Rangers Beyond the Great Wall
Rangers were needed beyond the Great Wall. They couldn't keep yelling "Monsters incoming! Enemy raid! To your stations!" forever. Sure, their basic role was defensive, which was inherently passive, but that didn't mean active operations were impossible.
In the end, to conquer those snowy mountains, they'd have to switch to the offensive someday—and that meant venturing beyond the wall. The Great Wall was a physical barrier shielding the north from periodic monster waves, but it was also a psychological one, lulling people into believing they were safe as long as they stayed inside.
That's why we need Rangers.
Rangers were like scouts or advance parties. They'd venture outside the wall to gauge monster movements, survey the terrain, and shatter that subconscious psychological barrier. They'd recon the lay of the land beyond, eliminate any small, vulnerable monster packs they found early. Something like that.
Even Joseon during King Sejong's reign had operated a special unit called Chetaem-in to monitor Jurchen tribe activities—pinpointing villages, household counts, even chieftain names. If they did that against fellow humans, how much more against monsters?
"A true commander doesn't win against unfavorable odds to become legendary—he creates a situation where victory is inevitable, then fights to earn the title."
So he'd do everything in his power. Estiang rose immediately and sought out Karl.
"Welcome, Your Grace. To what do I owe the honor of your personal visit?"
Karl, who had been reviewing reports, stood and saluted crisply. Estiang nodded in acknowledgment, then cut straight to the point.
"I'm planning to form a new unit. I came to discuss the details with you."
"Forming a new unit, Your Grace?"
"Precisely—a small, specialized reconnaissance unit."
He explained the concept in full to the puzzled Karl.
"We need a unit that operates beyond the wall."
"I see. You mean a unit to scout the terrain and monster movements outside the Great Wall, yes?"
"Quick on the uptake—good. I'll select agile, fearless soldiers and form a dedicated recon and scouting team."
"Unit organization falls under operations staff duties, so that would be my responsibility."
"Probably. Is your current workload too heavy?"
On second thought, Karl was still handling the war wagon rollout, plus a dozen other tasks. One body wasn't enough; he'd need two.
Think K-army: operations officers chugging coffee like water, nerves perpetually on edge.
Should he delegate to someone else or handle it himself? As Estiang pondered, Karl shook his head.
"If you're entrusting me with the organization, I'll handle it."
"Can you manage?"
"Just the formation itself? No problem. It's a one-off task, not ongoing operations. I'll do my utmost to meet Your Grace's expectations."
His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. Workaholic? Well, if he volunteered, Estiang wasn't complaining. Still, he checked.
"Your current duties are already burdensome enough—no need to push yourself. I can assign someone else or do it myself."
"I'm fine. In fact, this is something I want to do."
"...Very well, then. The organization is yours."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Karl smiled. He'd better not burn out—he was too valuable to waste. Estiang eyed him skeptically, and Karl met his gaze with those bright eyes.
"So, Your Grace, what exactly will their mission be?"
"Periodic sorties beyond the wall to monitor monster activity and survey the snowy mountain terrain. Guides familiar with the area will be essential if we ever march out ourselves."
"That gives us three key criteria: skilled mountaineers, brave enough to venture outside, and utterly obedient to orders. Screening them will yield an elite force."
"Has to be. It's the most dangerous assignment—beyond the wall."
"And armament?"
"Recon-focused, so keep it minimal. Prioritize mobility."
He'd already planned it: similar to the Almogavars fielded by Aragon during the Reconquista. They'd use bows instead of javelins—light elite skirmishers, all-in on speed. Not for ambushing monsters, but pure scouting.
"Understood. I'll prepare accordingly."
Karl nodded.
"What about a unit name, Your Grace?"
"Name? Hm."
"If you haven't decided, how about this?"
"What name?"
Karl pondered, then grinned slyly.
