Chapter 2: Scarborough Fair

The sky is a bit cloudy. In a plain that has forests and greenery, the weather is bearable. However, once you enter the desert area at the edge, it would be very painful to walk around it without a bag of water. Now, several horses were walking aimlessly, trying to return from the sea of ​​​​sand. Some of the ill-fated men were unable to return, and their bodies were buried in the yellow sand. Someone is incomplete, lost legs and hope. There is also a whole, but his life did not come back.

Standing on top of the city Fortress, several tired men exhaled. Each puff carried away dust and dirt. Their clothes are shabby, dirty and smelly. A few days without a shower is not a problem. This was a war situation, where what was important, even more than their own lives, was that they had to win.

"Yo, change."

Now it's time to change the guard shift. An equally disheveled man came to the top of the Citadel via a steep winding staircase. He patted his friend's shoulder when he arrived, breaking his thoughts.

"Oh, okay." Gerd got up, patted his ass, and was about to go down the dangling rope. It is used to speed up movement if something unexpected happens, such as the sudden appearance of an enemy.

Haga who became Gerd's replacement was getting ready to sit pensively on the edge of the Citadel, however, he saw a boy had taken his seat. He was a bit shocked, but he knew the boy.

"Huh, Dion? Why are you here?"

The young man, when asked by Haga, immediately turned his head with a pitiful face. "Uncle Haga... Huaaa!"

Dion is a young man without parents who two years ago, wandered around the border camp and stole some hot bread from them. At first, he would be beaten. As time went on, his combat power grew more and more, and he became good at running and dodging. Every day, he would steal a basket of warm, hard bread, a bowl of soup which he wrapped in a bottle of drink from a sheep's stomach, then some other military specialties such as biscuits as strong as steel which tasted traumatizing. When they followed him, it turned out that he was sharing the food he had looted with an aunt selling rice cakes on the outskirts of the village.

Touched, the soldiers, the majority of whom had families waiting for them at home, came to the child and his aunt, and they became exclusive customers there. Since the aunt selling rice cakes already had customers and a steady income from their arrival, Dion no longer needed to steal around the camp. The soldiers thought so too. Strangely, for some reason, the child still came to their camp. But now the goal is different. He wanted to be a soldier too, just like them.

Unfortunately, he is still too young. He was only 12 years old at the time, not strong enough to take a blow to the bone. Of course, he was immediately rejected. But the head of the border garrison, General Zigid, didn't stop him from coming. Even in his spare time, he likes to teach the bad boy some deadly moves. He liked the spirit of the young man. The situation in their country is like an oil lamp trying to live amid strong winds. Each of the tenacious soldiers can be compared to a hand that guards the flames against the strong winds. They big to collapse at any time, and passionate young people are needed here.

So, 2 years later, when Dion was 14 years old, he was accepted to join the army at the border. Although, his duties so far have been trivial things.

"...Don't tell me you were punished again?"

"Huaaa Uncle!" Dion rushed towards Haga, who wasn't quite ready, so they wobbled and almost fell from the top of the 7-meter-high fortress. Haga the valiant soldier who almost lost his life because of a trivial thing, immediately hit Dion's head and shouted at him. After he was satisfied, only then did he sit down to hear the boy's complaints.

"Didn't Uncle Zig— ah, I mean, Commander Zigid, win our first battle with the enemy army? I prepared a few small banquets to celebrate, but immediately, he got angry! Isn't that unfair?!"

"Stupid child, don't tell me you tasted the wine secretly?"

Against Haga, Dion was sweating profusely, as if a mouse had been caught stealing cheese in front of a cat. His little Adam's apple chugged up and down, his behavior very clear for a petty thief.

"Uncle..." Dion squeaked, afraid of being scolded once again for the same mistake he made every time a caravan filled with wine and beautiful women entered their camp.

"Young man, everyone is tired of reminding you that wine brought in from the outside may contain poison, and the people who should taste it first are the captives, not our soldiers! What if you died then? Wouldn't your Aunt Marty be sad, stupid boy?!"

"Sorry, Uncle..."

Haga lectured him for a while, before he realized something even more crucial.

"Wait a minute. How do you know that the main team won the battle with the enemy?"

"Eh? Isn't that obvious?"

"What's obvious? Every time we go home, we always bring defeat and casualties."

"Because yesterday, the Commander brought home another Commander from the enemy side. We saw it for ourselves. Ah, that's right. Yesterday Uncle wasn't in the base, huh."

"You idiot. If it's about that then I know it too." yesterday, Haga had his turn to wander outside the Citadel, walking from early morning until the next morning in the dark, in a group of 12, carrying several scouts. They were not allowed to light a fire, even though the weather at night was so cold it was freezing. It was only natural that he didn't know the latest news within the Citadel, but strangely, he did, even though he wasn't part of the core team. What surprised Haga was not about Dion knowing the exclusive news, but how this stupid boy could conclude that.

Never underestimate the information chain in the army. The slightest news will surely reach the ears of every soldier, down to the smallest tier. For that, Haga can find out quickly.

