Chapter 81 - The Moon Walking in the Wake of the Sun (6)

Chapter 81 - The Moon Walking in the Wake of the Sun (6)

Woken up by a dawn attack and still without breakfast, the cadets were a mess.

But unlike the instructors, the Rangers didn't bother waiting for these greenhorns to catch up.

"Keep moving, pick up the pace. At this rate, the sun will set before we get there."

One of the Rangers snapped impatiently from the rear as he watched cadets gasp and fall behind.

The sun hadn't even risen yet, but he was already complaining that it'd be dark soon.

Several cadets were deeply unhappy—not so much about the grueling march at dawn, but at being treated so dismissively by someone whose rank was unclear, a Ranger who might be a common soldier or possibly an officer.

Still, they didn't dare voice their complaints.

None of the Rangers wore any insignia to indicate rank or unit—in fact, there was nothing on their uniforms to identify them at all.

The one barking orders at them could easily be a commoner soldier—or, in an extreme case, even the Ranger Battalion Commander himself.

This ambiguity about rank and affiliation wasn't accidental.

It was a deliberate measure for when Rangers faced enemy attacks, especially snipers, assassins, or if taken prisoner.

As a result, other soldiers tended to be more careful and respectful around Rangers—and some Rangers took full advantage of that, developing incredibly arrogant attitudes.

Of course, unless a Ranger seriously overstepped, other soldiers treated them with respect. Rangers risked their lives in the most dangerous places even during peacetime, and in war, they were the first to step onto the battlefield, serving as the army's eyes and ears.

"Hah! Hah! Hah!"

More and more exhausted cadets lagged behind, stretching the column farther and farther.

Even then, the Rangers didn't slow down at all.

In the end, the cadets with good stamina ended up passing those who were falling behind and walked right behind the Ranger at the front.

"Hang in there. You can see the forest up ahead."

"We're almost there."

Even in this situation, Ernest and Ferdinand stayed at the very rear, encouraging the other cadets.

It was partly because, as the Twin Pillars of the Second Years, they felt responsible for the situation, but it was also something they could only manage because they still had the energy to do so.

They encouraged the stragglers, pushed them forward, helped them up, and even pulled them along.

But no matter how fit they were, doing all that from dawn left both of them drenched in sweat and exhausted.

Even Ferdinand was so worn out that he was staggering.

"Wilfried, pull yourself together. I don't have the strength left to carry you."

"Haah! Huff! Damn it…!"

Wilfried kept falling behind, so Ernest and Ferdinand had to help him more than ten times just during the early morning march.

As a Young Master of a Duke's House, he'd hardly ever had to move his body, so his stamina was poor to begin with.

On top of that, he was smaller than his peers because he hadn't grown as much, making it even harder for him to keep up.

This was truly a march with no regard for the cadets' abilities, so it couldn't even really be called training.

Only a handful of cadets at the front were making it into the distant forest following the Ranger, while the rest were left far behind, dragging themselves along.

Still, if there was one small comfort, it was that the instructor hadn't given up on the cadets.

"Hand over your military pack. Get your head on straight and keep walking. Hurry up."

As the gap between the front and the back grew too large, the instructors following behind the cadets stepped up and carried the cadets' military packs for them.

Ernest and Ferdinand, exhausted from helping their peers, also handed over their packs to an instructor.

Now weighed down with the packs, the instructors looked burdened.

Thomas, for example, had two packs slung over his shoulders and another three draped over each arm, carrying a total of eight packs at once.

"Wilfried, it'd be easier to just carry you on my back than keep pushing you."

"Damn it! I'm doing my best too!"

Breathing heavily, Ferdinand's comment was met with an irritated outburst from Wilfried.

In front of the burly Ferdinand—who was bigger than the average man in his twenties—the slightly smaller Wilfried really just looked like a little kid.

Annoying as it was for Wilfried, though, Ferdinand's words fired him up.