"The first unit to step beyond the wall in centuries. Berg's shift from endless defense to offense. They'll strike the monsters who think those lands are theirs—like a storm."
Wait, no. Estiang cut him off hastily.
"Rangers. We'll call them Rangers."
"Rangers? Excellent name. I'll prepare that."
Whew, close call. No Stormtroopers needed. Orcs weren't digging trenches and waiting, thank god—that would be nightmare fuel.
Estiang exhaled in relief.
Daily life in the Berg Grand Duchy army proceeded as usual. Since Estiang Berg's military reforms, the duchy forces had transformed beyond recognition.
Even now, one side of the training ground echoed with soldiers drawing bowstrings until their hands blistered, while others drilled by specialty. It had started rough, full of trial and error, but branches of service were now established.
In downtime, monks dispatched from the church—per Estiang's deal with Bishop Jangber—taught reading and writing with zeal. Literacy meant even the lowliest private could think and act independently toward objectives.
Compulsory education was the essence of the Prussian mission-type command system. It was paying off; literacy rates were climbing.
Such was the routine—until today's special event.
"Attention!"
During a training break, as soldiers scattered for rest, Maximilian rallied them. Hundreds of eyes snapped to him. Clearing his throat, he bellowed:
"His Grace has issued orders! Listen closely!"
"His Grace?"
"Suddenly?"
All eyes locked on Maximilian's mouth.
"His Grace decrees: We've cowered behind the wall, waiting for those damned monsters to charge! But how long can we hide like cowards?"
Soldiers exchanged glances. True enough, but out of the blue.
Yet faith in Estiang was absolute. As they hung on, Maximilian drove home the point.
"Northern men aren't cowards! To prove it, His Grace has decreed the creation of the Rangers!"
"Rangers?"
"What's that?"
"First I've heard. You?"
"Me too."
Maximilian raised his voice higher.
"Those chosen for the Rangers will venture beyond the wall! They'll kick the asses of monsters lording over their 'territory'—claim that glory!"
Murmurs erupted.
"Beyond the wall?"
"Joking, right?"
"Does His Grace seem the joking type?"
Beyond the wall. Unthinkable for Berg, mired in defense for centuries. Honor tempted, but vague fear and resistance loomed larger.
As if expecting this, Maximilian smirked.
"His Grace said it plainly: This is dangerous. Scouting monster movements and terrain beyond the wall can't be anything but."
"Yeah, figures..."
"Do we have to volunteer?"
"But!" Maximilian's eyes blazed. "This is our great first step to break the chain of hatred with those filthy monsters! Imagine decades from now—passing a life of mortal combat with monsters to your sons and grandsons. Want that?"
He was surprised at his own flair for oratory. It was just Karl's script, verbatim. But speeches need soul to ring true—and Maximilian delivered.
"His Grace said only the bravest, most loyal soldiers qualify for this great mission! Who will prove their valor? Their loyalty?"
Silence fell like a dousing. Human psychology: moments ago, an optional peril. Now, for prideful northern men, a must-do—or admit lacking courage and loyalty.
"Northern men! Rise like a storm! Ask the brave northern blood in your veins what it demands—you know the answer best!"
Something boiled in the soldiers' chests. Centuries of blood-soaked resistance. The vanguard to end it, sparing sons and grandsons. Vanguards were ever the deadliest—and most glorious.
As Maximilian finished and strode away, silence lingered.
Someone broke it.
"Gotta sign up now."
His comrade clapped his shoulder. "Hold up—you're slower than me. I'll take the Rangers; you haul bread here."
"Funny bastard. You wrap bandages. Dangerous work's mine."
Flames ignited in their eyes. Thus dawned the Great Ranger Rush in the north—failing to join meant forfeiting manhood. Not Estiang's intent, but Karl's script and Maximilian's delivery birthed this positive surprise.
Exactly three days after the announcement, over two thousand soldiers applied for Rangers.
After ruthless screening, fifty made the cut.