Chapter 3 - Black and White

Chapter 3 - Black and White

I had a different feeling toward the Special Forces compared to the refugees.

Especially the black-haired, bobbed woman among them.

"Marcello, stop spacing out," said the Special Forces leader to her.

What I felt for the Special Forces and Marcello was admiration.

She also had many nicknames.

One-man legion, the strongest human, the walking cannon, and more.

Any nickname that represented power was attached to her.

Because of that, I also gained a nickname.

After facing the tip of a spear with my own eyes in the training camp,

I broke into a cold sweat, and one of my training mates said,

'If you look at the movements, you're the genius of the Special Forces, just like Marcello Arnis, but with a huge weakness. This is totally Unlucky Marcello.'

I was the one who attached misfortune to the name of a hero.

That nickname followed me not only in the training camp but all the way until my death.

By chance, Marcello and I passed each other.

"It's been a while."

The only thing I could do, unable to stand by her side, was to mutter a word of admiration.

We continued advancing toward the capital.

"How did you learn to ride?"

Kinjo spoke first.

"How did I learn? You just grab and climb on."

"I mean, how to ride. Horseback riding."

"Like I said, you just do it."

"Just? Most people don't do that. In fact, no one does. You'll probably fall off soon."

"Are you saying I'm bad at it?"

"Quite the opposite."

Kinjo sighed deeply.

If it were before, Kinjo should have had a severe injury at his eye, but now he was fine behind me.

I found the key to prevent the loss in his eyes, a magic that allowed him to see through.

I gave up on everyone else, except for one.

Suddenly, a silver grave came to mind.

I tightly suppressed the dog tags that filled the walls.

"They're probably still alive."

Alive.

The precious people I would meet.

The people I considered family were all alive.

It was so joyous that it almost made my chest tight.

We sold the brown horse we rode to cover living expenses.

Kinjo tossed and caught a bag of money with one hand.

"If Father finds out we sold Light for cheap, he'll jump right out of the coffin."

The brown horse's name was Light.

"Good job. If we had a mount, we'd want to run away."

"Run away? Don't underestimate my resolve."

The man who bought Light grabbed the reins and left.

"Sir, do you know how to ride?"

Kinjo asked.

"Who do you think I am? Buying a horse I can't even ride?"

He proudly grasped the saddle and tried to jump up.

But he immediately slipped and slammed his head into the ground.

A pitiful groan escaped.

Kinjo pointed at him and said,

"See, Mago? That's normal. Just climbing on doesn't make sense. You really never learned?"

"I told you I didn't."

"Then is it talent? Something else?"

He placed his left hand on his chin.

"Scary."

Thanks to selling Light, we were able to rent a tavern room with two beds.

The corner of the window was broken, and the wind blew through.

The bed sank as soon as I sat on it, accompanied by a creaking sound.

There was a small desk between the two beds.

Paper, ink, and a quill pen were neatly arranged.

"Even in this state, they call it an inn. Just mind the furniture."

"Shall we write it now?"

I asked as I sat at the desk.

"Yeah, here."

Kinjo handed me two sheets of paper over his shoulder.

He had brought the enlistment application from the town hall.

I dipped the quill in ink.

I started writing my own first.

Name: Mago. No family name.

Place of origin: Unknown.

Gender: Male.

Height: 175 cm, Weight: 63 kg.

No other details.

"There are a lot of blanks. Anyone would think you're a spy."

Kinjo said playfully.

Next was Kinjo's turn.

Since I was already sitting, I wrote his down too.

I wrote it as he said.

"Kinjo Shua, from the capital.

He's male.

Height: 190 cm."

"190? That's not right."

"Busted… 187."

I wrote 187 cm instead.

"What's your weight?"

"90kg."

"Nothing else to add?"

"There's something. Write this down under additional details."

Kinjo tapped the empty space with his finger.

"Aquella."

Aquella.

It was the name of the northern country Kinjo had visited.

Now, it was a land of wizards, ravaged by monsters.

"Graduated from Watermelon Magic University."

He crossed his arms, proud of himself.

For some reason, it looked kind of ridiculous.

"Should I add that I paid to get in?"

"Are you joking?"

"A little."

"Graduating is what matters. Graduation."

"Then you know how to use magic?"

He asked while moving his quill.

I certainly knew about his magic, but right now, I had no choice but to pretend I didn't.

"W-well, of course, I know. I couldn't not know."

It was obvious he was trying to brush it off.

"Oh, you said you had fun there."

"I didn't just have fun!"

"Then what can you use?"

"Fire."

"Fire? Isn't that pretty impressive?"

"Fire… flower."

He couldn't lie.

From fire to flame, the scale shrank.

"I see."

"No, ember…?"

It could shrink even further.

From flower to the seed.

"Mago, remember the fire arrows that the goblins shot? The fire stayed on the tip of the arrow, right? It's probably the same kind of magic I use. The magic that enhances weapons by surrounding them with fire."

"Then it was the goblin shaman who used it. Not a wizard, but a shaman. A goblin shaman, too."

"Do you really have to say that?"

"It's the truth."

"There's more."