However, it was different for Dion, whose toughest task was just watching other people do their own tasks. So, the information chain will not reach him. It wasn't that they didn't believe it, but the current situation wasn't so dire that they had to sacrifice a young soldier.

"Isn't our Commander so great, Uncle? The enemy Commander is so fierce and powerful, we've lost so many times in the past. And now, under General Zigid's command, we're able to subdue him!"

Towards the fiery and feisty Dion, Haga didn't know how he should tell the truth. However, he decided to tell the story.

"It wasn't 'that' Commander that we captured."

"Eh?"

No wonder Dion could have misunderstood. He doesn't know anything. The truth is very bitter. Even so, living in a sweet lie is also not something to be happy about. Haga sighed.

"Other uncles probably won't tell you this, but, I will. Two years ago, when our Commander was sent from the Capital right to here, right then and there, the legendary Commander of the enemy side, was being pulled from the border to the Capital. The replacement is pretty lousy, so we can have a breath freely now. Things wouldn't be as calm as this if 'that guy' was still on the border over there. Trust me." Haga sighed, then continued, patting the silent boy's head. Dissolved in shock.

"The replacement for 'that guy' is a little General who doesn't know right or left. He was brought from the Solon area, which we have always lost to. And an even more competent General, was stationed in Solon in his place. So, the situation in our place is improving while those who usually win in Solon, ended up accepting one defeat after another."

"..."

"Our core team's victory yesterday, was no more due to luck. Our commander managed to kill the little general because their ration supply was constrained, so they had to fight against us on an empty stomach. The person you saw yesterday, brought by the Commander, is a reckless person who took command after the death of its commander, and with just under 2000 men, decided to counterattack."

"Eh..." as Haga expected, this reality was still too bitter for Dion's young soul to bear.

"Well, even so, to win is to win." While speaking thus, Haga ruffled the top of the young man's head. "So, what punishment did you receive from Commander Zigid this time, huh?"

"I was ordered to take the shift guarding the Citadel for the next week..."

"Bwahahahaha!"

"Uncleeeee!!"

-0-

In their country, Galahad, more than half of its land is desert and other arid places. While the other half is extreme snowy plains. Once, the entire Alexis-pass was theirs, but then, their defeat after defeat against the Elysians had eroded their own territory. Until finally, the Garrison on the Galahad border was enlarged, so that almost all of their fighting strength, was there.

The turning point finally came when one of the 12 Princes was stationed in the northeastern area of ​​the enemy. Their 5 great provinces, were conquered. So Galahad's defeat at Alexis-pass paid off. Though soon enough, their army was wiped out there. But at least thanks to the fall of the 5 great Elysian provinces, their enemy didn't have enough time to plunder their land anymore.

It all happened because of one person.

The most fearsome Commander of the Elysians, who inflicted too many defeats on their battle Armor.

Sahar August Einri Zehra.

The young general who took command of the most fearsome Livia Armored Cavalry in this Isla continent, at the age of 14.

Now that the General had been drawn back to the Elysian Capital, his successor was not as great as him, so every time a battle broke out, hole after a hole was smudged in the armor of the strongest army in all of the eastern lands, until in the end, they were defeated by starvation.

Galahad's victory over the Armored Cavalry this time too, was purely by luck.

Conditions on Elysian's side seemed to be quite bad. The new commander appointed by their Capital seemed to be out of line with the troops, so one by one the problems grew, so that eventually their confidence weakened. The climax, was when their ration supply came late, so they had to fight on an empty stomach for 3 days throughout the desert. Their new commander was killed in a single slash to the head, which then caused a great rift amidst Livia's half-defunct Armored Cavalry.

In that desperation, a small soldier tried to take command, deserted and marched with less than 2000 soldiers to leave their two outlying camps, and stepped forward in a suicidal move. He seemed to think that, rather than starve to death in the stables, it would be better for them to be stabbed to death in the midst of their final battle and struggle.

It was a desperate suicidal move. To appreciate their fighting spirit, the General of the Galahad border command decided to only take the new commander as a prisoner, and not kill him.

When their new commander was captured, the 2000 troops from the Livia Armored Cavalry then scattered aimlessly, like flies that had lost their heads.

Galahad could not sympathize any further with them. Thus, against many occasions this time, Commander Zigid split his core army to catch up with the rest of the scattered enemy troops, and the rest of his army he brought home.

However, the two enemy camps that were left empty, the Alpha and Beta camps, seemed more interesting than chasing after the scattered soldiers.

Thus, more than half of the core troops left behind by General Zigid, decided to change their destination.

The journey from the Galahad border to the Livia border in Elysian takes more than 6 whole days if done without rest, on horseback. So it takes about 12 days to get back and forth if it's done without any stops at all.

After fighting for over 2 months at the Livia border, the core force of the Galahad Border Garrison finally returned home. They brought home one head belonging to Livia's former commando as a trophy, and another of their 15-year-old minor substitute commander.

Therefore, the following night, a celebratory feast was held.

Some of the soldiers who weren't on their shifts staggered around after satisfying themselves with a few sips of wine, and the gentle brushing of the bodies of the beauties. They all feasted on joy, in a closed festive feast.

Only Dion, the only person not on shift, was feeling sad and suffering.

