Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: A Life of Choices
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The Ironpole Empire had staked its all on the eastern front, even resorting to double-dealing deception.
Their purpose in igniting the war was to reclaim the ancestral territories seized over a century ago.
To put it simply, the fertile granary regions of the Coldwood Kingdom.
Occupy the capital first, then exchange it for the lands they desired.
A unheard-of strategy of seizing the enemy's territory by capturing their capital.
The plan pushed by the young emperor seemed, surprisingly, to be working.
Until 6th Legion Commander Christian Veil threw down his winning hand.
However, the legion commander's true aim was not the advance.
Which commander would choose to wither and die with their rear blocked off?
It was merely making the empire—or rather, the empire's young emperor—believe that.
Thus, they annihilated the strawman army in the Black Forest and crossed the border.
They plunged deep into the empire's heartland, deceiving even their own allies.
They simply halted their advance at the perfect moment and leisurely withdrew.
In the end, the young emperor couldn't withstand the pressure from the veteran commander's cunning ploy.
He committed the blunder of withdrawing the main force even when victory on the eastern front was within reach.
The empire lost its chance at victory.
The kingdom claimed a pyrrhic victory marred only by wounds.
A battle that profited neither side.
The war, which had only senselessly claimed lives, came to an end just like that.
"Do you know how many Sword Masters have existed in continental history?"
The farmer-turned-soldier who had shone in that very war.
Damian Winter remained in the east for some inexplicable reason.
"Twelve, as I recall."
To be precise, he was under the tutelage of Commander Mikhail Sobkov.
"Then, among those twelve, who was the strongest Sword Master?"
"That's not something I feel qualified to comment on."
"Good eye. What right does a mere fledgling Sword User have to debate the mightiest Sword Master?"
"......"
"Then let me rephrase. If two Sword Users of similar caliber clashed, who do you think would win?"
Sword Users of comparable level.
Damian answered cautiously.
"The one whose swordsmanship or martial arts hold the advantage in compatibility, and who has more experience, I suppose?"
He omitted factors like being lucky that day.
Or wearing better gear.
Such trivialities went unspoken.
"Precisely."
Clang!
The commander's greatsword struck without a trace of mana.
Yet it slammed heavily into Damian's Dawn.
"Victories are ultimately decided by the martial prowess steadily built up over time."
Clang!
"Mana control is vital, but you must never forget the fundamentals."
Claaang!
A spar devoid of any mana usage.
Yet the commander overwhelmingly dominated Damian.
Even mobilizing all the abilities he had absorbed so far fell short.
No, it was woefully inadequate.
"Do you get what I'm saying?"
"Don't get cocky just because you've tasted mana and lose sight of your roots, right?"
"Precisely. Types like you, who awaken sensitivity later in life, tend to go exactly that way."
The day he shattered the Iron Guard.
Commander Mikhail had made an intriguing offer first.
He would impart some guidance before Damian headed north.
'Honestly, I thought it would be lessons on mana manipulation.'
So he stayed.
But there were no teachings on mana as expected.
Instead, only training excluding mana usage was repeated.
'Still.'
It wasn't bad.
No, it was satisfying.
Because things finally fell into place.
'All the swordsmanship I've absorbed up to now.'
For instance, Proficient Kingdom Swordsmanship and the imperial sword arts.
Even the street mercenary's techniques and bare-handed combat.
The jumbled skills harmonized.
'If I fought that shield knight from before now...'
It was unlikely to happen, so he couldn't say for sure.
But in Damian's own estimation.
He could win more easily than then.
The achievement of just one month.
"Hmm, that aside."
Commander Mikhail stroked his chin and spoke.
"As you know, today is the last. The disbandment order has come down."
This morning.
With the ceasefire agreement signed, orders had gone out to the entire army.
The commander's lessons ending today as well.
"I'll be heading back to the territory for focused training myself for a while."
His expression grew serious.
"Something dawned on me during this war."
The great lord of Sobkov Territory in the kingdom's east.
That was the commander's other identity.
'The gap in status hits home.'
The lord of the territory and one of the kingdom's strongest Sword Experts.
Having a private audience with such a titan and learning from him.
A life unimaginable just a few months ago.
"And you?"
"......Pardon?"
"What are your plans going forward? With the war over, isn't your role as a conscript done here?"
A question snapping the surreal back to reality.
Damian had been conscripted for frontline duty, so with the war ended, discharge was possible.
"Why not seize the moment and stake your claim? With your merits so far and that ability, a few promotions would be a breeze."
It would be a lie to say he hadn't considered it.
The chance for a lowly foot soldier to become an officer.
But.
"I'm afraid that's not possible."
Damian politely declined.
"I plan to return to the northern front and apply for discharge first."
"And then?"
"Dig a bit deeper."
"Dig into what?"
Damian paused briefly.
He revealed his honest feelings.
"I want to grow stronger than I am now. In fact, I've developed a dream of reaching the level of a Sword Expert like you, Commander."
Fierce ambition burned in his eyes.
To devour more, to become a stronger being.
For now, that was his sole goal.
"What? A Sword Expert like me?"
"Yes, though I don't know if it's possible..."
