Chapter 213

The winter of the Empire in 1916 was particularly cold.

The war, which aimed to drag the whole world into a furnace, had temporarily entered a lull. Black ashes and gunpowder covered everything, with hands stained with soot lying helplessly sprawled, making the place seem like a muddy mix of everything tumbling together.

The burning land, countless lives collapsing, and the tension thickening like an impending bullet that could cut off one’s breath without warning within the trench.

“Huuh…!”

“Ughh….”

Even there, a weak warmth persisted.

The crackling fire that scattered embers. A grown man worried that the chilly wind might extinguish the flame, darting his eyes around with a glance of concern.

Even if the small flame flickered uneasily in the air, it was our campfire that allowed us to sustain our lives. The man with a slightly dented military cap pulled it down firmly and rubbed his ear warm while grumbling.

“Ugh…! It’s really damn cold…!”

That was Corporal Dennis’s complaint. He cautiously peeked outside, then promptly ducked back into the trench and began rubbing his hands together vigorously. His gloved hands were not visible on the outside, but they must have turned quite red on the inside.

“Reverend… Has the Company Commander said anything?”

Private Jeffrey, who had been poking at the campfire with kindling, mumbled. I shook my head and clutched the heavy coat draped over my priestly robe even tighter.

“He hasn’t said anything in particular.”

“Ugh… I’m going crazy….”

“At least I’m glad there are some winter gear left from last year. Without these, we’d probably end up like those poor guys over there, wouldn’t we?”

It seemed that Corporal Dennis’s lips, frozen by the cold, found it hard to move, and he muttered lowly while glancing at the trench’s exterior. I deliberately avoided looking in the direction he pointed.

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say I didn’t want to see. The sight was one that would furrow anyone’s brow, given the circumstances.

“The no man’s land… That place will need to be dealt with later.”

As I whispered softly, Corporal Dennis and Private Jeffrey grimaced in distaste.

“You’re talking about the no man’s land? Reverend Antenelli. I bet any service companies or cleaning crews from the Empire won’t even consider stepping into that no man’s land!”

“Corporal Dennis is right! Who would want to go into such a place? It’s filled with rotting corpses or disgusting rats…”

Outside the trench, barbed wire was chaotically spread, and beyond that, all sorts of mines and traditional traps lay in wait. We called that place the “no man’s land.”

No man’s land. Literally, a place where no human exists.

Not only humans, but it seemed that life itself did not exist there.

A blackened world where everything had burned away. The world’s destruction had not yet come, but for at least millions of lives, something akin to a disaster had descended upon this land of death—no man’s land.

What existed there were the jumbled barbed wires, a sufficient quantity of mines ready to tear off limbs if someone charged blindly, countless corpses. And even more, swarms of rats.

“Still, those bastards must be well-fed.”

“Are you talking about the rats?”

“Yeah. Don’t those little bastards get to eat something? Damn… I can’t even remember the last time I ate until my belly burst.”

Corporal Dennis grumbled while rubbing his belly. Just as he said, the rats in no man’s land would not go hungry.

The rats would even gnaw on human flesh. They would burrow into corpses, limbs disassembled and breath ceased, gnawing away at the flesh from within.

First, they would invade the eyes, the weakest and most tender parts of the human body. At this time, the rats were small in size.

It didn’t matter how big they were; their teeth were strong. Once they started gnawing, bones quickly shattered.

Whether they entered through the eyes or if a body was torn apart, they would gnaw their way in from the torn sections… Rats made their homes in human bodies.

Thus, even in a world where all manners of cannon shells and bullets raged, the rats managed to find warm and cozy nests. These nests sometimes provided food as well.

The rats, having lost their habitat of life, perhaps wandering without an home, would go hungry. There was no food nearby, just what they had been used to eating.

And before those rats, there existed flesh that was still warm, even if the warmth had faded, each morsel packed with high caloric energy.

The flesh of humans, dwarfs, elves, and other races, even though the place was rapidly decaying, flesh is still flesh. There was no reason not to eat it.

Once rats tasted human flesh, from that moment on, they would start to indiscriminately devour the high-protein prey scattered carelessly across the battlefield.

And thus, giant man-eating rats, growing as large as human’s forearms, were born. They became another enemy. For us, and for the other races.

Those who had tasted human or other races’ flesh would come to regard the living beings in front of them as prey, and often they would form packs to target the living.

Only such rats would survive, feeding on corpses in that no man’s land. They were detestable beings that everyone, including dwarves and elves, who have been at odds with us for years, loathed.

“By the way, aren’t we supposed to do some rat hunting?”

Private Jeffrey sniffled and asked. Corporal Dennis and I looked at him blankly before turning our gazes back outside the trench.

As the fighting had entered a lull, and when gunfire would sometimes cease distantly from the other trench, we occasionally held a small rat-catching contest under the supervision of Meijhem, with a small reward. The reward was a couple of packs of contraband cigarettes.