That's because, let alone touching a beautiful woman, he is not allowed to taste a drop of wine.

For some reason, the soldiers who like to break the norm every time they have a party, suddenly become obedient to the rules when they have to come to Dion.

In sadness, the young man could only watch the pleasure in silence. He scowled.

And among the many people who were dissolved in the euphoria, there was one more sad person beside Dion. It was Haga, who still had shifts until midnight. Dion called him and greeted him with a wave.

Haga in the distance seemed to find light in the darkness of life. He was immediately happy, and approached Dion who suddenly had a bad feeling. When he arrived, he patted the young man's shoulder, then handed a cup of watery porridge into his hand.

"Dion, good boy. Take this to the underground jail, okay?"

"Uncle, you know I can't go in there..."

"The door next to the ration warehouse, say you came on my behalf, huh? Here, I'll give you my waist tablet." As he said, Haga handed him a small badge as a marker of official identity, which the soldiers on duty always hung on his waist.

Dion pouted, but he wasn't too sad. That meant, at least he would have something to do. Don't let Haga know that he's happy, it could be bad if he'll delegate all his affairs to the unemployed Dion in the future.

"Hah... Alright, Uncle. I won't interfere. If the Commander finds out, he'll throw a tantrum." Dion, however, pretended that he really objected.

"Safe." On the other hand, Haga didn't feel worried at all because the Commander they were talking about had already dissolved in his alcohol.

Dion followed as Haga said. He looked for the barn door and peeked a little through the narrow gaps. Having a little guess at what it contained, he began to slide down the narrow hallway next to him, which was so dark with no torches at all. In the hallway, there was a steep staircase descending. Each step is given a count by Dion.

"38, 39, 40..." a total of 40 steps have been passed. Next was an ordinary street, the cement floor was rough and smelled strange, thick like the smell of rusty iron. Haga didn't tell him which cell he needed to go to, but he knew as soon as he arrived.

It is the only cell that contains a living human.

A soldier assigned to guard this prison delivered him. He was a bit surprised to see that it wasn't Haga who had arrived, but a runny boy who was annoyed by all the smells.

"Oh? Dion?"

"Uncle, I brought the waist tablet." Dion spoke while pinching his nose.

The guard uncle laughed. He patted the top of Dion's head. "Alright, alright. I know why he gave all this to you. I want to do the same tho, Hahahaha!"

"Uncle..." Dion sad.

The two of them walked slowly through the bulkhead passage from one cell to another. To kill the silence, Dion opened his voice first. "We… Did we finally win?"

The guard uncle, Freire, glanced briefly at the boy. "Do you think we won?"

When asked that, Dion couldn't help but be a little nervous. He believed that victory was measured by the failure of the enemy. But, is it true? From the way Uncle Freire asked, it didn't seem that simple. So Dion shook his head.

"That's true. We've won. But, Dion, our victory can't bring back anything that's been lost. Our fellow soldiers who died in the wilderness, those whose villages were burned, or even our looted lands, can't all return. "

"Then… From our victory this time, what can we gain, Uncle?"

"Pride. "

"Eh?"

Freire chuckled. Sounds like a mockery to himself. "Listen to me, Dion." As he spoke, he put his arm around the boy's shoulder.

"Leaders, civilians, and even our own families, use us to sacrifice themselves in the midst of battle for their own safety. So we, as soldiers, also take advantage of them for trivial things like pride. Victory this time yielded no results other than self-respect. The poor who lost their homes and lands cannot eat from that pride, and neither can we. Therefore, we are fighting for our own selfishness."

"I... I don't really get it..."

While continuing to walk, without noticing, they had arrived in front of the detention cell they were aiming for. Freire unlocked the double lock with a master key, then entered ahead of Dion. He kicked the body curled up inside to get up immediately. It revealed a young, cloudy face covered in dust and dried blood.

"Dion, what I mean is, This one-man head can't bring back the tens of thousands of our dead soldiers, nor can it return half of our land that was looted by the enemy. But, even so, we're still breaking through to the battlefield and trying to seize this filthy head. You know why? Because of the pride I was talking about earlier." Freire spoke with his feet kicking the figure several times. When he saw Dion was scared and a bit unfocused, then he stopped.

"You're still so timid at your age. That's why the Commander still doesn't want to include you in the initial team. We, at your age, have eaten the salt of battle. We've slashed dozens of heads." Freire laughed.

Dion had calmed down somewhat when Freire stopped. And a bit embarrassed. He stepped forward with his watery porridge, crouched down to match the huddled height of the prisoner, and spoke softly.

"Move forwards about 27 steps, climb 40 stairs. The ration cellar is next to the prison doorway. All kerosene." Dion spoke in a steady voice. It was not strong enough to be heard outside the prison area, but not low enough to be heard by Freire, who was instantly petrified.

"Dion, what the..."

What surprised him the most was not what Dion was talking about, but what he had seen with his own eyes.

The person he had kicked and had stepped on the head earlier, was Marty, the aunt of the rice cake seller who had been Dion's foster mother, and also the person who always gave them several baskets of warm rice cakes to eat while on patrol.