The quarters where the generals stayed were in much worse condition than I had imagined they would be.
The blankets covering the tents were moldy, and the entire space reeked of stale cigarette smoke. The floor was an untidy mass of mud, and the thin iron poles which held up the tent shook as if they would break at any moment.
It was an extremely poor and uncomfortable tent, the kind where one could seriously wake up in the middle of the night to find the roof collapsing without any surprise.
“There is business with the general. Is the Holy Maiden around at the moment?”
I was going over the content of the lecture Alter had given me, placing my notebook on my chest, when an unfamiliar voice came from outside.
“Come in.”
Grisha, who had been lying on the bed, carefully adjusted her voice so that no one could notice, and said those words.
Her compassionate and warm voice made anyone who heard it feel at ease.
Soon after, the door to the tent opened, and a towering female officer dressed in a mud-covered uniform appeared.
“I know it is not yet working hours, but some of the wounded are becoming severely infected. Would you please come and take a look if you could?”
To the thick-set officer who had stepped into the tent entrance, she offered a warm smile like in the game — a smile filled with an indescribable sanctity that could not be fully appreciated unless experienced firsthand.
“… Could you wait just a moment? I will come soon.”
Forgetting her fatigue, she moved to help the wounded. Her outfit was covered in dust, and there were unidentifiable bloodstains on her arms and legs, but she never lost her smile.
“I’ll wait for you.”
After saying that, the officer left the tent and walked back outside.
“… Hmph.”
With a sigh.
As soon as the officer left the tent, Grisha let out a small sigh. The compassionate smile that had graced her face moments before was now gone, leaving behind an expression of cold indifference.
“…”
It was an expression I had never seen before in my life. No matter how thoroughly I searched the databases, there probably wouldn’t be any illustrations or models showing Grisha with an expression like this.
In the depths of her eyes lay an indescribable sense of profound helplessness.
“Arthur, do you have any spare tobacco leaves? I just want to smoke one and go.”
The Holy Maiden Grisha spoke these words, which were not at all befitting her supposed holiness, naturally.
Of course, in the medieval era, tobacco was considered a sort of universal remedy and was recommended by many medical and religious professionals alike…
“Hipster.”
Such a thought naturally came to mind.
Estella’s Faith is a religion believed in by the majority of the continent’s populace, regardless of race. The sight of the representative of such a large religion, bigger even than all modern-day Christians combined, looking for tobacco with a cold expression was nothing short of shocking for me.
Where had that compassionate and gentle smile gone? All that was left was the Holy Maiden quietly filling her pipe with tobacco leaves and sneaking a smoke.
…Hipster!
“I’ve run out too, so I’m down to burning ashes repeatedly.”
“Why is there always a shortage of tobacco?”
“Because you keep stealing mine and finishing it. Anyway, these kinds of items are only supplied through specific applications, and there’s a fixed distribution per person.”
“But you’re our general. You could probably negotiate for more.”
“That would be embezzlement.”
Arthur responded curtly as he pulled a chair up to the desk again.
“You’re being too picky about a little bit of tobacco. Anyway, isn’t the tobacco here at the front lines unused and thus spared?”
“Just asking for tobacco and a pipe under your name would solve the problem…”
“Are you suggesting I let my followers know I smoke?”
“So what? The Holy Maiden is human too, isn’t she?”
“Not to the faithful, she isn’t.”
Grisha sighed in regret that she couldn’t smoke before gathering her heavy feet and slowly moving towards the tent’s entrance.
Once again, she adjusted her voice and forcibly lifted the corners of her mouth which had drooped.
That usual and unchanged compassionate, beautiful smile once again settled on her face.
I don’t know how others might feel, but to me, that smile of Grisha’s seemed pitiful and pathetic.
“… It’s about time I get moving too.”
Arthur also glanced with regret at Grisha, who was walking away, and then after not much time passed, walked out with a pile of documents in his hands.
I thought that he was going to request more tobacco.
But, he only returned after a couple of hours had passed.
“Add, lend me your stuff.”
An unclear declaration accompanied this.
*
Bel Artura walked out with a bundle of documents in hand, and after taking only a few steps, set fire to the documents in his possession.
The small flame quickly grew and devoured the pile of documents in one go before fading away as if nothing had happened.
Bel looked at the pile of documents turning black into ash on the mud floor and placed a pipe in his mouth.
With a character so meticulous and even OCD-level perfectionist, it was essential for Bel to witness first-hand the transformation of these 1st-class classified documents into nothing but ash.
Finally, the embers completely died out, leaving Bel Artura greeted by a handful of ash.
He then stepped on the pile of ash with his thick military boots.
There was no way anyone except Bel could know what the contents of the documents had been.
Bel Artura then shifted his gaze from the pile of ash scattering in all directions.
Not far away was a line of soldiers who were moving back and forth between the baggage wagons and warehouses. Each of their hands held two or three large boxes.
There were more priest items delivered by the army than military supplies. Checking each and every one of these priest items would surely cause the on-duty officers no end of trouble.
“…The soldiers will like this.”
Tobacco, alcohol, tealeaves…
Though not as important as swords or arrows, they are indispensable items for soldiers in war.
In the battlefield where someone next to me every day dies from unimaginable attacks, one needs these to maintain sanity.
‘He said he lacks battlefield experience, right? Or is he just smart?’
Bel Artura inwardly marveled at a certain young man named Bin. Not even considering where such a large sum of money could come from, his sensibility in choosing items was good.
“Seems like a pretty sharp kid entered.”
