Hands raised above their heads with hundreds written nothing but depression and guilt on their faces, walking in a straight line in the rough and muddy wastelands of the front lines.
Heated in the morning light as they were being escorted towards the village a few miles away.
They were guarded by infantrymen in each step they've made, angry and vengeful, as they watch the demoralized elves often trip from the mud of the horrible terrain.
Once, the infantrymen who were guarding them wanted to kill them now, with some clenching on their rifles tightly. But they couldn't, as it would leave an unimaginable punishment from their superiors if they do so.
Some elves who were left behind the march were tasks to gather all the dead soldiers into one spot while being guarded, only segregating the corpses by the matter of race.
Dead elves were meant to be burned tonight into one spot, while dead humans were carried and gathered into wooden carts where they will be sent home back to the country and be buried with honor.
Kazuto, sitting on the floor of the trench, exhausted from the battle. His legs close to his chest and his arms wrapped around it. He gazes towards the elf he had killed with guilt, as the boy was slowly being carried away, leaving nothing but only blood from where he was killed.
Kazuto sighed, leaning his head to his legs and pushing it closer towards him, as he closed both of his eyes and started contemplating.
"I shouldn't have done that," Kazuto whispered to himself, wishing it, but it was already done.
"Kazuto..."
A voice from afar had called him.
Otto, walking forward holding a small metal cylinder in his right hand, while his left hand is gripping to his right shoulder, still in pain from the wound he gained from the battle.
Kazuto gazed up with the same tired expression, watching Otto approach him.
"Here, drink up. We can't let soldiers becoming too exhausted," Otto said, throwing the bottle towards Kazuto.
"Ah. thanks," Kazuto replied idly.
Kazuto caught the bottle without a problem and started pulling the wooden lid. Drinking the warm replenishing water from the bottle slightly quenching his exhaustion.
Otto watched him with a neutral expression. However, Otto had already noticed that Kazuto was troubled just by the look of his pupils. His eyes were not glossing in joy, nor trembling from fear. It was just plain brown eyes gazing forward to whatever he was looking at.
"You look difficult? Is there something in your mind you wanted to say?" Otto asked, leaning himself to the wooden wall of the trenches next to Kazuto, closing his eyes and ears ready to listen.
Kazuto had finished drinking and cleaned his lip with a single swipe using his hands. He soon closed the bottle using the wooden lid and gaze towards Otto, throwing back the bottle towards him.
Without even looking, Otto had caught the bottle. He already sensed it, as expected from a soldier who had been in the front lines for how long.
"I just feel guilty, Otto. Killing a fourteen year old. It just felt wrong for me, that it isn't right!?" Kazuto said gazing idly towards the blood that was left behind.
He then looked up and gaze towards Otto with a remorseful look and asked, "What about you Otto, have you ever kill a child before?"
A moment of silence flooded the two of them, as Otto slowly opened his eyes. He sighed and processed his thoughts, thinking what he would say until he finally opened his mouth and replied.
"Yes.. I've killed some before, but not once I felt guilty."
Kazuto eyes widened in shock, never expecting the answer coming from a person who always smiles despite the horrors of battle, but instead of confronting, he just stayed quiet.
Otto paused again after saying those words and gazed down towards Kazuto, continuing what he was saying.
"Kazuto, listen. Children who are seen competent enough are always sent to war with the minimum age of being fifteen, but I guess fourteen year olds are close enough for service. It's just a daily occurrence to me, to confront enemy soldiers that age. Even our military we recruit young people as well," Otto informed him, gazing towards Adolph sitting a few meters away, cleaning his rifle as if it was his only and beloved family.
Kazuto had noticed where Otto was looking, with both gazing in front of them with Adolph's pure attention only to his rifle, not even noticing people had been watching him.
"Look at Adolph for example. He may look aggressive and much more serious than most of us, but he's the youngest here in the division. Only aging fifteen. He should still be in school, learning, having the time of his youth, but that's just how it is. If I remember correctly, he joined the military only a year ago," Otto said with a blunt expression.
"So are saying that killing children is all right. That it isn't wrong!?" Kazuto questioned him, with his fists clenching tightly and his teeth biting his lip.
"No, I'm just saying that it's normalized here. It's a cruel world we live in and we have no other choice but to listen to what we are being told to, to survive." Kazuto replied with a calm tone, gazing above the sky, covered with dark smokes released from the shells of artillery that was fired.
A moment of silence again flooded them, as Gunther slowly walked towards them with a tired expression the same as Kazuto, looking as if he was searching for someone.
"Oh, Otto. There you are. The doctors had just arrived waiting in the tunnels beneath. You should check that bloody arm of yours." Gunther suggested, pointing his finger towards the velvet stain on Otto's uniform.
Otto nodded with a small grin, moving his body away from the wooden wall and standing straight.
"I'll see you again, Kazuto." Otto's last words, as he walked away together with Gunther, who was escorting him.
Kazuto was left in his position, still contemplating; Unsure what to do next. Kazuto couldn't accept this rule, but he couldn't let himself die for uncertainty by the hands who are thirsty for blood just because they're young.
He was left with a choice, and an answer waiting for him to be picked. He just needed to follow what he thinks is best for him, and only the best for him.
"What did you two talked about?" Gunther asked gazing behind him, waiting for Otto to answer.
"It's nothing important. It's just a talk between the two of us about how life works. If you can it that way," Otto answered.
Gunther stayed quiet, though he still wondered what they were talking about in a slightly full detail, as the answer Otto had given was somewhat vague.
The two soon started walking down to the tunnel, as the floors, ceiling, and walls were cemented and filled with fortifications. It was also clean and only tainted with the burn marks left by the flamethrowers and blood from the elves who were killed.
Though everything looked nice. It completely felt different from the tunnels they were used to in the past year that were only made out of dirt that they called home. To them, these tunnels were like a mansion with the amount of space given to them.
The two made a small turn and soon they saw a few doctors wearing their respective gears, with their faces covered with face masks to avoid any unknown diseases that they would come into contact with.
Each treating the heavily wounded first as the soldiers tried their best to endure the pain and not scream. While the mildly wounded men were left on stand-by, with only one doctor appointed to them.
"Next!!" The Doctor yelled, as the previous soldier slowly stood up and walked away.
Otto walked forward and sat on the chair in front of the doctor, while Gunther leans against the wall next to him with his arms crossed, waiting.
The doctor flashed a light into Otto's wound, as he slowly pulled the bullet using his equipment. Otto grunted in pain as the tools entered his wounds, but he maintained his firm expression.
It didn't take long until the bullet was extracted and placed into a plate. The doctor then grabbed a few bandages lying on the table started wrapping them around Otto's arm.
"Listen, Corporal Muller. You can still use your rifle and fight, but I won't insure you that your right shoulder will be safe, in fact, your shoulder might be on the threat of desolation if you continue fighting. I suggest you should go back to the country and heal it," The doctor said, still wrapping the bandages.
Otto gazed towards the doctor with his mouth slightly opened in surprise. However, Otto already made a decision before the question was even asked.
Otto shook his head and gaze back towards the doctor, "If I can still fight, then I might as well continue my journey forward."
The doctor stopped and gaze towards Otto's solemn eyes, thinking he was only bluffing, but he wasn't. The Doctor sighed and continued his work.
"Then I wish you the best of luck," The Doctor said, finally finished the procedure and dismissing Otto.