Kapitel 21: First day on the battlefield

"Hope? Haven't had much of that in a long time."

The conversations continued, each soldier sharing bits of their past, their fears, and their hopes—however small they might be. I listened quietly, my presence largely ignored. It was clear that my status as a noble-turned-criminal made me an outsider, even among this group of outcasts.

"Hey, what do you think about the kid?" one man whispered to another, not realizing I could hear them.

The other soldier shrugged. "He's young. Too young. Aside from that, he is just a weak crybaby noble. I bet he won't see the end of the first day."

"Doesn't matter," a third soldier interjected. "He's still a noble. Probably thinks he's better than us."

"Maaan…..These nobles, I hate them so much. It is because of a bastard like him that I ended up here."

"Same."

They continued to talk amongst themselves as we all walked to the frontline camps.

"Quiet!" Sergeant Vance's voice cut through the murmurs, bringing an abrupt end to the conversations. "Save your energy for the march. We move in silence."

The order was clear, and the group fell into a tense, quiet rhythm. The sound of our footsteps and the occasional rustle of gear were the only noises that accompanied us as we continued our march toward the frontline camps.

The day wore on, the sun climbing high in the sky before beginning its descent. My body ached with each step, my feet throbbing from the unaccustomed strain. The weight of the armor and spear was a constant burden, pressing down on me. I had never exerted myself this hard before, and the fatigue was starting to take its toll.

As evening fell and the sky darkened, we finally reached the frontline camps. The first thing that hit me was the smell—a potent mix of burnt wood, metal, and the faint, acrid tang of blood.

The camp was bustling with activity, soldiers moving purposefully among tents and makeshift fortifications. It was a far cry from the relative quiet of our training camp. The atmosphere was charged with tension and urgency.

We were directed to a section of the camp designated for new recruits. As we entered, the weight of everything I had experienced hit me all at once. My body was exhausted, my muscles screaming in protest with each movement. My feet felt like they were on fire, and the urge to vomit rose in my throat.

Sergeant Vance gathered us in a huddle, his expression as stern as ever. "You've made it this far, but the real test begins now," he said. "Get some rest tonight. You'll need it. Tomorrow, you'll be thrown into the fray. Remember your training, stay in formation, and follow orders. That's the only way you'll survive.

I nodded along with the others, too tired to do anything but comply. We were shown to our sleeping quarters—simple tents with straw mats laid out on the ground.

'As expected, comfort is not there.'

It was a far cry from the comforts of home, but at this point, I was too exhausted to care.

'Bloody hell…..'

As I lay down, the pain in my feet and the ache in my muscles made it difficult to find a comfortable position. It hurt a lot, and it was the first time I felt like I had been pushed this far. Of course, training with a spear, constantly stabbing, etc., was not that easy either, but carrying such heavy things and walking all the way….

It was too much for me. I did not think of myself as a particularly weak person up to this point. I may have been weaker than my brother or my sister when they were my age, but I thought I was at least on the average strength.

But, I forgot one thing, now that I was here.

'Everyone here is older than me.'

Even if I was not that weak physically compared to my peers, I was weak compared to people here. And adapting to them would not be easy.

The weight of the day's march settled heavily on me, and despite the exhaustion, sleep did not come easily.

My mind was a whirl of thoughts, fears, and the grim reality of what lay ahead.

Considering that the enemies would be the same as these guys, I understood my position here.

"Sigh...." A sigh escaped from my lips as I clenched my hand and remembered what happened when I went against Stroud for the first time.

'Even if I am weaker, as long as I remember my training, I can survive.'

Thinking that, I closed my eyes.

The scent of the camp, the sounds of soldiers preparing for battle, and the knowledge that we were on the brink of a deadly confrontation all combined to create a sense of foreboding.

I knew that the days ahead would test me in ways I had never imagined, but I also knew that I had no choice but to face them head-on.

********

The morning came too soon, the sky still dark as Sergeant Vance's voice pierced through the haze of sleep. "Up and at them! It's time to move!"

I groaned, my body protesting the sudden movement. Every muscle ached, a reminder of the previous day's march. But there was no time to dwell on the discomfort. I forced myself to sit up, my mind sharpening as the reality of our situation settled in.

Vance was already outside, directing the older recruits who had been here for six weeks. They moved with practiced efficiency, their faces hardened by their time at the front. I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at their apparent ease. I knew that, for us new recruits, the real challenge was only just beginning.

"Get your gear and line up!" Vance barked, his voice carrying a note of urgency. "We've got a long day ahead."

I quickly grabbed my armor and spear, securing everything as best I could. The weight was still a burden, but I had no choice but to bear it. The other new recruits were in similar states of fatigue, but we all knew better than to complain.

As we assembled, Vance addressed us once more. "Today, you'll be integrated with the older batches. They've been here longer, and you'll learn from them. Stick to your units, follow orders, and watch each other's backs. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Sergeant!" rang out, though the voices were tinged with a mix of anxiety and determination.

