WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 305: Stake (3)
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In the north, at a small camp in Finnomia.
Toibo Hakae glided down the snowy slope with a deer across his shoulders.
Whee... Wheeee... Wheee...
He whistled at the agreed pitches.
A door was set into the side of the snow-covered hill where Toibo arrived.
It was an underground barracks. They had dug deep into the earth, lined the walls with logs, and covered the log roof with snow, leaving only a chimney sticking out.
After giving the password to the sentry at the entrance, Toibo ducked inside.
“Oh, Sergeant. What's that?”
Yurho, a soldier from the same platoon, looked up from beside the stove.
“Caught it on the way back.”
Toibo put the deer down. He had already drained its blood and gutted it in the forest.
“We're having a feast today.”
“Make some of it into jerky.”
“Yes, Sergeant!”
Yurho dragged the deer farther inside. Cheers soon rang out.
A proud smile spread across Hakae's face without him realizing it.
This was for his homeland and his comrades. All of them were standing together against the enormous nation of Lobrus.
Afterward, Hakae went to the company commander's dugout.
It was very cramped, but there was a proper table with a telephone and a map on it.
“You're back?”
Captain Kauko. A former member of a foreign legion who liked to drink.
“Yes. I killed three of them, including a sniper.”
“Sounds like you won.”
The company commander chuckled.
“Word about you is spreading back home too.”
Toibo Hakae's kill count had already passed the hundred mark.
Stories had spread from the company to the regiment, then from the regiment to the division. Last week, a newspaper back home had devoted a whole page to Toibo. No name or photograph, only “a marksman defending the homeland.”
“You're too kind.”
Hakae simply liked knowing that he was working for his homeland.
Being able to put my gift for shooting to use for my family, for the comrades who had already fallen, was rewarding enough.
“Oh, right. Someone donated a fine rifle too.”
The company commander picked up a rifle. Toibo smiled and shook his head.
“I'm fine, thank you.”
“...I thought so.”
“Yes. My rifle is more perfect than anything else in the world.”
It was the rifle Maximilian of the Empire had given Toibo as a prize for winning the shooting competition. It had been with him for years now, hunting, practicing, and even sleeping. That rifle had become like Hakae's own soul.
“Please give it to another good shot.”
“Recommend someone.”
“...Yurho. They're an excellent shot too, so...”
“It's a package!”
A sudden shout came from outside, followed by footsteps that sounded almost like an earthquake.
“Captain! Another package!”
The door to the company commander's office opened, and a package was carried inside.
“Hmm.”
These boxes turned up from time to time.
Sometimes they washed ashore. Sometimes patrols found them buried in the snow... No one knew who sent them, but these gift packages always reached Finnomia's soldiers.
The company commander opened it.
Inside were coffee, cigarettes, socks, sugar, chocolate, cloth, frostbite ointment, hand warmers, writing paper, ballpoint pens, and more. It was full of things that would do wonders for the soldiers' morale.
“There are three more boxes!”
No one asked where they came from, but most of these things weren't produced in Finnomia, so...
“The Empire.”
At Hakae's words, the company commander's eyebrows twitched.
“...Take something as a reward. Whatever you want.”
Hakae took coffee, socks, cigarettes, white cloth, and ointment, then left.
Platoon members immediately gathered around, as though they had caught on. Toibo handed out the cigarettes.
“Thank you!”
“Three each. If anyone takes more, I'll shoot them on the spot.”
“Of course, Sergeant!”
Cigarettes were the worst thing for a sniper. The moment you lit one, death seemed to flicker before your eyes.
“Never smoke at the front.”
“Yes, Sergeant!”
“All right!”
“Hurry up and hand them out! Hey! You heard the sergeant! Take more and you'll get shot!”
“Hey! Be careful with that. You're going to tear it!”
Toibo watched their happy faces for a long time, then went alone to his bunk.
With the rifle beside his shoulder, he finally settled down to sleep.
...
Crackle. Crackle.
A campfire burned in a village near Prozen's border. Allied soldiers were camped there.
“...Get ready to relieve them.”
In the distance, a line of soldiers could be seen returning from the trenches.
“...”
The returning soldiers leaned their rifles against a wall and held their hands out toward the fire first. No one spoke until their fingers could straighten.
Then their eyes turned toward something.
Trudge. Trudge.
Footsteps approached through the darkness.
Trudge. Trudge.
Even their strides and their figures were different. The man at the front carried a machete over his shoulder. Behind him, two hulking figures carried a beast that looked like a moose, hanging from a pole between them.
The two set the beast down, skinned it, and placed the whole thing over the fire.
Sizzzzzle.
As the meat cooked, sprinkled with salt and pepper, a delicious smell drifted through the air. The soldiers licked their lips, but only watched. They didn't dare approach.
“What are you all doing?”
Then their leader turned his head.
“Come and eat. There's enough meat here for hundreds.”
The soldiers glanced at one another, then slowly made their way over. They sat beside the roasting meat.
