from one to three minutes depending on the situation.
But during the slow run, which was almost a walking pace, it was essential to rest as much as possible and regulate their breathing.
And by repeating this irregularly, the heart was pushed to its absolute limit.
In the process, their cardiac and pulmonary functions were strengthened immensely.
‘In the end, you need stamina to survive.’
As proof, the men’s complexions had noticeably improved recently.
Train hard, and eat well.
Though only these two things had changed, the men had already built a foundation comparable to that of regular soldiers.
The 1st Squad Leader looked at Demian, who was watching the unit members.
He had a feeling that if he truly followed this man… something might change.
The 1st Squad Leader spoke to Demian.
“Um… Captain.”
“Speak.”
“If, and this is a big if… when the war here is over… can I go to your unit, Captain?”
“Why, planning to make a career out of the army?”
“No, well… if a guy like me gets out, what am I going to do but cause more trouble? I just thought that if I were under someone like you, Captain, I might stay out of trouble….”
“True. If anyone under my command causes trouble, I make them wish they were dead.”
The 1st Squad Leader flinched at the look in Demian’s eyes.
Demian continued.
“We’ll see how you all do. But for that to happen, we first need to take care of business here.”
“Yes, sir!”
The 1st Squad Leader answered loudly.
Demian then looked toward the collapsed unit members and said.
“This afternoon, it’s straight to formation and archery training. Be ready so there are no delays.”
“Understood!”
As he turned away, Demian recalled what the 1st Squad Leader had just said.
—When the war here is over… can I go to your unit, Captain?
“…”
These men were criminals.
But hadn’t he himself committed his fair share of misdeeds in the past, just like them?
He wasn’t one to believe people could change, but.
‘If they were given just one chance….’
Wouldn’t some of them be able to change?
Of course, they still had to pay for their crimes.
His thoughts growing a bit complicated, Demian returned to his barracks and flopped onto his bed.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t had a proper rest since arriving here.
“Hoo.”
Just two months.
He had been sent to Maxtree for a rather contrived reason, but his life here wasn’t bad.
Above all, watching the unit members gradually change, as if seeing a reflection of his former self, was quite satisfying.
Still.
“I’ll have to give the one who sent me here a proper payback.”
In a way they couldn't ignore.
And at that same moment.
“A-achoo!”
As Kiaren was signing a document, she suddenly let out a loud sneeze, causing Edmon, who was beside her, to tilt his head.
“Have you caught a cold?”
“No, it just came on suddenly. Ah, why is my ear so itchy too?”
“It seems someone is speaking ill of you, Corps Commander.”
“Who would have the gall?”
Kiaren’s eyes widened. But Edmon just shrugged.
“People will say anything when you’re not around. So please, be a little nicer to the soldiers under you. Don’t scold them so much.”
“When did I ever scold them?”
“And be a little nicer to me, too.”
Taking the document, Edmon gave a small smile.
“I’ll be on my way, then.”
After Edmon left.
“...Is that so?”
Kiaren found herself reflecting on her own behavior.
***
—You… must live… happily.
—No! No! Noooooo!
The last image of a woman bleeding to death.
Fwoosh!
—Which bastard set this fire!
Thwack!
—Gyaaaaaah!
—S-spare me! Please… I was wrong. I was wrong about everything…!
Men lying dead inside the burning shop.
A man on his knees, begging.
But none of it mattered.
The moment she died, my world collapsed.
“…”
The 3rd Squad Leader, who had been trying to sleep, slowly opened his eyes.
That dream again.
A memory seared vividly into his mind.
He tried to sleep, but slumber wouldn’t come.
“…Hoo.”
The 3rd Squad Leader slipped out of the barracks, exhaling.
The cold night air seemed to clear his head.
As if by habit, he made his way to the archery training ground.
Before he knew it, the bow he used every day was in his hand.
“Hoo….”
Taking a short, deep breath, the 3rd Squad Leader took an arrow and nocked it.
Flicker.
A torch, lit just enough to make the target visible.
