A Campfire of 14

I returned to the Dragoon Platoon headquarters, curious about my role in the final day of the war. I kept a sharp eye on my surroundings, wary of another attack.

A messenger, accompanied by several soldiers, summoned everyone. "By order of Lieutenant Samson of the Wallflower Company," he announced, "the sixteen remaining soldiers of Dragoon, five from Griffin, two from Lotus, and one from Thorn will merge with the Lion Platoon. A representative will arrive shortly to brief you on tomorrow's plans."

In this world, platoons consisted of roughly fifty to seventy troops. The near-annihilation of these units must have been devastating for the survivors. I, however, felt no particular connection to them. Was it even worth getting to know these people if they were likely to die tomorrow?

I noticed some striking similarities between Gaia and Earth. The platoon names, drawn from creatures of myth, and the military ranks were identical to those of my world. Had someone from Earth influenced their system? If so, there might be others like me here.

The announcement brought visible relief to most of the soldiers. Some even smiled, as if they had been granted a reprieve. But one young man remained somber.

"Father… father… father said that to be truly a man… one must enter a hundred battles. Today was my first battle, and I almost died."

A hundred battles. The same number the mysterious attacker had mentioned. What was the significance of a hundred battles?

"Are you alright?" I asked the young man.

"Everyone I came here with… they're all dead."

The psychological trauma of war was evident. This young man was deeply affected, perhaps irrevocably so.

On Earth, there were ways to counsel people like him. My own mental state was fragile, despite my experience with different kinds of "wars." Perhaps that experience had given me the strength to cope.

Psychiatry wasn't my specialty, but I knew that simply talking could ease the burden. I had promised myself to stay out of things, but maybe I could help. I decided to gather the other soldiers around a campfire.

I really don't know how to start this… but here goes, I thought.

"Hey guys, tomorrow will most likely be our last day."

Oops! Wrong choice of words. I meant of the war.

"Last day… last day of this war. Maybe we can relax and talk, just to ease the tension. It would be a shame not to know each other after winning." I gestured toward a campfire.

"Huh! What's the point if we're going to die tomorrow?" one soldier grumbled, retreating to his tent. But his comrade remained.

He's thinking the same thing I was earlier.

"That is, if we're going to die. But we won't."

The optimist in me was feeling guilty.

"Yes! We won't die!" a tall, veteran-looking soldier chimed in with a smile.

Thank you for backing me up.

Thirteen of us, including myself, gathered around the fire. Others had left or remained in their tents, waiting for the Lion Platoon representative.

"To start, how about we go around and share our names, where we're from, and…"

Hobby? No… that sounds too much like school.

"…why you're here," I finished quickly.

Silence. I had initiated this, so I hoped someone would start. I felt like the project leader, responsible for everyone's participation. Just as I was about to speak…

"I'm Horo. I came with Lancer, who just went inside. We're the only ones left from the Lotus Platoon. We're a cavalry unit from Tesma, the village blessed by the Lord of the Tesma Mountain, the chief of Horses."

Chiefs. I'd heard about them at dinner with the Lion Platoon. Certain species could be ruled by evolved individuals with human-level intelligence. There were also Unique Species, equally intelligent but solitary. I knew nothing about the Lord of the Mountain, but Sonny had mentioned Goblin Kings south of Leodorn, the Heartwood capital.

"Ooohh… I'd love to have a horse blessed by that chief…" a young soldier, about Lucas's age, said wistfully.

"The Lord only appears to those with a deep connection to their steeds," Horo replied.

Just when things were starting to flow, the conversation lulled again.

"To keep things organized… let's go clockwise."

I had noticed one of the strategists with a pocket watch, so I assumed time was measured here. I suspected, based on how my body felt and how long I'd slept, that time might flow differently here. Just a hunch.

No one seemed confused by my suggestion. The young man who had been muttering earlier stepped forward, his hands trembling.

"I'm from the Clover family! I'm Arthur Clover. All twenty of my retainers are dead. Please protect me, and my family will reward you!"

"Tsk! Nobles, thinking they can buy anything," a spiky-haired guy next to Arthur sneered. He introduced himself as Rico, along with his two comrades, Marcus and Dennis. They were mercenaries. I thought mercenaries took any job as long as the pay was good. Rico's dislike for Arthur was palpable.

Arthur trembled even more.

