On Duty (3): Midnight Inspection
The castle wall manned by 3rd Company overlooked the northern direction. From up top, you could see the expansive mines that produced low-grade ore. Compared to the other mines, it was way down the list in terms of importance.
But a watch was a watch. Once a soldier received an order, they had to carry it out properly regardless of priority. Even if some duty officer like me snuck up on them, they were supposed to spot it and sound the alert.
And right now, I was right under the 3rd Company's castle wall outpost.
Gary had mentioned a spot where the bricks stuck out. It was pitch black at night, hard to make out with the eyes. I groped the stone wall with my hands and feet. Sure enough, there were bricks protruding enough to step on and climb in a few places.
I carefully placed my foot on one. Scrape—sand or stone dust ground under my boot. I froze, holding my breath and scanning the surroundings. All quiet. No movement from the outpost above.
This time, I reached up and found a brick higher. Just in case, I brushed off the sand with my hand to minimize noise. Step by step, grip by grip, I scaled the wall.
Still no activity at the outpost. Weren't they supposed to pace around during watch to loosen up stiff muscles? Probably one of two things: either they were standing at full attention by the book, or slacking off for a nap.
Hup—almost there. I peeked my head over the edge to check the outpost.
One guy had his helmet off, slumped in a chair with his head down. The other stood at attention, alternating glances over the wall and down the right-hand stairs.
Sleeper was probably the senior private, stander the junior private. Classic: senior dumps everything on the rookie and crashes.
I got it. Been there myself. Not every watch can be perfect; sometimes you gotta cut corners. But not when you get caught.
I vaulted onto the wall. Total breach. Watch failure.
But they still hadn't noticed me. Senior was out cold, junior fixated front and flank.
I deliberately moved toward the brazier. My long shadow stretched into the junior's view.
"Gah!" The junior startled and looked my way. He froze, then snapped to and tried to wake the senior.
"Freeze."
My word locked him in place. His eyes shook wildly through his helmet slit.
I walked slowly toward the outpost. Then channeled mana into my finger and jabbed the sleeping senior's head. Zap—static shock, eyes flew open.
"Wh-what?! ...Pl-platoon leader?"
"Hey."
"Wh-what brings you here...?"
"You kidding? Drop and give me twenty."
"Drop!"
The senior hit the deck on command. The junior started to follow, but I waved him off.
"Junior Private... name again?"
"Neon, ma'am!"
"You keep watch."
"Y-yes, ma'am!"
I pulled up the chair the senior had been using and sat, scanning the outpost. Gear presumed to be the senior's littered the floor. Not dozing off by accident mid-watch. This was premeditated comfort.
If the senior was like this, what about the junior? First shift, he said—did he even know the drill?
"Junior Private."
"Junior Private Neon!"
"What's the first thing you do when you enter the outpost for a shift change?"
"...Uh."
"Senior, up and explain."
The senior pushed up and spoke right away. "First thing when entering the outpost is to log the duty journal."
"Correct. Back down."
"Drop!"
I laid him out and turned back to the junior. "What ore comes from the mine to the left?"
"I-iron ore, ma'am."
"Right. What's the expected enemy infiltration route to that mine?"
"Uh... um..."
"Senior, up."
Senior rose. I pointed at the mine again. "Expected enemy route to that mine?"
"......"
"......"
"I-I know it! Just caught me off guard... I'll remember quick!"
Senior babbled excuses. I waited, arms crossed—go ahead, try.
He blinked furiously, scrambling to recall. "Ah, ah! The valley flowing toward the unit... and the cliff above it are expected infiltration routes."
"One more."
"Th-that..."
The mountain village beyond the hill. Closest to base, full of herbalists—lots of foot traffic. Unit sent knights regularly to check welfare and security. Perfect infil spot if enemies hid nearby.
And it never came out of the senior's mouth.
"Hoo..."
My sigh made them both shiver. A chill wind picked up, right on cue.
