Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 7

“Somehow, we survived.”

As the sun set, the Saria Battalion and the Reglia Battalion, having played significant roles, entered one of the barracks within the fort, intending to spend the night there.

Smoke from the cooking fires rose into the sky. In a corner of the ramparts, enemy prisoners, stripped of their weapons, were gathered together.

Once, they would have been sold as slaves for foreign currency, but now they were set to work for the Highserk Empire for a set number of years before being released.

Although there was opposition from those connected with slave traders, this approach was becoming mainstream as it increased the number of surrenders and reduced casualties, especially in the territories slated for annexation.

Nohl, who had been injured but helped by Walm during the battle, was alive. She had even managed to get her first kill. Jose, who had been responsible for Barrit, also managed to keep him safe, though Barrit looked quite wilted.

In front of Walm now, the new recruits were boasting about their achievements and loot.

“Look, Walm! A middle level gold coin! I can’t believe it, actual gold!”

“You got that from a soldier Walm took down, right? That’s pretty low of you.”

Nohl was holding a middle level gold coin, a fortune for someone from a poor background, enough to sustain a person for a year. Walm inwardly cringed at Nohl’s unshapely grin.

Jose, adept at searching the dead soldiers, found a barrel of ale in one of the barracks, securing drinks and bedding for their squad. Walm praised Jose’s excellent skills.

With victory ale and a reward from the battalion commander, the slightly chubby Platoon leader Cozul was in high spirits. Although there were injuries, the fact that no one from the squad died in such a fierce battle brightened the mood.

The two full moons seemed to bless their victory, yet they also starkly reminded Walm of the fact that this world was an alien one. In a quiet corner, Wilart was drinking alone.

“Wilart, that fireball was impressive. Saved me there.”

Walm, in a good mood, raised his cup to Wilart, who modestly acknowledged with his own.

“Yes… Walm, are you interested in it?”

Surprisingly, Wilart initiated the conversation. Walm quickly responded.

“Of course. Magic is fascinating.”

Indeed, what boy wouldn’t be captivated by magic?

“I see.”

Wilart diverted his gaze from Walm, retreating into his own world.

Returning to his own spot, Walm finished another drink. His bladder, filled to the brim, protested. Perhaps he got a bit carried away, he thought, as he left the noisy environment to find a suitable place.

Relieving himself in a secluded corner, Walm heard a small scream. Despite the victory, he was still in enemy territory. He was cautious, his longsword still hanging at his side.

Entering a room, he found a woman being restrained and stripped by soldiers from the Saria Battalion.

“What are you doing?”

Walm asked angrily, but the soldiers shamelessly replied.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re about to have our way with her.”

“Wanna join? You can have her last.”

Such incidents were common, but the woman clearly seemed to be a civilian, likely a family member of the soldiers in the fort. Though common on the battlefield, Walm couldn’t tolerate it.

“The fort’s people surrendered on certain conditions, so looting and raping the civilians isn’t permitted. It’s a military offense. You’ll be whipped if caught.”

Even the three fools knew where to draw the line when it came to military discipline.

“You’re a saint now or just playing knight, huh?”

“Don’t underestimate me. I’ve killed many on the front lines.”

The two soldiers, well-built from their battlefield experiences, confronted Walm.

“So what if you’ve killed a few?”

In his past life, Walm might have been intimidated, but after countless life-and-death situations, this was nothing. The combat on the rampart walkway was far more dangerous.

His flat, emotionless response made the soldiers hesitate as they recognized Walm. His body, though without armor, bore countless scars from combat.

“Damn it, this is a turn-off. Let’s go drink.”

After a standoff, their leader caved too. Watching the soldiers leave, Walm turned to the woman.

To her, he was likely no different from the others, so he had no intention of getting involved more than necessary.

“Go home and lock the door tightly. If someone tries to break in or abduct you, scream as loudly as you can. Got it?”

“Y-Yes.”

The woman hastily redressed and ran off, nodding repeatedly. Walm knew his actions hadn’t made much of a difference; these things were happening everywhere.

What would change, after all? Walm had killed many, but at least he had not lost his sense of decency.

Back in the room, the squad members were singing. It was a tale of a hero who rose from a commoner to greatness, a stark contrast to Walm’s current state.

Despite not changing in appearance, Walm could feel his eyes clouding over with each kill, each act of violence, and each atrocity on the battlefield.

It was a violent, mad time, but the soldiers, drunk on wine, seemed to be enjoying life as if their daytime killings were a lie. Perhaps they too would go mad if they didn’t make noise.

Walm had become accustomed to it, switching his mindset and joining in their circle.

◆

The road stretching into the forest seemed to twist and turn endlessly. The supply troops of the Highserk Empire’s army continued their march.