The man cut pieces off with his machete and handed them out.
“...It is you, isn't it?”
Someone cautiously asked as they held out a plate.
“The one who kills Imperial soldiers by impaling them on stakes...”
Appen Kondo.
He chuckled and handed over a whole large chunk.
* * *
At dawn the next day, we split up. We had agreed to search independently, and after getting supplies from a nearby military unit, I walked along a snowy mountain path.
“How's everyone doing?”
Tiana's voice came from the communicator.
“...I found a body with a stake driven through it. Looks like it's been here a while.”
Leon answered.
“Me too. It looks like they've killed quite a few people.”
Listening to them, I searched for traces of the enemy.
There would definitely be Izenheim among them. Once I got close enough, my heart would know first.
As I kept walking...
“...”
The roof of a guard post appeared in the distance.
At some point, I had crossed the border into Prozen.
“I'm in Prozen. Be aware that I might lose contact for a while.”
“Understood.”
“Understood.”
As this showed, knights didn't bother worrying about one another.
I took out the mana stone earpiece and tucked it deep inside my clothes. Then I adjusted my appearance.
Shhhh.
Changing my hair color was easy. It was called “illusion magic.” I covered my hair with a thin layer of mana to dye it temporarily. My blond hair turned brown, and I hid my eyes beneath the brim of my hat.
I also deliberately stuffed my pack until it bulged. Then I spent several hours roaming the mountains like a peddler.
“Hey, you!”
Around sunset, someone jumped out from behind a tree.
“Who are you?”
Three Prozen soldiers. They aimed their rifles at me with deeply suspicious looks.
“Answer us! Are you an Imperial?!”
They pointed their rifles as though they might shoot me dead at any moment. It was probably because fighting broke out here and there along the border. However harsh the winter, this was still wartime. Patrols, ambushes, and clashes were common.
But they were patient, and that patience saved lives.
Their lives.
I spoke.
“D-don't shoot. I'm a peddler, is all...”
That single sentence.
“...Huh?”
The soldiers' tension drained away. They exchanged strange looks, then...
“Pfft!”
“Ha!”
All three burst out laughing at once.
“Are you from Ganyu?”
“Ah, yes. That I am.”
They lowered their rifles.
Speaking standard Prozen might leave them wondering. But if I used the dialect of Ganyu, a nearby region that was considered quite rural even in Prozen, they wouldn't even consider the possibility that I was an Imperial.
No matter how suspicious the place someone emerged from, an Imperial spy had no reason to learn the Ganyu dialect.
One soldier asked,
“Why'd you come all the way up here?”
“To earn a bit of money.”
“Hmm... Got anything to sell?”
“Sure have.”
I put down my pack. As I went to take out a few packs of cigarettes, matches, soap, needles, and thread, I deliberately dropped something.
“Oh, dear.”
A pocket watch issued to Imperial officers.
As I hurried to put it away...
“...Wait.”
A soldier caught my hand.
“What's this?”
“Ah, well, that's...”
I acted. I made my eyes dart about and swallowed hard.
“Explain yourself.”
The soldiers raised their rifles again.
“W-well... I found a body with a stake driven through it...”
I let my voice tremble naturally.
I stripped belongings from corpses and sold them. That was how I made my living. I had plenty of other things too. A pistol, a leather wallet, a belt with a buckle, and an engraved razor.
“...”
It must have sounded fairly convincing. They lowered their rifles again.
“Aren't you scared? You could get shot doing that.”
“I've got good eyes, and I'm quick on my feet... Besides, are cities any safer? Without money, it's even harder to get by there than here.”
That drew a dry laugh, as though they agreed to some extent.
“We need to look into this a little more, so come with us. We'll be confiscating the pistol.”
They gestured for me to follow.
As I walked behind them, I scratched a mark into a tree with my fingernail.
...
A village in the rear, a reasonable distance from the border.
Prozen soldiers had made it their camp. They seemed to be using a few borrowed houses.
“He says he's a peddler.”
Mathieu, the young soldier who had brought me here, introduced me to the others.
“...What's a peddler doing out there?”
“Well, it's a bit of a long story. He's from Ganyu.”
“Ganyu?”
I looked around at them for a moment.
Ordinary young people watching me with suspicious eyes.
Yet the moment I opened my mouth and they heard my dialect, they burst out laughing.
“Oh, now that's a welcome accent. Really takes you back. What did you just say?”
“...Just said it's good to meet you, is all.”
“Hahaha!”
“Well, it's very nice to meet you too! Ahahaha!”
If not for the war, they would probably have been at home, at work, or with their families.
I couldn't turn away from them.
I had to take in every one of them.
“Have a seat here.”
As the only civilian, I drew plenty of interest from the soldiers. Of course, they were deeply suspicious too. A junior officer asked for identification, and I held out a torn scrap of paper.
The officer nodded, then asked whether I could give them some soap, writing paper, and socks for free. When I agreed and handed them over, the officer smiled and walked away. Mathieu apologized in their place.