Vance nodded, satisfied with our response. "Good. Now, let's move out."

We began our march again, this time alongside the more seasoned recruits. The atmosphere was tense but focused. The older recruits occasionally glanced our way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness. It was clear they were sizing us up just as we were trying to gauge them.

The terrain grew rougher as we moved closer to the front lines. The smell of smoke and metal grew stronger, and the distant sounds of battle became more pronounced. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached a vantage point overlooking the battlefield. The sight before us was a grim reminder of what lay ahead. The Valerius Plains stretched out, scarred by the ongoing conflict between the Loria and Arcanis empires. The landscape was dotted with makeshift fortifications, and the distant figures of soldiers clashed in brutal combat.

Vance turned to us, his expression stern. "This is where you'll be fighting. Remember your training, and stay with your unit. We'll be moving out to support the front lines shortly. Keep your wits about you, and watch for signals from your leaders."

As we prepared to move out, the older recruits offered a few words of advice. "Stick together," one of them said, his voice rough but sincere. "Watch each other's backs, and don't do anything stupid."

Another added, "It's going to be tough, but keep your head down and follow orders. You'll get through it."

I nodded, taking their words to heart. The fear and uncertainty were still there, but at the end of the day, we did not have a choice.

"Now, get ready."

We moved quickly, our hearts pounding as the reality of the battlefield settled over us. Vance led us to a section of the defensive line, his orders precise and unwavering.

"Take your positions and stay alert!" he commanded. "We're here to hold this line. Do not let the enemy breakthrough. Remember your training, and keep your heads down."

I found myself positioned next to a couple of the older recruits, their faces hardened by weeks of battle. They spared me a brief glance, a mix of pity and determination in their eyes.

The sound of the enemy approaching grew louder, the clashing of steel and the shouts of soldiers echoing across the plains. I gripped my spear tightly, my palms slick with sweat. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel my heart racing in my chest.

Vance moved among us, ensuring everyone was in position. "Stay focused," he urged. "The Arcanis forces will try to overwhelm us, but we hold the line. No matter what, we hold the line."

As the enemy drew closer, the ground seemed to tremble with the force of their advance.

RUMBLE! TAK! TAK! TAK!

And as if in an instant, the enemy appeared before us.

"ARCHERS!"

HORN!

With the horn ringing, the first day of my battlefield had started just like that.

-----------------------

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Kapitel 22: First day on the battlefield 2

–HORN!

As the horn rang, the enemy appeared right before us, with their bodies rushing. The wave came, some of them on their horses and some of them on the barefoot.

My breath came in short, rapid gasps, the fear threatening to overwhelm me. But I forced myself to remember my training, to steady my nerves.

And then, they were upon us.

The Arcanis soldiers surged forward, their weapons gleaming in the morning light. They crashed against our defenses with a ferocity that took my breath away. The clash of steel and the cries of the wounded filled the air, a brutal symphony of war.

CLANK!

I thrust my spear forward, the impact jarring my arms. The first enemy fell with his arm injured and retreated, but there were more, so many more. They pushed against us relentlessly, their numbers seeming endless.

"Hold the line!" Vance shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Do not let them break through!"

I fought with everything I had, my training guiding my movements.

Each thrust, each parry, was a struggle for survival. The enemy was relentless, their attacks fierce and unyielding.

But at some point, the man next to me fell, a spear piercing his chest.

"Kurghk-!"

Blood spilled from his chest as the pear pierced right there.

–THUD!

And then he fell to the ground.

I barely had time to register his fall before the enemy was upon me.

'Come, you bastard.'

It was a guy with a slightly bulky body. The spear that he was holding in his hand was shaking, most likely just like mine.

–STAB!

He advanced with a quick stab, but his movements were clumsy. It made me remember the moments when we were in the training parts.

Most of the trainees there were also like this. Even if they had trained, they were not that good at spearing.

CLANK!

I managed to fend off the attack, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, giving me a strength I didn't know I possessed. Or maybe it was something different I did not know.

–SWOOSH!

The enemy thrust his spear again, this time with more force. The spearhead glinted in the light, aimed straight at my chest. My muscles ached, and my body screamed in protest, but I gritted my teeth and focused on my training.

'Stay calm, stay focused. Remember the basics.'

I sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the spear's deadly point. My heart raced, pounding against my ribs as I countered with a quick jab of spear.

SLASH!

My spear found its mark, slicing across the enemy's arm. However, it was not that deep.

At that moment, when my spear went down and cut his body, I realized that my strength was not sufficient to slash through his arm completely.

"AAARGHK!"

He hissed in pain, stumbling back. I could see the confusion in his eyes, the disbelief that a weak, young kid could hold his own against him. But there was no time for self-congratulation. The battle around us was a maelstrom of chaos and violence, and I had to stay alert.

