Second Life as a Soldier

After checking everyone and providing first aid where needed, I ordered the squad to begin mana recovery.

We were still inside Tier Three territory. The chances of another beast wandering into this clearing were low, especially after the disturbance we had caused, but the smell of blood could attract scavengers. We needed to recover as quickly as possible.

By the time night fell, most of us had regained a decent portion of our mana.

I sat with everyone in front of the campfire, contemplating as Silas prepared mammoth meat for us. No matter how much respect that beast had gained, no one in their right mind would refuse Tier-3 beast mana-rich meat, especially when the whole squad was low on mana and riddled with injuries.

I myself was not in the best shape. I had a broken nose, broken ribs, and internal tears because of forcing too much mana through my legs and hands using [Mana Reinforcement (UC)], but that was not my concern. Within a day or two, my broken bones should heal, while the tears in my body because of [Mana Reinforcement (UC)] showed what I needed to work on.

These tears were caused because [Mana Reinforcement (UC)] was not a class skill, and none of my class skills had trained my body to handle that much mana. Lieutenant Cicero was angry when he found out that [Mana Reinforcement (UC)] was not my class skill, yet I relied on it so heavily.

I had revealed it to him during one of the training sessions when he became curious about the mana burns on my hand after the beast tide. After that, he provided me with a book detailing skill progression, even outlining best practices for skill selection, skill synergy, and skill fusion. According to it, mana-related skills should be part of one’s class skills, and during combat, at Tier Three, a practitioner should have minimal reliance on general skills.

My real concern was today’s fight.

Two things bothered me: how Corvin had managed to injure me without triggering the mana oath, and how weak we truly were. During the battle, I had not fully registered some of the close calls, but now, as I sat replaying it in my head, everything became clearer.

Though the squad had performed well in coordination, on an individual level we were lacking. Peter, a Tier Two, had played only a minimal role. Oren and the other Tier Ones were far behind when it came to spear technique. Even I was lacking. The fight would not have taken this long if I had not had the new spear and shield, and I could not continue relying on them. Depending too much on equipment is the easiest way to slow down skill progression... or die.

The only saving grace was that the lieutenant’s shield had significantly boosted my [Mana Manipulation] skill.

As for the oath…

The more I replayed the moment, the more one possibility stood out.

Corvin may not have consciously attacked me.

There was a strong possibility that he had been trying to reach Oren, and my face had simply been in his way. If that was the case, it opened up a number of potential loopholes that conscripts could exploit. But this was not the time to dwell on that. My squad had earned my goodwill in this fight, and becoming suspicious of them now would not help. Still, it was something I needed to keep in mind for the future.

“Sergeant,” Brakk said, passing me a plate of beast meat.

“Don’t mind me asking, Sergeant, but did Corvin’s death really affect you that much?” Rokan asked, sitting near me. His question made me frown.

“I am not affected by his death. Why would you think that?” I asked. Even if he had not been a traitor, it would have been difficult for his death to affect me deeply. After losing so many friends during my first beast tide, I had grown somewhat accustomed to loss. And I had known him for less than a month.

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“Well… you have been staring at the fire since we buried him,” Daren answered instead of Rokan.

I had asked Daren, Oren, and Rokan to bury Corvin’s body while Garran butchered the mammoth. We collected large leg bones, some meat, the long front tusks, and several stones from the top of its back. They were rich in Earth-affinity mana and could be used in runes, but the majority of the carcass was dragged a few meters away.

“HAHA,” I burst out laughing at Daren’s reply. Even Barry and Varric joined in.

They were familiar with my habit of contemplation, and Oren, Rokan, and Daren looked utterly confused, which only made it worse.

The tension eased instantly.

It reminded me that most of the newer members were still simple men. Silas remained unreadable, but he had stepped forward to protect me earlier. That mattered.

Barry and Varric kept me on my toes, creating issues wherever they could. I was not prepared to handle more volatile elements, though even my concerns about them were beginning to ease. They had performed exceptionally well during today’s battle and followed my commands flawlessly.

“I am not affected by his death. I am just going through the battle we had today and thinking about how we can improve in the future,” I said after I stopped laughing.

“How are you all feeling? How is your mana looking?” I almost fumbled the sentence.

I was not in the habit of making conversation, but I just realized that this was a good time to know more about my squad, not just about their combat capabilities but also about their past.

But none answered my question. Most of them looked surprised by it. Finally, Peter answered from the side.

“We are recovering well, but it will take at least tonight to recover completely.”

I sighed.

“You all don’t have to worry about speaking your mind to me,” I said.

“So, Rokan and Daren, how was life at the quarry?” I asked, once again trying to start a conversation.

“Much tougher than here.” Rokan said, surprising me.

“I think killing those guys was the best thing we did,” Daren said, nodding as if supporting Rokan’s statement.

I gulped at his sentence and looked at Peter. I could almost feel him judging me.

Thankfully, Rokan’s next statement reduced the judgment in Peter’s eyes.

“Yeah, those guys at the quarry would hardly let us eat, and no one has bullied us since we have come here.”

“At what age did you join the quarry?” I asked

Both brothers were the youngest in the group except for me, only twenty years old, but even at that age they seemed too unaware of how the world worked. They had even called me “boss” a few times, a sign that they hardly knew anything beyond the quarry.

“Our old man died when we were twelve, so after that,” Daren said casually.

His casual statement shifted the atmosphere around the campfire once more.

Daren’s words reminded me of waking up in a pile of garbage after my father’s death. Maybe if my past self had not been so weak, I might have ended up in a quarry or a mine as well. I was sure that forcing young kids into labor was not legal, judging by the frown on Peter’s face, but everyone present here knew that the outside world could often be crueler than the army, especially for the poor and weak.

So instead of dwelling on those thoughts, I moved to Oren and Brakk, asking about their work in caravans and the places they had visited.

Slowly, the conversation started flowing naturally, everyone contributing stories about places they had visited. Silas shared stories about the merchant district. The conversations only stopped when Varric shared a story of his raids, after which everyone went to sleep while Varric, Daren, and I took the first shift of night watch.

The next watch would be Garran, Barry, and Peter.

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When everyone woke up in the morning, I gathered everyone.

“My previous mentor, Walter, gave me this chain. The fang came from the strongest beast his squad had hunted. He told me he wanted me to carry on this tradition when I led my own squad.”

I paused, letting my words sink in.

“Yesterday, we hunted our strongest beast.”

“So this morning, I polished pieces of the mammoth’s tusk and made these chains,” I said, handing one to each of them.

For a moment, no one spoke.

I had been carrying these chains since I became sergeant, mostly to honor Walter’s wishes, but I had not been sure about starting his ritual with the Death Squad.

Yesterday had answered that question.

We needed something that bound us beyond orders.

Rokan and Daren held their chains carefully, as if they had never owned anything valuable before.

Barry examined his with narrowed eyes.

Peter’s expression was unreadable, while Kael smiled as he accepted the chain from my hand.

“Also, starting tomorrow, we will begin combat practice in the form of a tournament,” I said once everyone had finished admiring them. I had carved the first letter of each of their names into the tusk.

“One-on-one sparring sessions daily. The winner of each session gets the night watch off,” I added with a smile.

Unity alone would not be enough for this squad. While we trained in formation and basic spear handling, most of them had poor technique. My plan was to use these sparring sessions to refine their skills. Even Barry and Garran needed to improve their spear technique.