WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Asakusa

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◈ Veteran of the Northern Front ◈

Chapter 3: Punishment Trooper Ubel Graum (2)

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A year from now,

that is, Imperial Year 387, would be a year of great significance.

It was when the game's main story began in earnest with the disaster known as the Great Invasion.

[Great Invasion]

An event in which barbarian tribes attack the Empire simultaneously, marking the beginning of a chaotic age across the Empire.

After the Great Invasion, the Empire slowly declines, and an age arrives in which lords across every region reveal their ambitions and fight for supremacy.

'But that's something for later.'

What mattered now was the Great Invasion.

The Northern Front, where I was currently stationed, would be the first region to fall during the Great Invasion.

With officers and commanders dying left and right, what were the chances that I, a penal soldier, would survive?

For all I knew, a camel had better odds of passing through the eye of a needle.

Of course, it wasn't completely hopeless.

Penal soldiers could earn pardons through distinguished service. If I used that system to earn merit before the Great Invasion, I could get away from the front somehow.

'For now, the answer is to earn a pardon and escape the north.'

It was a bleak situation, but I decided to trust myself. More precisely, the knowledge I had built up through over five thousand hours of playing the game.

I knew what events would unfold from here on out.

I knew what choices to make, so what couldn't I do?

But before that...

"What's this? Your back's sagging? Why don't you just lie down already?"

"S-sorry!"

"Anyone who collapses will keep their head down until tonight. Got it?"

"...................."

"Answer me. Got it?"

"Yes..."

First, I needed to do something about these bastards.

＊＊＊＊＊

That evening.

Berun's office.

"...And that was the disturbance."

Berun let out a faint laugh as he listened to Pellon's report.

"He beat every one of them down? At least we won't have to worry about trouble managing the troops."

"Yes. His methods are harsh, but at that rate, he'll have all the penal soldiers under control within a few days."

Penal soldiers followed the logic of strength to the letter.

Even if someone was their superior, they would not acknowledge anyone weaker than themselves.

That was why so many squad commanders suffered headaches over managing their men. Yet Ubel had resolved the matter with ease.

"His martial skill appears to be as outstanding as his size."

"Hmm, is that so?"

Berun had heard rumors about the Graum family and Ubel.

A tragic man framed because his stepmother bribed a judge, then robbed of his inheritance by his half-brother.

Fortunately, Ubel had retained his noble status. But even if he completed his service and returned to his family, there was almost no chance of reclaiming his rights.

'Perhaps staying in the army would be better for him...'

Berun still vividly remembered Ubel naturally taking a salute that nobody had properly taught him.

He had probably remembered the posture the soldiers used and copied it.

But in a situation where he had been dragged in as a penal soldier and must have been utterly confused, remembering it and putting it into practice was far from easy. Berun could not help but think more highly of him.

'He has the strength to bring the penal soldiers to heel in one stroke, along with the awareness to observe those around him. He's perfectly suited to command.'

From a centurion's perspective, a capable squad commander was always welcome.

"Since he hasn't been here long, keep a close eye on him yourself for the time being. Make sure no problems arise."

"Understood."

"And if he seems ready, put him on duty immediately."

"Yes."

Originally, Berun had intended to give him about a month to adjust.

But Berun felt Ubel would fully adapt to the unit within a week.

＊

＊

＊

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Meanwhile.

As Berun smiled in satisfaction,

a chilly atmosphere filled Ubel's squad tent.

"Hey. Max, are we really doing this?"

"Of course. You want to just take this lying down?"

"Well, no, but..."

It was the middle of the night, when everyone was asleep.

Martin, the second-most senior member of the squad, and Max, the most senior, watched Ubel.

They were planning to get revenge for what had happened during the day while he slept.

'Absolutely...'

'We can't let this slide.'

He had become squad commander as soon as he arrived just because he was a noble?

Fine. It had annoyed them, but they could accept it now.

They had personally witnessed that he was strong and highly skilled.

But they could not just let themselves be beaten like this.

'If we keep getting dragged around by this bastard...'

'We'll be beaten to death before our service even ends.'

They wanted to be treated like people, at the very least. So this was not so much an attempt to hurt him as a final desperate effort to improve their treatment.

"Then... let's go."

Nod!

After exchanging the signal, the two slowly approached Ubel, swallowing dryly as they carried a rope and a club.

Just as they drew close,

Fwap!

The blanket covering Ubel wrapped around Martin's face.

"Urk?!"

Before Martin could even panic, his vision flipped, and he was slammed into the floor.

"Aagh!"

"Martin?!"

Max gasped and tried to rush to Martin.

"Uh...?"

But Max could only let out a short cry upon seeing the huge fist that had somehow appeared right in front of him.

＊＊＊＊＊

"How is it that you two never stray even a little from what I expect?"

"Ugh..."

Max and Martin rolled across the floor.

The squad members inside the tent darted their eyes around helplessly at the attempted assassination(?) in the middle of the night.

"What? Did you think you could handle me if you attacked while I was asleep?"

"Th-that's not..."

"What do you mean, it's not, you bastard?"

They might have had their own reasons for doing this, but there were two things they hadn't known.