Thanks to magic bags, transporting supplies had been revolutionized. The combination of fully armored cavalry relays and magic bags enabled rapid delivery of vast resources to the frontlines.

Yet, the need for supply troops hadn’t diminished. Magic bags, scarce as magical tools, were used for hauling goods to storages, leaving surplus materials to be transported by cart and manpower. Hody, a supply troop member, was one such individual, humbly pulling a cart alongside draft horses.

Though front-line soldiers often ridiculed supply troops as failures or livestock, Hody took pride in his seven-year military service as a supply troop.

Once, Hody had an encounter with Gerald Berger, the military god of the Highserk Empire. It was during a night spent tirelessly transporting goods through relentless rain. As Hody unloaded the supplies, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Expecting it to be a guard with a snide remark, he turned to find Commander Berger himself.

Frozen in surprise, Hody listened as Commander Berger, with a sincere gaze, thanked him, “Working hard late into the night… Supply troops like you are vital to our army. You’re our nation’s pride.” From that day, Hody considered his job the greatest, knowing that the revered commander recognized his worth.

“Looking tired there,” Hody remarked to a new soldier in their unit. The man had lost an eye in combat, impairing his depth perception, leading to his reassignment to the supply unit.

“It’s hard hauling such weight,” the one-eyed soldier exhaled, not with sarcasm but exhaustion.

“Put some on my cart. My body feels sluggish from the light load,” said Hody, as he blocked the soldier’s path. Skeptical at first, the soldier laughed off the offer as a joke, but Hody, asserting his seven years of expertise, began transferring some of the cargo to his own cart.

“You’re serious?” the soldier asked in disbelief.

“I’m a specialist,” Hody boasted, “From siege towers to battering rams, even risking my life for dead fish, I’ve run to Libertoa, old Canoa, Mayard, Highserk – you name it. This is nothing for me.”

The soldier laughed heartily, “What a story! Thanks, man. I’ll buy you a drink sometime. Thought I was discarded to the supply unit because of my age and injury, but you’ve shown me it’s no less challenging than being a front-line soldier.”

After that, the two continued their task in silence, bonded by the shared understanding of their tough, yet crucial role.

They slowed down naturally as they approached a hill. As Hody looked ahead through the trees to judge the path, a gust of wind blew through the gaps between the trees.

Suddenly, the head of a soldier walking in front of Hody flew into the void. That was the signal for a barrage of arrows and magic to attack the group.

“Enemy attack! They’re coming!”

As one soldier shouted, Felius soldiers and adventurers began to cut into their assembly from both sides. An adventurer with a large shield smashed a soldier’s head horizontally with a shield bash.

A Highserk soldier who had engaged in a sword fight was hit in the throat by an arrow from the side and fell to the ground. Merchants and civilians hired temporarily, as well as soldiers, were indiscriminately attacked.

Hody hid behind a cart and drew his short sword. He had experience in combat, having faced a few monsters and foolish bandits.

“Uraaaaah!”

The one who charged in with a shout was a Felius soldier. Hody instinctively stabbed the short sword into the ground and hurled the cart.

The Felius soldier couldn’t avoid the suddenly approaching cart and was crushed underneath. Hody escaped death, but he had made a fatal mistake. His large build and strength had marked him as a dangerous target.

A blue-haired adventurer smoothly approached Hody. Before Hody could pull out his short sword from the ground, a long sword was already at his throat. His eyes widened, convinced of his impending death.

But before the fatal moment, what he heard was the sound of metal clashing and a familiar voice.

“Run, Hody! Tell the others!”

Swords crossed at a speed too fast for the eye to follow. Hody didn’t want to abandon his team and flee.

“But, but-”

“Go now, hurry!”

Once again, swords clashed at blinding speed, and the one-eyed soldier began to bleed profusely. Hody looked around: the escort soldiers were being killed one after another, and merchants and supply troops attempting to flee were all being slaughtered.

“I will deliver this information, no matter what. I swear it on the name of the supply troops!”

Hody kicked off the ground, not looking back. A spear from a Felius soldier grazed his shoulder, and a sword cut across his cheek.

The last one blocking his way was a young-looking female adventurer.

“Get out of the way!”

His roar slowed the girl’s movement. Ignoring the pain in his arm, Hody charged at her using his larger frame and strength. The girl rolled on the ground several times.

“Leetia!”

Another adventurer called out to check on their companion.

“If she’s that precious, lock her in a box! Defeated soldiers and mere adventurers, I’m not afraid of you. If you think you can keep up with that man’s speed, then try it. The legs that have supported Highserk are not cheap!”

The death throes of the one-eyed soldier reached Hody’s ears. Despite arrows flying relentlessly and tears streaming down his face, Hody didn’t stop running.