Fueled by anger, he was able to squeeze out a little more strength and keep moving.

One way or another, no one gave up.

Though it took a very long time, everyone made it to the forest without anyone falling behind.

"Well, you really outdid yourselves."

A Ranger sitting at the entrance of the forest let out a deep sigh when he saw the sorry sight.

From the look of it, not only did he dislike this exercise, he seemed deeply dissatisfied with the whole situation.

Once the stragglers at the rear entered the forest, they saw that the cadets who'd arrived first were dripping with sweat as they set up tents in a clearing.

As soon as the later arrivals showed up, those who'd already finished their tents came over to help them and also took military packs from the instructors, starting to set up tents for their peers as well.

"You guys, keep an eye on the perimeter. There, there, and over there."

With some cadets so exhausted they couldn't even stand and others busy setting up tents, Ernest picked out a few people and assigned them positions to stand guard.

Despite their faces drained of all color, everyone struggled to their assigned spots, hiding where Ernest had shown them and keeping watch over the campsite's perimeter.

"The tents need to be spaced appropriately. If they're too far apart, it's hard to respond to a surprise attack; if they're too close, they get in the way. We also need to dig drainage ditches and set up toilets, so leave this area clear."

Ferdinand also began directing the construction of the campsite, adjusting the haphazardly placed tents and organizing the layout.

...

Normally, Wilfried would have joined them in leading, assigning peers to the right spots and coordinating opinions.

But he was sprawled out on the ground, having forgotten his pride, unable to move an inch.

He felt like a fish dragged out of the water, drying out and dying.

It wasn't just Wilfried—quite a few cadets lay spread out just like him.

Some were even sniffling out of frustration and embarrassment.

"You all fulfilled your roles perfectly."

A Ranger approached the exhausted cadets and spoke in an indifferent voice.

It was the same Ranger who'd talked with Ernest at dawn.

"You dragged your teammates down and slowed the march."

"You even made them set up your tents for you."

"Considering the time lost because of you, and how much energy those guys had to spend, if this had been a real situation, not only would you have died, but so would those idiots trying to help you."

"If I'd been your enemy, I would have done everything to let you live. As long as you're around, your comrades are guaranteed to die pointless deaths."

...

"In all my years, aside from the idiot bastard who ordered a charge in a rain-soaked forest completely overrun by the enemy and got five hundred men killed overnight, I've never seen a soldier lead his own allies to their deaths as effectively as you did. Congratulations."

"You lot are now second on my list of idiots I'd never want to see as allies."

Clap, clap, clap.

The Ranger sarcastically applauded the sprawled cadets, his words biting.

One cadet, choked with emotion, propped himself up on trembling arms and tried to stand.

"If… if only we were a bit taller…!"

"Is that what you'll say to the enemy coming to kill you? 'Just wait five more years and I'll come slice your throat like a pro'—would you beg for mercy like that?"

"You…!"

"Stop it… just stop…"

Wilfried weakly held back his peer who was about to retort to the Ranger.

Then, lying on his back with his eyes closed, he took several deep, steady breaths to compose himself before slowly getting up.

If you stand up too quickly when you're this exhausted, you'll almost always get dizzy and collapse again.

"Shut up and focus on recovering your strength. Otherwise, we won't even be able to participate in the next exercise."

"Easy for you to say while your comrades are struggling like that."

The Ranger sneered at Wilfried, who managed to sit up and mutter, barely audible.

Wilfried didn't even look his way.

Though his sweat-soaked body was now filthy with dirt from lying on the ground, he didn't bother to brush himself off with his usual elegant gestures—instead, he simply spent the time quietly with his eyes closed.

As the Duke's son, Wilfried was skilled at reading people's intentions.

That's how he noticed the Rangers were even more dissatisfied than they were and genuinely hoped the cadets would just give up.

There was nothing to gain by letting himself get swept up by this Ranger, who was exceptionally good at running his mouth.