"Hahaha!"
Mikhail burst into hearty laughter.
He liked ambitious sorts.
"Good! A man needs that kind of drive!"
With that, he clapped Damian's shoulder hard.
An innocent gesture, but it rattled his bones.
"Then you'll need to become a knight first."
"With my lowly status..."
"Nonsense."
Mikhail smirked.
"Status matters only for regular knights."
Regular knights.
Knights who couldn't wield mana.
"Didn't I tell you last time? You've already grasped a life-changing opportunity."
"......"
"You sense mana. Hell, you can even control it. If you set your mind to it, you can become a knight anytime."
Those who wield mana transcend status barriers.
That was the law of this world—or more precisely, the world of arms.
"Hmm..."
Mikhail pondered briefly, then made a proposal.
"What if you joined a knight order?"
"A knight order, sir?"
"I can write you a recommendation anytime."
A recommendation from Mikhail Sobkov.
Its weight would be immense.
However, joining a knight order didn't appeal.
'What I need isn't training, but devouring.'
Devouring wasn't possible in a knight order.
Unless he brimmed with martial talent.
For now, it was an inefficient choice.
"I truly appreciate the offer, but I think joining a knight order is premature."
"Knew you'd say that. From what I see, you're a实战 type. You grow through real battles, not rigid drills."
Spot-on assessment.
He had grown in the crucible of battle.
Precisely, through devouring.
"Then how about coming under me directly?"
"Under your command... sir?"
"As a lord, it might sound odd, but our Sobkov Territory is infamous for its harsh lands."
Mikhail grinned and continued.
This was his real intent.
"It's crawling with all sorts of barbarians and monsters spilling over from the eastern great jungle."
"Monsters, you say?"
"Terrifying bastards. Empire grunts would feel like children by comparison."
Damian's eyes gleamed at those words.
'Can I absorb monster abilities too?'
A sudden question.
And intense curiosity.
'If so.'
An incredible opportunity.
Commander's guidance included.
Real combat experience in abundance.
And above all.
'The perfect environment to devour without restraint.'
Not people, but monsters.
And humanity's foes, the barbarians.
Devouring expands in quantity and scope.
Far more than slicing enemy soldiers in wartime.
'Need to test it.'
Of course, he didn't know yet.
If he could steal abilities from monsters.
If those stolen abilities suited him efficiently.
So he answered cautiously for now.
"May I return north, complete the discharge process, and decide then?"
"Of course."
"Thank you for your understanding."
"Understanding? You've just gained strength yourself."
"......Strength?"
"Aren't you choosing your own path in life?"
Those without strength have their paths dictated by others.
Like how he, gripping a broken spear, had once gripped a plow.
Perhaps even his past as a farmer following his father's footsteps.
"Congratulations. On being reborn as one who chooses."
But not anymore.
Now he could choose his life's direction freely.
Soldier on, head to Sobkov Territory.
Return to farming, or aim for higher realms.
That was the essence of the strength Mikhail spoke of.
The privilege of those who wield mana.
'......One who chooses.'
A dazed feeling lingered.
But he understood, somewhat.
A life of choosing one's path.
What it meant.
A little, just a little.
Several weeks later.
6th Legion headquarters in the north.
He stood here once more.
"Damian Winter."
6th Legion Commander Christian Veil called his name.
His gaze was still sharp, but warmer than before.
"Your achievements are beyond words. The victory on the eastern front, and the success of the 6th Legion's strategy—all thanks to your exploits, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration."
Thirty scouts sent to the eastern front.
Only one completed the mission.
No empty praise.
"And... you've returned much changed."
His eyes scanned Damian.
"I knew you'd awakened mana sensitivity. Back when you returned from the Black Forest."
As expected.
The legion commander was also at Sword Expert level.
Like the commander, he had known all along.
"Things were too urgent for me to tend to you personally. So I left a personal request in the sealed letter I entrusted to you."
The message the commander had mentioned.
The legion commander smiled in satisfaction.
"Looks like you learned properly from Mikhail, that friend of mine."
"I'll never forget your consideration, Legion Commander."
Damian bowed his head.
"Consideration."
The legion commander rose from his seat.
His eyes wavered briefly.
"The gratitude is mine to express."
He gazed into empty space for a moment.
"My son, Arger."
A son he couldn't see even if he longed to.
His face must have come to mind.
"Thanks to you, I can bring my son back home."
His voice trembled.
The figure of a father who had lost his child.
"Thank you, Damian Winter. From the bottom of my heart."
Moments ago, he had commended him as a commander.
But now, as a mere father, he bowed his head.
"So, what are your plans from here?"
The legion commander composed himself briefly.
He reverted to his commander demeanor.
"Fortune has granted me a chance to grow stronger."
Referring to his mana sensitivity.
"I plan to focus on that opportunity now."
Damian answered without hesitation.
Fierce ambition burned in his eyes.
"A fitting path."
The legion commander nodded.
He then signed the document on the table.
Damian Winter's 'discharge order'.
"Go experience the wide world. And return even stronger."
"1st Infantry Division soldier Damian Winter acknowledges the legion commander's orders."
Damian gave his final salute.
Now, it truly began.