Cedar's first priority as a newly promoted sergeant was clear—he needed to find Ivan and secure his place within his squad.
The weeks without Ivan's support had been grueling, with his progress slowing to a frustrating crawl. The battlefield left little room for stagnation; without rapid growth, survival was nothing more than a fleeting hope.
Ivan's training had honed his mastery of nature magic, enabling him to draw deeply from the unique advantages of his elven mana. Each spell he cast carried a natural elegance, a testament to the centuries of magical tradition embedded in his bloodline.
Cedar, on the other hand, was still grappling with the basics of blood magic. His progress had been slow and uneven, limited to instinctive use in the heat of battle.
The ability to manipulate his own blood and life essence—key principles of blood magic—felt like a double-edged sword. While it had saved his life more times than he could count, its unpredictability often left him vulnerable.
Len had warned him repeatedly: "Your talent is both your greatest strength and your greatest weakness. Don't rely on instinct alone. Blood magic is a tool—you must control it, or it will control you."
The truth of those words lingered in Cedar's mind. Blood magic, for all its raw potential, demanded mastery. It wasn't enough to wield it as a weapon in moments of desperation. He had to make it his own, bending it to his will, lest it one day consume him entirely.
That unspoken urgency had kept their correspondence alive, facilitated through Len's dream magic. They had agreed to meet in the capital's medical tent.
Cedar arrived to find Ivan already waiting for him, the half-elf warrior's easy smirk betraying his usual confidence. Without wasting time, the two made their way to Secretary Gunther's office to formalize Ivan's assignment.
Gunther, the man responsible for personnel assignments, greeted them with his usual meticulous air. His sharp eyes, hidden beneath the shadow of his gray mustache, lingered for a moment before acknowledging Cedar.
"Ah, Sergeant Cedar. I was informed about your promotion," Gunther said, his tone matter-of-fact as he adjusted the papers on his desk. "Congratulations. As a sergeant, you're now authorized to lead a team of five soldiers. Your salary has been raised to 25 pounds a month, and you'll also qualify for advanced training opportunities once you reach the peak of your Third Circle. Anything else you'd like to know?"
Cedar nodded, keeping his tone formal. "Yes, sir. I have a personal request to add Corporal Ivan K. Asterius to my team."
Ivan, standing at Cedar's side, offered a polite nod but couldn't resist flashing his characteristic grin. It was as if his presence alone confirmed his identity.
Gunther's sharp gaze briefly scanned Ivan's unorthodox appearance before returning to his papers. "I'll see what I can do." The secretary deftly filled out a short form, his pen scratching across the parchment with practiced efficiency. After a moment, he pulled out an official stamp and pressed it firmly onto the page.
"Done. Your request has been approved," Gunther declared, sliding the document aside. "Anything else?"
"No, sir. That will be all. Thank you," Cedar replied, offering a respectful nod.
Gunther leaned back in his chair, folding his hands. "Your squad will assemble in two days. Until then, you're on leave. Use the time to explore the capital and prepare yourself."
With the meeting concluded, Cedar handed over the collection of badges he had taken from fallen enemies during his past missions.
The payout was substantial—750 pounds in total. A large portion of it came from the bounty placed on the Imperium officer he had single-handedly defeated. The Union placed a significant premium on high-ranking enemy soldiers, and Cedar's feat had not gone unnoticed.
In addition to the bounty, his accumulated rewards for weeks of relentless deployment were tallied. Secretary Gunther worked efficiently, counting out 530 pounds as his immediate payment. Of that, 130 pounds was Cedar's regular salary, while the remaining 400 pounds came as a bonus for his promotion to sergeant.
As the final step, Gunther handed him a new badge—a symbol of his elevated rank.
Unlike insignias, which were primarily ceremonial and reserved for formal events as a symbol of honor and achievement, badges were an essential part of a soldier's daily life.
They served as both proof of identity and rank, a mandatory item carried at all times. Each badge was uniquely crafted, imbued with specialized magic to bind it exclusively to its owner, making it impossible for others to forge or misuse.
