"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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