Chapter 496
I'll Do My Best. (1)
Ghislain smiled, clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly. He couldn't afford to cause trouble here there was something far more important ahead.
With a trembling smile, he spoke.
"I understand that personal maintenance is a principle we are supposed to handle ourselves."
One of the senior soldiers widened his eyes and asked,
"What kind of army does that?"
"……."
"Where the hell do you find an army that actually follows such rules? You idiot."
"……."
"Hah, kids these days. They have no clue how the world works."
The man stood up from his seat and walked toward Ghislain.
"My name is Viktor. I'm the squad leader here. Since you're a rookie, I'll personally be in charge of your training. Got it?"
Viktor lightly tapped Ghislain’s neck as he continued.
"Why aren’t you answering? Do you think the military is a joke?"
"……No, sir."
"Or do you think your time in the army is over already?"
"……."
"Go do the laundry. Right now. Unless you want me to beat you like a dog. Or go ahead and snitch to the higher-ups if you dare."
Should I just kill him?
Ghislain was still smiling, though his lips trembled slightly. He wanted to kill this man, but he had to hold back.
He could easily snap Viktor’s neck with mana threads without anyone noticing. But if he actually did? This squad might get excluded from the negotiations.
It was customary to leave out any unit that had an incident before an important meeting.
Maybe I could just beat him up a little?
That was risky too. Not a single mishap could occur if he wanted this squad to make it to the negotiations safely.
You bastard, I’m remembering your face.
"What are you standing there for? Move!"
"……Yes, sir."
Ghislain picked up a pile of clothes and went off to do the laundry. His lips stuck out in a slight pout as he scrubbed.
"Ugh, seriously. This kind of military hazing needs to go."
Maybe the Fenris forces should conduct a surprise inspection sometime. Their military discipline was said to be strict enough to prevent such things, but one could never be sure.
After all, they had been continuously recruiting new soldiers lately.
Besides, the Northern Army was an amalgamation of troops from different territories. There was no guarantee that military corruption wouldn’t creep in.
For them to function at peak combat efficiency, such nonsense had to be eliminated. Ghislain decided that it was time to reinforce discipline once again.
"Lucas used to be good at handling this stuff."
Lucas had been in the same mercenary corps as Ghislain in his past life. Back when he was the youngest in the group, he had been exceptionally skilled at doing laundry.
Suddenly, Ghislain found himself missing that familiar face. It hadn’t been that long since they parted ways.
After finishing the laundry, he returned only to be met with another task: maintaining the soldiers' weapons.
Damn, this is disgusting.
The condition of their equipment was atrocious. It made him painfully aware of just how low the standards of the kingdom’s regular soldiers had fallen.
It was understandable, though. They had recently been decimated and only recently restructured. On top of that, they had accepted all sorts of stragglers to replenish their numbers.
Ever since Marquis Branford's downfall, their supply lines had been in disarray, so it was only natural that their equipment was in terrible shape.
But still… to let discipline deteriorate this much?
The Royal Army he had known before wasn’t like this. Their former Supreme Commander, Marquis Maurice McQuarrie, had at least been meticulous about military upkeep.
But now? It was obvious that they were more focused on sheer numbers than actual effectiveness.
Ghislain pulled out a cloth and some oil, then started polishing and sharpening the weapons of his so-called seniors. He meticulously checked for any defects, fixing whatever needed repair.
Honestly, he could have finished in an instant, but for now, he had to keep his skills under wraps.
Even so, his remarkable maintenance skills left the soldiers in shock.
"W-Whoa, what the hell?"
"Why is he so fast?"
"The weapons are shining!"
Even those who had been slacking off abandoned their tasks to crowd around and watch. None of them had ever seen someone handle weapon maintenance so flawlessly.
Even Viktor, wearing a slightly uneasy expression, asked,
"You… were you in the military before? Don't tell me you were with the Delfine forces?"
Recently, soldiers from the ducal faction had been joining various units, and the existing Royal Army troops didn’t dare look down on them.
Not only were they more skilled, but they carried an overwhelming presence that regular soldiers couldn’t match.
As a result, when the Royal Army was reorganized, most of those soldiers were placed in the toughest, most elite combat units.
Ghislain shook his head.
"I was in the military. But not the Delfine forces."
"Then where—?"
"Raypold’s forces."
"Holy You mean that Countess Raypold? The one who just took over a bunch of eastern territories?"
"Yes. I was with her forces for a while before coming here."
Ghislain didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was a former(?) soldier. No matter how much one tried to disguise it, the traces of having served in the military were hard to erase.
Of course, he couldn't go around using the names of Fenris or Ferdium, so he made use of Raypold’s name instead.
It was a convenient lie since he was well-acquainted with Raypold’s commanders and military structure.
Viktor, curious, asked,
“But how did you end up all the way here? That fortress doesn’t let people out easily, does it?”
“Oh, I’m originally from the East. I was forcibly conscripted during the Eastern battle and got released afterward.”