Kinjo brought his thumbs and index fingers together.

He made a round shape with his hands and held it up in front of his face.

"I can use detection magic, too. Write that down quickly."

A special kind of magic that could be called Kinjo's trademark.

"Is that also at the goblin shaman level?"

"Much better."

"Still, you probably used it for something weird."

Kinjo gave a serious expression upon hearing that.

"Mago. You think I've never done that?"

"You're saying it with such a straight face."

"Yeah, I wanted to look at people. The physique, I mean."

He shuddered.

"But what I saw wasn't the physique; it was the entrails."

His expression darkened further.

"Don't ever bring it up again. I don't ever want to think about the chief's wrinkles again."

He said that seriously.

"In the end, you're a wizard with no offensive abilities. That's what it is."

"I don't want to admit it, but I can't deny it."

He shrugged.

"Mago, can we submit it tomorrow?"

"We won't be late if we go back to the city hall now."

"I want to rest. It's fine to go tomorrow."

"Well… let's do that. Anyway, even if we submit it early, we'll just be waiting for the training camp entrance date."

Kinjo immediately collapsed onto the bed.

"Yeah. Let's rest, rest."

And then he fell asleep.

It was that quick.

While he slept, I fell into thought.

Enlisting again this life was inevitable.

The goal was the same.

To kill all the monsters, reclaim the empire's land, and head to Aquella.

This time, I would definitely go.

I neatly arranged the papers on the desk.

I began to make a plan.

Since it would be the new year in a few days, I started from 607.

[607]

I wrote the beginning.

Then, after moving my hand far right.

[614 December 24]

I wrote the end.

I connected the year 607 and 614 with a line.

A brief timeline.

I started drawing vertical lines on the horizontal timeline.

I wrote beneath the first vertical line.

[610]

About three years later, I got an unbelievably good weapon.

The word symbolizing a weapon: a sword.

I drew one on the line.

Then, I drew the second vertical line.

[612]

And I broke that weapon in just two years.

I drew a sword again, then crossed it with an X.

After losing the weapon, there was nothing but despair.

It's a miracle I lasted until 614.

[614]

Finally, the third vertical line.

I returned to the end.

By mid-December, even with my eyes closed, I found a way to keep fighting.

Even with my eyes closed, I could vaguely see ahead.

But I still didn't know what that ability truly was, nor how to develop it.

***

"Ah, I must have dozed off. I need to wash up and sleep."

Kinjo opened his eyes.

He slowly got up and looked down at the paper.

"What were you doing?"

Kinjo reached out to grab the paper.

At that moment, it happened—thud.

"Oh."

"Ah."

The ink bottle tipped over.

The ink spilled all over the timeline.

It blackened my future.

"Sorry."

"It's fine, it wasn't that important anyway."

What was important, though, was that even if things went well for me, from 607 to 614, thousands of people would die by my side.

It's inevitable that soldiers die in war.

But what mattered was that so many people had been by my side.

I remembered them all.

Just like when I looked over their enlistment papers.

Their names, faces, places of origin, family relationships, and even what they wanted to do after the war—or what they wished to do tomorrow.

I remember it all.

Until the day I die, I will carry those memories.

Sending them off, even with a poor funeral, was the way I would atone for surviving alone.

I thought of the silver grave.

This time, I wanted to protect them.

But even though it was my second time, the battlefield was still no easy place.

Instead, if I could protect my training camp mates or geniuses like Marcello, they would save many others.

Life keeps passing on.

There are crucial talents needed to end the war.

And also the place where they are most likely to die.

"Special Forces."

The conclusion was clear, I had to go there.

"Why the Special Forces?"

"I need to excel in the Special Forces. That's how I can get promoted faster. For now, I'll need to go to the Special Forces. The top 10 trainees from the training camp can join, so I need to do well there."

"Promotion? You're already thinking about that?"

It wasn't 'already,' it was now.

I had often thought the orders from my superiors were ridiculous.

But I had no power to defy them, nor did I have any rank.

Even knowing the outcome, I had led my men into hell.

And now, knowing the future, incompetent officers seemed even more useless than fish heads.

"I have to think about it. I can't just die as cannon fodder."

I had to rise to a much higher rank.

If necessary, I would aim for Special Forces commander or even army commander.

If I couldn't lead the Empire's army, knowing information would be meaningless.

"Why is it always about dying? How ominous."

Kinjo patted my shoulder and went to the bathroom.

After washing his face, he immediately returned to bed.

He fell asleep again the moment he lay down.

While he slept easily, I struggled to fall asleep, lost in thought.

"When was it that you cried your eyes out?"

I muttered, watching Kinjo peacefully sleep.

Maybe it was because he was a noble, but he could settle down so quickly.

"I'm sorry."

At that moment, Kinjo murmured softly.

"I'm sorry, Mother…"

It was just a simple sleep talk.

"I wanted to be a proud son. I should have shown you that…"

He mumbled for a while.

Kinjo's younger sister, Erina Shuah, had heard that after a year of hard work, she could finally ride a brown horse, Light.

The world, as always, was cruel.

No, from now on, it would be more cruel than ever.