"Well, if there's a reward in it," the soldier who had supported me earlier said with a smile, "then just stick with me." He introduced himself as Caesar, the only survivor of the Thorn Platoon, like me. While everyone else wore leather armor, he was clad in full iron, like a knight. Despite losing his comrades, he seemed remarkably cheerful. Perhaps he was in denial, or maybe he hadn't formed deep bonds with them. In war, there was little time for mourning. He might be in the same, or worse, state than Arthur.

Depression was a subtle disease. Some masked their pain by acting normal, sometimes overly so, that no one suspected. But when they reached their limit…

Caesar moved closer to the fire.

"We might be leftovers from our old platoons, but they say you're special if you're in the Lion Platoon. Even if it's temporary, being here makes me feel safe."

If Caesar hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't have known the Lion Platoon's reputation.

Next up were two patrol soldiers from the capital, Livid and Beowulf. They seemed positive and outgoing.

The three from Griffin were triplets: Falon, Ghanu, and Hisu from Iba Village.

Triplets were often delivered by Caesarean section on Earth to reduce risks. These triplets suggested that their medical practices weren't entirely primitive. But with magic in this world, I couldn't be sure if it was purely surgical.

"Having twins is already a miracle, let alone triplets. We're considered a blessing from Luna in our village," Falon explained.

"They say the man who delivered us returned to the capital. After a year of searching, we were told no one knows where he lives. He only appears as a doctor during skirmishes, sometimes not even involving Heartwood," Ghanu added.

I expected Hisu to speak next, but he remained silent.

Falon continued, "Tomorrow's the fifth day, and we still haven't seen him."

I remembered the man in white robes treating the wounded last night. Since the triplets were from Griffin and had just arrived, I suggested they check the infirmary tent. Hisu excused himself to investigate.

The next to speak was a young man, about Lucas's age, who identified himself as a farmer from Telan.

"Unfortunately, I can't give you my name. If you prove yourselves after the war, I might."

"Such arrogance from a farmer!" Dennis scoffed.

What was it with these mercenaries? They kept disrupting the positive atmosphere.

"If you haven't heard of our village, then you're ignorant," the farmer retorted.

Arthur explained that Telan was regularly attacked by monsters. Its fertile land also attracted monsters, drawn to the diverse plants. The farmers were also warriors. In their village, warriors only shared their names with those whose strength they respected.

Finally, I introduced myself as Lucas. It was the safest option for now. I might be bombarded with questions. I didn't have all of Lucas's memories; just fragments, and retrieving them was like translating a language. Still, I managed to answer their questions. Maybe someday, I'd introduce myself as Alab.

The conversation continued, with everyone sharing their feelings about the war. Livid and Beowulf discussed their passion for strategy. Hisu returned, shaking his head; he hadn't found the doctor. Lancer, Horo's companion, came out of his tent, saying he was bored and joined us. The mercenaries, except for the cheerful Marcus, clashed with Caesar over his ideas about helping the weak, and with Lancer, who claimed to be the strongest. The triplets, the patrol soldiers, and I tried to defuse the tension. Overall, most of us were optimistic about the outcome of the war. This seemed to have a positive effect on the others.

During the conversation, the Lion Platoon representative arrived.

"To the temporary members of the Lion Platoon: The enemy is small in number. We'll be positioned on the right flank, targeting their left. You'll be divided into four squads of six. Your sergeants will be Lucas and Lancer. Respond to banner calls as needed. Sergeants, report for further orientation at 3 a.m. Lastly, there are no bannermen in the Lion Platoon. Lions don't ask for help; they provide it."

The representative's last line brought a smile to my lips. I could almost hear Marshal's prideful voice saying it. But those same words also made my heart pound. I was expected to kill. I had assumed I would remain on standby, not directly engaging the enemy because I was a bannerman. Now, I wasn't sure if I could bear to see a man's face after I stabbed or slashed him…

Why was I even made a sergeant? I have no experience!

The representative's arrival marked the end of our campfire gathering. Everyone returned to their tents. I still had one thing to do.

People expressed themselves in different ways. Some were comfortable in groups, others preferred one-on-one conversations.

It was late, but Hisu was outside their tent, playing with a stone and staring at the sky. I wanted to talk to him, so I pretended to be passing by.

"You were quiet earlier. What do you think about tomorrow?"

"Maybe we'll win and survive," he replied.

I was relieved he spoke. I had worried he was withdrawn. His few words were enough for me to return to my tent. I nodded and walked on.

I saw Arthur waiting near my tent.

Before I could speak, he said, "Lucas, I might die tomorrow. So, before that happens, I want to tell you a secret…"