“Yeah? And yet, you’re back to being a soldier?”
“Well, the world is in chaos these days. It’s hard to farm or do business, isn’t it? I also heard rumors that His Majesty has regained his health, so I enlisted in the Kingdom’s army.”
At those words, Viktor and the other soldiers gave Ghislain looks of sympathy.
“You should’ve just gone back to Raypold’s army.”
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“No… never mind.”
Viktor smacked his lips. The Kingdom’s army had become a place where once you enlisted, it was nearly impossible to leave.
Every military had mandatory service periods, but the real issue was something else.
After some hesitation, Viktor let out a sigh. Ghislain was a newcomer, but he couldn’t just keep this to himself.
“Hey, rookie. Listen up.”
“To what?”
“You know about the Northern Army, right? And their commander?”
For a moment, Ghislain’s eyes turned cold. He even considered whether he should kill the man standing before him.
As he slowly raised his hand, an unexpected remark came out of Viktor’s mouth.
“We might end up fighting against that terrifying Northern Army.”
“…What?”
“You don’t know about the Northern Army? You haven’t heard of Count Fenris?”
“I’ve… heard rumors.”
“Yeah, we’re supposed to fight that monstrous army that’s said to be the strongest in the Kingdom.”
“Why… are we fighting them?”
Viktor glanced around warily before speaking. The other soldiers gathered around Ghislain, eager to discuss the topic.
Lately, the biggest rumor among them was the possibility of war with the Northern Army.
“There’s talk that the Northern Army’s commander disobeyed His Majesty’s orders.”
“Yeah, and that’s why they’re joining forces with the ducal family to take down the Northern Army soon.”
“If we go up against that insane army, we’re all dead.”
The soldiers' faces were filled with fear. The reputation of the Northern Army was well known. Just imagining a battle against such a terrifying force was enough to make them nervous.
As the murmurs spread, Viktor boldly shouted,
“Why are you all freaking out? Count Fenris being scary is just a rumor! Have any of you actually seen him?”
The Kingdom’s 2nd Legion had never fought alongside the Northern Army. They had never seen them in action, only heard the stories.
Of course, Viktor himself didn’t really want to fight against such a formidable army either. But as a squad leader, he couldn’t show fear.
With a confident smirk, he turned to Ghislain.
“Hey, rookie. Don’t get scared for no reason. Count Fenris is just a man, isn’t he? A spear can still pierce him. If he’s right in front of me, I’ll just stab him in the gut, and he’ll die like anyone else.”
“…I see.”
“Honestly, if I had learned mana training techniques, I’d be stronger than most knights.”
The soldiers around them nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, our squad leader really knows how to fight.”
“He’s a man born with strength.”
“When we fought the ducal family last time, he even took down a knight.”
Of course, that knight had already been gravely wounded and had collapsed from exhaustion, but it was still true that Viktor had finished him off.
Ghislain nodded soullessly.
“You must be very strong.”
“Yeah! So if we end up fighting the Northern Army, don’t panic and just follow me. Got it?”
“…Yes.”
“That bastard is just overhyped anyway. How good can a noble really be at fighting? It’s all because of the people under him.”
“…That’s true.”
“If we do fight, let’s be the ones to take down Count Fenris and earn some glory.”
“…I’ll do my best.”
“I like your spirit, rookie. You seem good at weapon maintenance, so that’ll be your job from now on. I’ll excuse you from other tasks in return.”
“……”
With that, Viktor patted Ghislain on the shoulder and returned to his spot. The other soldiers also gave him encouraging pats before walking away.
‘What the hell is this…’
Ghislain found it incredibly frustrating that he couldn’t reveal he was the commander of the Northern Army.
Not long after receiving that encouragement, it was time for dinner.
When Ghislain saw the meal he was given, he couldn’t help but wear a baffled expression.
“Huh?”
The food was atrocious. A thin, watery soup and a single piece of bread that was it.
From what he knew, the Kingdom’s military rations had been greatly improved after the drought. Fenris had been consistently supplying an enormous amount of food.
Especially chicken there had been so much of it that they had practically been drowning in it.
‘The support was cut off, but there’s no way they’ve already run out of food.’
Marquis Branford had been stockpiling those supplies carefully. He had even brought in mages to ensure proper freezing and preservation.
And yet, what he was looking at now was barely enough to keep them from starving.
Ghislain looked at Viktor and asked,
"Why is the food like this? The Raypold Army feeds their soldiers well."
No matter what else Amelia did, she made sure the soldiers were exceptionally well taken care of. The Raypold Army was famous for feeding their troops as well as Fenris.
Viktor, knowing this, smacked his lips before speaking.
"Ugh, it wasn’t always like this. Until recently, we ate pretty well too."
"Then why did it become like this?"
Viktor glanced around cautiously before lowering his voice.
"His Majesty recovered his health and took control, right? The nobles were all replaced."
"I heard about that."
"The ones at the top are skimming everything. They say they’ve taken an enormous amount of food supplies."