Gunther, finishing his explanation, added, "Your uniform and equipment will be updated to reflect your new status within the next few days."
Ivan whistled softly, his brow arching at the lump sum. "About time they paid you what you're worth," he said, his tone half-teasing but genuinely impressed.
Cedar gave a faint smile, pocketing the earnings.
Ivan collected his share as well, though it was noticeably less than Cedar's. Unlike Cedar, Ivan hadn't had the same opportunities to make his mark on the battlefield that day. Still, he didn't seem bothered, his attention already shifting to their next destination.
Cedar couldn't help but grin as he considered how to spend his newfound wealth. The capital's markets were known for their basic but useful magical items. Cedar had his sights set on something practical to aid him in combat, but he also considered splurging on smaller luxuries.
A lockpick kit would certainly come in handy, or maybe a simple magical light orb—nothing extravagant, but useful for the right moments. For the sake of entertainment, a small mechanical toy or a charm to ward off bad luck.
Not really practical in combat or survival but they could provide a welcome distraction.
Ivan, with his polished demeanor and noble background, knew the capital well and offered to guide Cedar through its winding streets. Together, they made their way into the heart of the city, where life pulsed with energy.
The capital's streets were crowded, but not in a chaotic way. Rather, the flow of people and carts had a smooth, almost choreographed rhythm.
Many wore simple clothes, though their modesty was offset by the subtle touch of magic woven into their daily attire—an enchantment that kept their cloaks dry, even in the rain, or boots that dusted themselves off after a long day of travel.
The buildings, while not overly grand, were sturdy and practical. The air was filled with the faint hum of runes embedded in the stonework of structures—charms designed to ward off pests, improve insulation, or ensure that the streets remained well-lit at night.
A nearby street vendor with a cart of fruit used a small hovering disc to keep flies away from his produce, while another seller employed a soft charm to keep her baked goods warm, even as the sun beat down from above.
The city was filled with practical magic, subtle yet pervasive. At one corner of the market, Cedar watched a merchant lean over to check her ledger, and with a simple flick of her wrist, the parchment glowed for a moment, highlighting the text with an easy enchantment that saved her the trouble of using a lantern.
On the other side of the street, a baker used an enchanted knife to slice perfect loaves of bread without ever needing to sharpen it. It wasn't magic meant for combat, but it was magic that made life easier—and it was everywhere.
The capital was alive with these little conveniences that most people took for granted. Cedar couldn't help but admire the seamless integration of magic into everyday life.
The Union might be at war, but in the heart of the capital, it felt as though everything had found its place—carefully balanced between practicality and the subtle flourish of magic.
"Quite the place, huh?" Ivan said with a grin, glancing around at the bustling streets. "Not too flashy, but everything here has its use."
Cedar nodded, taking in the scenery.
The streets were alive with families, soldiers, and workers, all going about their business. Some were in conversation, others focused on their tasks. The sounds of the capital filled the air—a symphony of conversations, footsteps, and the occasional clink of a coin changing hands.
They passed by a small open-air café where a mage in a simple robe served drinks with the help of a floating teapot, the steam rising lazily into the air. The magic was simple but effective, allowing the mage to serve several customers at once.
Cedar noted that even though the city was brimming with life, it never felt overwhelming. It was as if the magic here had been woven into the fabric of the city, giving it a steady, comfortable rhythm.
"I've been meaning to buy a new cloak," Cedar muttered, glancing at his worn attire. "Something with better enchantments. Keeps the cold out better."
"Ah, a sensible purchase," Ivan replied with a knowing smile. "I know just the place. They sell cloaks that come with built-in weather magic—keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer. You might want to look into it."
They continued through the market, with Ivan pointing out more shops as they went along. Despite the war raging in the world beyond the capital's walls, the heart of the city seemed to hum with its own, slower rhythm—a world where magic was woven into the mundane, and life went on, despite everything.
Cedar couldn't help but feel a sense of peace as he wandered the streets, knowing that this was the place where he would make his next move, his next step toward the future.