But he paid it no mind, slowly drawing the bowstring as he gazed at the target.
And…
Creeak.
When the drawn string grew taut, he held his breath and released it.
Twang!
Whoosh! Thud!
The arrow flew and struck, making the target shudder.
It had been a month now.
Not a single day had passed that the 3rd Squad Leader didn't continue his personal training like this, every night after the official training ended.
“Hoo….”
He raised his head, looking at the sky with his left eye.
The moon was particularly bright tonight, a good night for training.
After loosing a few more arrows, the chaos in his mind seemed to settle a little.
Grip.
He looked down at the bow in his hand.
Had he ever in his life been so engrossed in something?
“…”
A feeling he had never experienced before.
He was learning for the first time that immersion could be so enjoyable, so thrilling.
‘Perhaps….’
This could be what frees him from his nightmares.
When he first arrived here, he had thought he might as well die.
In fact, most of the large scars on his body were from this very battlefield.
But his will to live was tenacious; despite suffering such grave injuries, he had stubbornly survived.
Just as she had told him to keep living.
‘Do I… deserve to live?’
The guilt of failing to protect her still weighed heavily on his heart.
The 3rd Squad Leader raised his bow again.
In the moments he was shooting, it felt as if everything around him turned white.
As if he were the only person in the world.
Thump! Thump!
The sound of arrows striking the target echoed late into the dawn.
“…”
And Demian was watching the 3rd Squad Leader, saying nothing.
***
The days for the Maxtree unit were always the same.
Mornings were spent on brutal physical training that nearly tore their souls from their bodies, and afternoons were dedicated to archery practice.
However, now that a month had passed, one thing had changed…
“Captain, I believe it’s possible to form an archer unit of about thirty men.”
“Are their skills decent enough?”
“Yes. With a little more training, I think they’ll be able to shoot even while on the move.”
At the 3rd Squad Leader’s report, Demian nodded.
For the past month, the 3rd Squad Leader had not only trained himself but had also scouted out men with a talent for archery and begun training with them.
Thanks to him, Demian now had a better card to play than he’d expected.
Demian nodded.
“Good. From now on, you will command the archer unit. Stop spending your time overseeing everyone else and focus solely on the archers.”
“Understood.”
“And one more thing.”
“…Yes?”
The 3rd Squad Leader, who had been turning to leave, flinched and looked back at Demian.
Demian pointed to the long bangs covering the right side of his face.
“Isn’t that stuffy? I don’t know what kind of scar it is, but a wound or two is hardly a flaw around here.”
“…It’s fine.”
“If you say so.”
“Was there anything else you needed?”
“No, you can go.”
“Then I’ll be off.”
The 3rd Squad Leader bowed respectfully and departed.
Demian watched him go with a thoughtful gaze.
Everyone in the world had a story, but Maxtree seemed to have more than its fair share of men with unique ones.
Among them, the 3rd Squad Leader stood out in particular.
A taciturn personality, he barely spoke.
Unlike the other prisoners, he possessed a diligence that made him quietly and steadfastly carry out any task given to him.
And then there was that scar on the right side of his face.
—It’s a burn scar. He never said how he got it… but it’s rather gruesome, so he keeps it covered.
“...Damn.”
He had thought he just needed to test himself.
After all, he had come here as a test for the captaincy of the Kaion Unit.
But the longer he spent here.
The more he got to know these men.
Demian felt a frustrating weight pressing on his chest.
The reason was simple.
The men here were so much like his past self.
Once the battle here was over, they would probably all be scattered.
They would be dragged off to some nameless backwater to perform hard labor, or become chess pieces on another battlefield, disappearing without a trace.
“Damn it. This is why I didn’t want to get to know them too well….”
But how could he just go through the motions?
Not after seeing them try so damn hard.
Demian immediately rose to his feet.
To handle this matter…
“It seems I have no choice but to meet with the Corps Commander.”
He didn’t know if a mere sergeant could get a meeting with a Corps Commander, but…
“Still, I have to try.”
As if he had made up his mind, Demian began to walk somewhere.