"Senior Private."
"Senior Private Lendo!"
"Junior Private."
"Junior Private Neon!"
"Listen up and memorize."
I explained the last route. Senior furrowed his brows like he'd just remembered; junior repeated it under his breath to lock it in.
"Next watch... no, starting now, shape up."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Gear on too."
"Got it!"
I watched senior fumble his helmet back on, then stood. Waved goodbye and headed down the stairs.
A bit stuffy, but a solid patrol... Or so I thought.
"Hey, asshole. You should've checked properly."
"...Sorry."
Faint voices. Blame pouring one-way.
A little irritating, but I let it slide. Humans gonna human—always shoving blame. Military life's full of rank BS; you endure it.
And the senior should've stopped there.
"Ugh!"
"Ugh my ass, you fuck..."
Clear as day. Violence. Boot to shin.
I leaped back up. Senior mid-swing at the junior.
"Your fault I got on the princess's shitlist. What now?"
"S-sor..."
"Sorry end service? You little shit—urk!"
I grabbed his collar and yanked. He hit the ground inverted, gnashing teeth and springing up.
"Fuck, who—! ...Pr-princess?!"
Face drained white. Remembering his big mouth.
"That the rook's fault just now?"
"N-no, I... Princess—no, 3rd Platoon Leader. It's not..."
"Your shitty grasp of duties and attitude, that's why."
You fucking bastard.
I got back to the admin office after the next shift change. Couldn't leave till I knew that senior wouldn't pull more crap on the rook.
"Why so late?"
"Had reasons."
Iwan shut up at my icy tone.
Before explaining, I sent the junior back to barracks.
"Senior, prone plank."
"Drop!"
"...What happened?"
Finally briefed Iwan and Gary. They stared at the senior's skull as I spilled.
Wonder how hot that feels. One grunt endure three knights' glares?
Whatever—self-inflicted.
Then.
"Troops holding watch okay?"
Company commander—duty CO—dropped by admin.
"For Rosenhardt. Sir."
"3rd Platoon Leader, how's duty? Manageable?"
"Getting by."
"Good."
He smiled, pleased. "Iwan, why the wide eyes?"
"Knew you'd show today, held out."
"Bull. Wipe that drool."
"Huh?"
Iwan wiped his mouth frantically. No drool—of course. Commander tested him; he bit.
Idiot.
"Gary'll handle his... and this?"
Commander's gaze hit the planking senior. I recapped again.
Now four stares bored into that skull.
"Up."
Senior rose, face beet-red from exertion. Or shame.
"I'll take him to command post."
"Yes, sir."
"Carry on."
Senior trudged off like a condemned man in the commander's grip.
Dawn broke. Reveille blared; base stirred from silence.
"Nngh..."
Made it through. Worried about my period, but that moron made a perfect stress ball.
Morning roll call under duty CO done. End in sight—just report anomalies to the clerk when he arrives.
Normally to company commander, but he's duty CO, so clerk it is.
And the awaited clerk showed.
"Yo, no issues?"
"Not entirely."
"...What?"
Told him about the company commander hauling off a grunt. Clerk's eyes glazed halfway.
"Transfer one grunt out."
Likely. Assault on subordinate—not staying in the company.
"Clerk. What's that you're carrying?"
"Oh? Ran into a courier on the way—recognized me, asked to deliver. Letter."
"For who?"
"Iwan."
Unexpected. Iwan took it, checked sender.
"Oh...! Reply! A reply!"
"What."
Actual response from his childhood friend—the flower bouquet girl!
Me and Gary crowded behind. Clerk sidled up, curious.
Iwan gulped, tore it open.
And.
Iwan,
I've been thinking about your confession all day. I'm really sorry, but...
Me, Gary, clerk eased away from Iwan. His shoulders slumped endlessly.
Clerk muttered, barely audible.
"That punk's getting interest knight duty."