One was that I had already expected something like this to happen.

The other was that I was a light sleeper.

'This suddenly reminds me of the old days.'

When I was deployed overseas during my military service.

Once, a bomb got delivered to us at dawn.

It had scared the hell out of me.

Fortunately, I hadn't been seriously injured, but after that incident, I became a light sleeper.

'Fuck, now that I think about it, I'm getting pissed off again.'

Thud!

"Argh!"

After giving Max another beating for reminding me of old trauma, I asked the large soldier lying beside Max.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"M-Martin."

"And?"

"Pardon?"

"Is that all you've got to say in an introduction?"

"I-I've been in this squad the second longest after Max."

So Martin was basically second-most senior.

Those bastards had woken me up completely anyway.

I decided to use the chance to finish learning about everyone in the unit.

"Next. The rest of you, introduce yourselves in order of enlistment."

"Yes, sir! My name is Walter. I used to be a hunter, but I got dragged here after beating up a landlord's son who was causing trouble in my village."

"I'm Raul... I enlisted around the same time as this bastard Walter. Before that, I worked for a small merchant company."

"My name is Kram."

Kram's dark skin was rare in the north. They were probably from the west.

"M-my name is Jackson."

"That's it?"

"I-I learned to work as an herbalist, so I'm good at finding my way through mountain paths."

Okay.

You're our scout.

"My name is Marco. I turned nineteen this year."

"Wait. You're nineteen?"

"That's right."

"Then why is your hair..."

"Pardon?"

"No... never mind."

Marco.

The shine already showing on Marco's head made him a deeply worrying soldier.

'High chance of becoming a special-concern soldier. Note that down.'

Only one person remained.

"M-my name is Ren... I'm good at odd jobs like sewing."

Hmm. The youngest, and the household caretaker.

Good. I had a rough grasp of everyone now.

After storing the details of the squad members in my head, I turned back to Max and Martin.

"Still, I never expected you two, who look like the biggest idiots here, to be the most senior."

"........................"

"Tch. What a pathetic pair."

I understood that they had schemed to get revenge.

What kind of man would simply accept being beaten?

If they had only lowered their heads without any backbone, I would have been more disappointed.

But...

"You bastards are senior soldiers. If you were going to do it, you should've done it properly."

"Aagh!"

I smacked Max on the head and swept a cold gaze over the others.

"I'm not saying this just to these two."

"........................"

"Remember this. Half-hearted resolve only hastens your own death. Anyone who gets consumed by a momentary emotion and lashes out is nothing but a loudmouthed bastard."

"T-then what are we supposed to do?"

Ren, who had a gentle-looking face, asked me.

"What are you supposed to do?"

"...Yes."

"Think and judge."

It was a habit that would help greatly not just in the army, but in life.

If they couldn't even do something this simple?

'Then they'll just die, I guess.'

Many things would happen in the Empire from now on, and surviving them would require at least a minimum amount of resolve.

"Constantly analyze and assess how to take down your opponent, and how wide the gap is between you and them."

"........................"

"If you can't find an answer, then bow your head, lie flat on the ground, grit your teeth, and endure. If you can't become a cold-blooded wolf, then at least become a rat. Cowardly rats survive longer than reckless bastards in this world."

They could not confuse courage with recklessness.

Taking on something impossible was not courage. It was recklessness.

"But if you still don't have the confidence to properly distinguish the two and act accordingly, then trust and follow someone who can think and judge."

"Do you mean someone like you, Lord Ubel?"

"I won't deny it."

Acknowledging one's own shortcomings and following another person was also an ability.

'A dog that barks on its own is treated as nothing but a mad dog.'

But a dog that barked to protect its master was treated as a loyal hound and valued dearly.

If they lacked the confidence to become wolves themselves, it was wiser to become loyal hounds at the very least.

I was giving them an opportunity.

An opportunity to struggle through the chaotic age that lay ahead.

Perhaps they had felt something from my words.

The soldiers' expressions grew serious.

"Th-then... urgh, may I ask just one thing?"

Max, who had been thoroughly beaten, painfully pushed himself upright and spoke.

"We've all lived lowly lives. Outside, we're the kind of flies whose heads could roll at a single word from nobles like you, Lord Ubel."

"So what you're asking is how you can trust me."

"That's right. We're people too. If we trust and follow you, Lord Ubel, we need to believe that we can survive here without dying as meat shields."

"Trust, huh? I'll be honest. I can't guarantee that all of you will survive just because you follow me."

I could not even guarantee my own life right now. I had no desire to spout groundless nonsense like, "Trust me, and every one of you will get out of here alive."

"But I can promise you this."

"..................."

"If you follow me, at least you won't die pointlessly without accomplishing anything."

Whether I would become a loyal hound or a wolf myself,

I still could not say for certain.

But I intended to do whatever it took to survive.

"...Is that so."

After hearing my answer, the squad members looked at one another for a moment. Then they nodded and all dropped to their knees.

"From this moment on, we will serve Lord Ubel as our leader!"

"We look forward to serving under you!!"

"I look forward to working with all of you as well."

On my first day after transmigrating,

I won the squad members' recognition and their loyalty.

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