"……."
"Ugh, damn it. After eating well, having to eat like this is frustrating. But what can we do?"
"Can anyone even get strong on this food?"
"Still, in times like these, the military is the only place that even provides food at all."
"Is that so?"
"People in the capital can’t even get one proper meal a day. Everything they have is being taken away. At least we’re soldiers, so we get two meals a day. That’s why you should’ve just stayed with the Raypold Army."
Grumbling, Viktor brought the stale bread to his mouth. Ghislain let out a sigh.
It hadn’t even been that long since the high-ranking nobles had fallen, yet things were already in such a state.
‘There really are a lot of incompetent bastards.’
He suddenly realized how difficult it must have been for the previous nobles to keep the kingdom running.
Shaking his head, Ghislain ate his meal. It was disgustingly tasteless.
From the next day, training began. Ghislain didn’t resist and obediently participated.
Until the time came to join the negotiations, he had to properly carry out his military duties.
"One, two! One, two!"
One of the most common training exercises for soldiers was long-distance running. Building stamina was essential for enduring long marches.
Sometimes, they ran without stopping to the point of absurdity.
Soldiers were pushed until they collapsed from exhaustion, and there were even moments when they competed out of sheer pride.
After running hard for a while, soldiers started collapsing one by one with looks of horror.
"That bastard... what the hell…?"
"Why is he running so well…?"
"Wasn’t he a messenger or something before?"
Only Ghislain remained, running with a calm expression.
In reality, he was holding back his strength and adjusting his speed to seem ordinary.
Thud, thud, thud.
Soldiers collapsed onto the training ground. Ghislain clicked his tongue.
‘Jeez, why is everyone so weak? Is it because they aren’t eating properly?’
The soldiers here were beyond weak. If someone in Fenris collapsed at this level of training, they would be sent straight into special training.
But for these soldiers, their standards were so different that they all looked at Ghislain as if he were a monster.
Out of sheer pride, Viktor forced himself to keep running, panting heavily.
"Huff... you... sure... run... well..."
"Ah, yes."
"Today... huff, huff... is the first day... huff... so I let you off easy..."
"Ah, yes."
Even though Ghislain’s response was utterly devoid of enthusiasm, Viktor continued justifying himself about how much he had held back.
There was no way to hide Ghislain’s abnormality. No matter how much he tried, he simply wasn’t capable of getting exhausted from such trivial training.
It was the same for other exercises.
"Shields up!"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Shield formation training was the most critical drill for infantry. This was the one area where training officers were especially strict.
"Thrust!"
"Thrust!"
With each command, soldiers jabbed their spears through the gaps between their shields, aiming at straw dummies ahead of them.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
At first, everything seemed fine. But as time passed, the soldiers grew tired, and their stances started to break. Shields dropped, and gaps formed in their formation.
Since many recruits had recently joined, most couldn’t even thrust properly, with many spears veering off course. Their heights and angles were all over the place.
Yet, amidst the disarray, one soldier stood out.
"What the hell is with that guy?"
The instructor’s eyes widened in surprise.
Normally, after this much training, everyone would be too exhausted to maintain their stance properly. That was simply inevitable.
But this soldier was still going strong.
With unwavering precision, he held his shield and thrust his spear with perfect form. The instructor had never seen such a soldier in his entire career.
"Stop!"
The instructor halted the training and approached Ghislain.
"You, what’s your name?"
"Duggly, sir!"
The instructor nodded a few times before shouting.
"You idiots! Even a new recruit can do this properly, so what the hell are you all doing? Everyone, go run laps around the field!"
The soldiers paled as they started running again. Ghislain could only stand there blankly and watch.
The instructor smiled in satisfaction.
"In all my years in the military, I’ve never seen a soldier as diligent as you. If only the others were half as good. If anyone gives you trouble, just let me know anytime."
"…Yes, sir."
"You said you were with the Raypold Army before, right? That place really does live up to its reputation."
"……."
Amelia ended up being praised along with him, though unintentionally.
Ghislain hadn’t even been trying. In fact, he had gotten so bored he almost dozed off.
That was how vast the difference was between him and the other soldiers.
During every training session, Ghislain received endless praise from the instructors. He was praised so much that the other soldiers, grinding their teeth, didn’t dare to mess with him.
Thus, Ghislain spent his days being slightly ostracized yet "diligently" training.
A few days later, all members of the 3rd Infantry Company of the 2nd Legion gathered in the training ground.
On the high platform stood the Infantry Captain, and before him, Ghislain stood facing him.
With a dignified voice, the captain addressed the troops.
"Attention, all! We have a soldier who has shown exceptional performance and deserves recognition. That soldier is Duggly, standing before me!"
"……."
"Duggly is the pride of our army and a model for all soldiers—"
The captain’s speech dragged on, dull and monotonous.
Meanwhile, Ghislain stood in front of him with a deadpan expression.
Somehow, he had become the best soldier in the infantry company and was even receiving an award.