Even over there, the dwarves or elves in the opposite trench wouldn’t hastily attack when we were catching rats. It was because we were doing them a favor by catching our mutual enemy, and they too needed some tidying up after battles.

They would scoff, saying, “Humans are catching rats again,” but when they listened to stories from prisoners, they were secretly grateful for us catching rats.

Most of the soldiers loathed the supply-grade cigarettes that had a refreshing mint scent to the point of making them tear up, so everyone would go crazy over the small reward and catch rats.

“I’m starting to miss those contraband cigarettes too.”

Private Jeffrey said with a shy laugh as he wiped his nose. Corporal Dennis, looking at Jeffrey, scratched his head and stared blankly at the campfire before he patted Jeffrey’s shoulder and said.

“Hey, Jeff. Look at the situation outside. Do you think the rats are going to be scampering around?”

“Ah….”

Private Jeffrey opened his mouth and nodded. Just as Corporal Dennis said, it was winter now.

Upon that black land of death, when that season returned, the white devil would settle down.

So terribly cruel. The biting cold that made bones ache and teeth chatter. Pure white death descended upon it. A mere rat, having feasted on human corpses and grown enormous, couldn’t possibly roam around in its entirety. Corpses do not arise infinitely.

“What we are doing without engaging in battle is practically the same as catching rats.”

“Is that… so?”

“Hey, you fool… It’s been two months without any fighting or casualties, and what about the rats? Are they just growing fat on the corpses?”

“Ah…!”

“Ah…! What the heck… The rats have grown too large. No matter how large their bodies have gotten, the caloric energy inside gets consumed faster. Just like how they gnawed on the corpses.”

They gnaw on human corpses and open their eyes to abundant food scattered everywhere.

Ironically, that becomes a trap for the rats. As food disappears, they become unable to handle their enormous size that grew due to indiscriminate eating.

“The cold plays a significant role too. Despite being just little rats, enduring the kind of cold that feels like their ears might fall off is quite difficult.”

“Indeed, that seems to be the case. Sniff….”

“Damn, you’re disgusting… Jeff. Wipe your nose.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just so cold… We need to throw more firewood into the fire.”

Private Jeffrey opened the bundle next to him, revealing the firewood that had been dried for several days. It was precious firewood. Especially now that everything was covered in snow.

“Has the snow removal finished? Reverend, when is our turn?”

“If it snows, after Corporal Janssen.”

“Janssen, that troublesome guy? Didn’t the Company Commander say they wouldn’t assign cooking staff to snow removal?”

“It was changed this time. As you know, Dennis, there’s a shortage of personnel.”

“Ha ha… It’s true. Janssen, that troublesome little brat, should suffer a bit this time.”

Corporal Dennis, sniffling like Private Jeffrey, laughed softly. He stared at the firewood piled on the campfire and soon poured something over it.

– Fshhhh!

“See? Without oil or alcohol, the fire doesn’t come alive well.”

“Wow… Corporal Dennis. That’s not…”

“Yeah, buddy. It’s alcohol. I secretly swiped it from the supplies when the supply battalion came last time.”

Private Jeffrey looked at Corporal Dennis with eyes full of awe. Dennis snickered and soon rinsed his mouth with his canteen before taking a swig of the alcohol.

“Ahh…! This is it, this is…!”

“C-Corporal Dennis! Me too…!”

“Sure. You’ve suffered a lot too… Won’t you have some, Reverend?”

“…Just a sip.”

“Hehe… You’ve completely fallen too, Reverend.”

Regardless, I took the hip flask containing the alcohol from shivering Private Jeffrey. The hot low-grade alcohol with a mildly smoky aroma seeped down my throat.

“Huuh….”

“Isn’t it good? The warmth rises nicely.”

“Yeah. It seems good.”

“Just savor it. When we do snow removal, it can get so cold that it feels like we’re going to lose our manhood, right? Sneaking a sip in then makes the warmth spread nicely.”

Corporal Dennis chuckled as he tucked the hip flask back into his coat. Private Jeffrey looked at it with a slightly reluctant expression before turning his gaze back to the campfire.

“…I don’t know when this will end. It’s almost the end of the year, and Christmas is just around the corner…”

“…Yeah. I miss Mom.”

“…….”

We stared blankly at the campfire, silent for quite a while. Corporal Dennis, who first uttered that he missed his mom, sniffled apologetically.

– Whooooosh—!

A sharp wind sliced through. Corporal Dennis irritably pulled up his collar.

“Ugh…. It’s really cold. Damn it….”

“Just one more sip of alcohol…”

“Don’t push it, Jeff. This is my trophy. Don’t get any ideas.”

“What trophy? You just stole it, didn’t you? That’s supplier theft…”

“You enjoyed it too. Have a drink.”

“…Thank you.”

Watching Dennis take out the alcohol again and Private Jeffrey grinning, I couldn’t help but break into a smile.

December 22, 1916, of the Empire.

That year’s winter was particularly cold and bleak.