“I hear Ganyu has a famous stone bridge. Is it still there?”
“You know that goat's cheese they only make there, right? The really smelly one.”
“Was market day in Ganyu on Thursday or Friday?”
They kept throwing questions at me, as though checking my story.
The names of my hometown and its bridge, which day the market was held, and what the local specialties were.
But not one piece of information I had memorized was wrong.
It was like a set of drawers. It felt as though I actually had drawers inside my head, ready to open whenever I needed them.
Probably because those memories didn't belong to “me.”
I was simply looking through the memories of the virus inside my body.
“...My hometown was bombed.”
On top of that, I gave them a made-up story.
My house had burned down in the bombing. The son I had raised had died, and my daughter had been badly injured. That was why I had to sell everything I could to pay her hospital bills.
“...”
The mood grew somber for a moment. The soldiers put cigarettes between their lips.
“We'll buy all your cigarettes.”
“...Thank you. But...”
I carefully brought it up.
“What are those stakes about? All those bodies had stakes driven through them...”
They exchanged quick glances.
“It's a special forces unit. Hard to say exactly who they belong to... Think of them as people who can stand up to knights.”
That was Mathieu.
“Keinos, I'm telling you. They're fucking strong. They wiped out every last Imperial Guard bastard occupying Aloton.”
“They brought a moose here once. It was delicious.”
“I heard they don't run even when an Imperial knight drops out of the sky. They actually wait for them.”
Strong and strange superhumans from Prozen. Those Hailand bastards called them Hailand superhumans, but they were from Prozen, weren't they?
Comments like that went back and forth several times.
“...Still, the stakes were a bit much.”
Mathieu muttered in a rather bitter tone. Someone opposite frowned.
“What was a bit much?”
Whoooooosh.
As the blizzard raged, a man challenged Mathieu.
“Think about what those Imperial bastards have done to us. You all know what they're doing in the Camps. And you're saying a few stakes are too much?”
The bastard saying that was Izenheim.
My heart was pounding.
Mathieu scratched the back of their neck.
“...Even so, there are other ways...”
“What other ways? Tell me! Those bastards are throwing six- and seven-year-old kids into Camps!”
At the Izenheim's shout, Mathieu pressed their lips shut. The other soldiers didn't bother adding anything. It seemed they all already knew he was Izenheim.
...There were six Izenheim staying at this camp, including him.
“Then, have you ever... seen those superhumans in person?”
I asked about Keinos.
Once again, Mathieu answered.
“They come down to rest sometimes.”
They came down to rest sometimes.
That meant I could wait here and welcome them.
“And... I understand your situation, but...”
Mathieu put a hand on my shoulder.
“If you can, go back to Ganyu. You could die here as soon as tomorrow.”
Speaking warmly, Mathieu handed me something.
Five Prozen banknotes.
Only five notes to me, but quite a large sum for an ordinary person.
“This... Why?”
“...I've got nothing to spend it on anyway. No family either.”
At my blank stare, Mathieu gave a small, embarrassed smile and shook their head.
“...”
Seeing such a gentle young person made me certain of a truth about war once again.
In hell, the good ones died first.
It was unavoidable. Almost the natural order of things.
...
Late at night, when most people were asleep.
I stepped away from the camp for a moment and smoked a cigarette.
Fssss...
Even beneath the blizzard, its glow flickered faintly. As cigarette smoke drifted away, a voice reached my ear.
“Confirmed.”
Tiana.
“Confirmed.”
Leon.
They had followed the marks I had left on my way here. They would have taken positions somewhere up on the ridge, overlooking the village.
I spoke quietly.
“Stand by.”
Sentries were still making their rounds in the camp. Armed soldiers stood at the guard posts, and a machine gun was positioned near the entrance.
All of them would be cut down by knights' blades.
“Max. You didn't bring a helmet, did you?”
Leon asked.
“I don't need one.”
I had no need for one. Helmets had been invented to ease guilt.
I had made them mandatory for knights, but I alone was an exception.
“I'll signal when Keinos arrives.”
I would willingly face my guilt.
I would remember everyone I killed.
“Understood.”
“Understood.”
“...”
I took something out of my pocket.
Whoooooosh...
The falling snowflakes dampened them. Their corners fluttered endlessly in the wind.
Five crumpled Prozen banknotes.
Looking at the numbers printed on them, I murmured,
“...In hell, the good ones die first.”
I had often heard things like that in war and in the army, but...
Couldn't five banknotes be enough to pay for a life?
Fssssss!
At that moment, a shadow stirred beyond the suddenly fierce blizzard.
Thump!
The ones who made my heart pound.
I folded the banknotes and put them in my inside pocket.
“Get ready.”
To thaw my frozen hands and feet, I quietly drew up my mana.
Footnotes:
Ganyu's rural dialect sounds familiar and amusing to the soldiers. Its local character also makes an Imperial spy seem unlikely.
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