The enemy soldier recovered, his eyes narrowing with anger. He advanced again, his movements aggressive, but at the same time, I could see what he aimed to do.

SWOOSH!

I parried his strike, feeling the jarring impact reverberate through my arms. Each clash of metal on metal sent shocks up my limbs, but I held firm.

I twisted my body, using the momentum to bring my spear around in a sweeping arc.

It was a move I had practiced countless times, a simple yet effective strike. Something that I found out when I was practicing our family art, [Serpent Flame Art] and [Thorne Style]. I felt a lot more comfortable when I was moving like this.

SLASH!

The enemy tried to block, but he was too slow. My spearhead cut across his chest, tearing through fabric and flesh.

He gasped, blood seeping from the wound. His grip on his spear faltered, and he stumbled.

'Do it now.'

I raised my spear to finish the enemy off, ready to end this fight. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw something that stopped me cold.

His eyes were wide with fear, and he was looking directly at me. It was the first time I truly realized what I was about to do.

I was about to take someone's life.

Life.

It is a simple yet profound concept.

For some, it's a routine, and for others, it's the meaning.

What is it for me?

What happens to him if I were to push this spear? After he dies?

'…..That….'

My spear shook in my hands, and I hesitated. The chaos of the battlefield faded for a moment, and all I could see was the terrified expression of the man before me.

I had trained for this, prepared for it, but the reality was far different from what I had imagined.

Suddenly, a movement caught my eye from the side. An enemy soldier was charging at me, his spear aimed at my unprotected side. My eyes widened in fear, my body frozen in place as I sensed the impending strike.

"KID!" a voice shouted from my right. It was one of the older recruits who had given me advice earlier. He moved swiftly, fending off the spear with his own and then stabbing the attacker in one fluid motion. The enemy fell, clutching his wound.

"Don't hesitate." the older recruit said while looking at me.

"Or you will die."

His words rang in my ears, resonating deeply within me. I locked eyes with the enemy before me, who had now recovered enough to launch another attack. "Don't hesitate."

I whispered to myself, my resolve hardening.

–SWOOSH!

The enemy thrust his spear towards me, but this time I was ready. I tilted my head slightly, evading the strike by a narrow margin.

My eyes were still wide. Something weird was happening in my head as if something was changing.

"Don't hesitate."

I must not hesitate.

But for what reason?

That soldier on my right side had now just collapsed. I did not know him, his name, nothing. Why was he fighting for?

Was it really important to justify taking a life?

"Or I am going to die. Don't hesitate, Lucavion. Don't hesitate. Don't stop."

No, in the first place, what is justified?

Have I not been exiled to this place because of something I did not do? Was I not in this situation because of an injustice?

Then, here, why was I thinking about justifying myself?

Was there a need for that?

"Yeah. It does not matter. I am going to live through this. No matter what."

If this is what I need to do so that I can live, then so be it. I am going to play in the same field.

I tightened my grip on the spear, feeling the wood and metal against my calloused hands. The enemy soldier, now more cautious, advanced again.

"Sterf, jou klein rot!"

I heard him shout something, but it was in a different language. Though that was not that important.

SLASH!

This time, I was prepared. As he lunged, I sidestepped and brought my spear down in a swift arc, the tip slicing through his unprotected side.

He gasped, stumbling as blood poured from the wound. There was no time for mercy or doubt. I thrust the spear forward, driving it into his chest.

STAB!

His eyes widened in shock and pain before he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

THUD!

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I had taken a life.

'He is dead.'

The weight of it threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed it aside. There was no room for hesitation here. Not if I wanted to survive.

The battlefield around me was a blur of motion and noise. I saw my comrades fighting desperately, holding the line against the relentless enemy. The older recruit who had saved me was engaged in another fierce battle, his movements precise and deadly despite his exhaustion.

"Soldier Lucavion!" someone shouted, drawing my attention. It was Sergeant Vance, his stern face marked with the grime and blood of combat. "Stay in formation! Hold the line!"

I nodded, falling back into place beside my fellow soldiers. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of my resolve, but it was tempered by a new, fierce determination. I had made a choice. I would fight. I would survive.

The enemy came at us again, their numbers seemingly endless. I gripped my spear tightly, ready to face them. The older recruit's words echoed in my mind. "Don't hesitate."

With a deep breath, I steadied myself and prepared for the next onslaught. The battle was far from over, but I knew now that I could face it. I could fight, and I could survive. No matter what it took, I would live through this.

As the enemy closed in, I raised my spear and braced for the impact. The world narrowed to the immediate threats before me, every movement and decision driven by the primal will to survive.

And as the chaos of battle raged on, I found within myself a newfound strength forged in the crucible of combat.

I would not hesitate. Not anymore.

-----------------------

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