While puffing on his smoky pipe, Bel walked away from the generals’ tent.
As I passed through the camp where the smell of blood was rampant, I could easily locate the officers’ tent not too far away.
“Ah, General, is there anything you need?”
The officers who had been huddled on the tent floor or leaning against a pillar taking short naps quickly stood up and saluted Bel.
“How’s the manpower selection going?”
“It’s still ongoing. Even as we list the competent ones, they are constantly getting wounded, so it is not easy.”
“… We need to set off tomorrow at the latest, by the day after tomorrow. With little time left, I will choose the personnel myself.”
“We’ll gather all those available to move immediately for you.”
“Thank you.”
Soon enough, sturdy human and elf soldiers lined up and approached him.
The Orcs and Dwarves were excluded from this mission. Although they were brave and bold, they lacked the necessary stealth and composure.
In front of Bel stood around 300 soldiers. Each one of them was the best of the best, capable of easily defending a couple of villages.
These top-notch elites, whose skills could not be doubted, looked as if they were overwhelmed with despair and fatigue in their eyes, indicating the gravity of the battle.
“Excluded personnel, please return to your positions. You, and you. And you.”
Bel carefully observed each one of them and began to send the excluded soldiers back to their posts. The soldiers who were excluded looked slightly surprised, but without complaint, returned to their duties.
“… You, step back. And you too.”
The soldiers whose entire bodies were trembling like quaking aspen leaves, whose eyes had lost their strength, and whose breathing was rough weren’t physically injured.
They were unanimously soldiers who had reached their mental limits. It didn’t matter how robust their physique or how superior their skills; Bel could not assign anyone in such a state of mental despair for this mission.
As the selection process continued, the remaining soldiers numbered about seven.
Three Elves and four Humans.
“… What are you doing here, anyway?”
Bel frowned upon noticing a familiar face among the survivors.
Add.
The young man carrying a massive sword on his back as big as his torso was in the formation.
“Your task is to guard Bin, isn’t it? Have you forgotten your own duty?”
“General Bin is safe now in the tent, is he not?”
“… What?”
Bel genuinely did not understand what Add meant by that.
“There’s no need to guard someone who’s perfectly safe. I didn’t want to sit idle while waiting for Master Bin to go on the mission. I want to raise my reputation quickly.”
“…”
At that moment, Bel truly felt the urge to slap the cheek of the young man in front of him.
Participating in other missions and exhausting one’s strength, failing to protect Bin at the crucial moment he’s meant to protect — what was the purpose of coming to Valleland if that’s going to happen?
Reputation, honor… This fool didn’t seem to understand that this wasn’t a battlefield where such things could be gained so easily.
He should have realized this when the term ‘hero’ was so casually spoken. This fool was clearly far too immature to experience a real battlefield.
“…”
Bel fell into deep thought as he looked at Add.
There was no doubt Add had talent. Though Bel himself had not seen Add fight, his own experiences from surviving extreme battlefields for over ten years gave him insight to distinguish between talented warriors and the rest.
And this insight told him that the young man before him would become renowned across the continent in five years, perhaps even ten.
The potential he felt from Add now was like seeing a young Hailroom from his early days. If properly nurtured and with opportunity, it wasn’t impossible for him to reach a level not just widely recognized across the continent, but perhaps even the rank of ‘General’.
Therefore, it was truly regrettable.
With such potential, it was disheartening to see him focused only on meaningless fame and honor.
Neither of which held any value on the battlefield.
“Kid.”
Bel addressed Add in this manner. Add seemed not to recognize that ‘kid’ referred to himself.
“Are you okay with dying?”
To such a question from Bel, all the soldiers except Add swallowed dryly. There was an entirely different gravity to Bel asking if someone was okay with dying compared to ordinary officers or commanders.
Most officers would casually ask if soldiers were ready to die just to test their resolve.
But that wasn’t the case with Bel.
Bel was a cold-blooded man who could even order a soldier to take their own life if necessary. He would throw one or two soldiers into a fire for the greater good with no hesitation.
Knowing this, cold sweat trickled down the backs of the other soldiers.
“I am!”
On the other hand, Add didn’t really know what kind of person Bel was. He had a certain reputation as a capable adventurer but as a soldier, he was as green as a newly minted corporal.
His mind was filled with the youthful desire to become a hero who saved people and the romanticized fantasy about the ‘General’ Arthur Bel in front of him.
…If Bin had seen this, he probably would have thought Add was a fool.
‘Too foolish for the talent he possesses. Given his age, probably around twenty, it might be expected. With such outstanding talent, he’s probably never experienced significant failure or defeat.’
Bel felt pity looking at the confident Add.
The future events were going to be an enormous challenge for Add. The heart of this young soldier would be torn to shreds, and there was even a possibility that he wouldn’t be able to forget the memories of today, abandoning his sword and living in exile for the rest of his life.
“…Alright, that’s settled then. The mission is in two days. I’ll brief you about the details at this time tomorrow, so take good rest for today and tomorrow to maintain your condition. Dismissed.”
Even knowing these facts, Bel decided to involve Add in this mission.
You can’t move forward without understanding despair and getting wounded.
That’s why he deliberately included the rookie Add in a horrifically dangerous mission that even seasoned veterans might not endure.
If Add could endure what he will experience in this mission, he will surely become a truly usable soldier. However, if he collapses and can’t endure it?
‘Then that’s just his level.’
Bel had no time to care about this promising youth. The battlefield here isn’t one that waits for the young to grow up.
This is Valleland.