Ignoring him was the best option.

When Wilfried responded with silence, the Ranger just gave a snide smile and walked away without a word, his footsteps barely making a sound.

Wilfried focused on recovering his strength, his face pale.

But inside, he was churning with self-loathing—no one understood his own weakness better, and no one was more furious about it than Wilfried himself.

'I'll grow soon… I will. Just wait and see…'

He swallowed his frustration as he thought of the relatives he despised.

Ravid was so obsessed with maintaining the bloodline that there were hardly any short people in the house.

Once Wilfried finally started growing, he would shoot up almost overnight, as if someone had stretched him out.

…Hopefully.

Fortunately, with the energy of youth, the cadets quickly regained their strength and began helping their struggling peers, so the campsite was finished in no time.

Even so, Wilfried was the only one whose stamina wasn't fully recovered—he simply kept watch.

He constantly had to reassure himself that, while he might not be as tall as Ferdinand, he'd at least outgrow Ernest.

"It took you twice as long as scheduled. While you lot have been crawling around weakly here, the enemy could've finished scouting the area, formed an encirclement, and gotten ready to attack. I'm not joking. This forest connects to Belliang's Forest, so it would be no surprise if you were attacked at any time."

After the campsite was built, that same Ranger spoke up with a smile.

Just as he said, this forest was connected to Belliang's Forest, which now formed the border. To be precise, this area had originally been part of the same forest and was once entirely within Belliang's territory. It was only through the blood and bodies of Imperial Rangers that a part of the forest was seized.

Thanks to that, the 2nd Corps could now exert influence in Belliang's Forest and had a base from which to gather intelligence. If they were to lose control of this forest, they could instantly lose nearly all power over the border region with Belliang.

In other words, Belliang's Rangers could also cross into this forest to carry out reconnaissance, sabotage, assassinations, and other missions. One slip-up, and every cadet here could be wiped out in a heartbeat. Belliang's Rangers, trained for the survival of their nation, were every bit as skilled as the Empire's Rangers.

"Still, at least for now, you don't have to worry about getting your throats slit while you sleep. My guys are busting their asses to keep you VIPs from the Imperial Military Academy safe."

So for now, the Rangers had seized complete control of the forest, maintaining the highest level of alert to protect the cadets. No wonder the Rangers resented the Imperial Military Academy. Thanks to its training exercises, they were forced to conduct military operations with nerves on edge right up against the enemy's border—nothing to be happy about.

If Belliang took this as a military provocation or as a prelude to an invasion and decided to retaliate, a war could break out in an instant. Of course, that was very unlikely. Belliang couldn't stand alone against the Empire, and the Alliance Army would never approve such a reckless, abrupt act of war.

'He must be at least a Company Commander…'

While the other cadets felt a chill from the Ranger's words, Ernest was actually deducing the man's rank and position.

Ranger officers held a rank one level above regular infantry officers. They were valued more highly because they were difficult to train, prized experience above all else, and operated in constant danger. Therefore, the rank of a Ranger platoon leader ranges from lieutenant to captain, and a company is commanded by a major. Considering that field officers usually don't appear on the front lines, such assignments are rather unconventional.

The Ranger in front of them just referred to the Rangers controlling the forest as "my guys." There's no way a single platoon could seize control of an entire forest. At the very least, it would take a company-sized unit—realistically, two or three companies to be sure.

In other words, this Ranger with the sharp tongue and gift for banter could actually be a battalion commander or even a colonel. Ernest wasn't the only one to realize this; a few cadets who had been glaring with annoyance quickly lowered their eyes, now looking as meek and polite as possible.

"Your fine instructor made a request of me," the Ranger said.

At his words, the cadets glanced sidelong at Captain Thomas Kohler, their ever-dignified instructor. The fact that he could refer to someone like Thomas, a captain, in that manner confirmed the Ranger was at least a major, in command of a company.

"He asked me to show you firsthand exactly what the Belliang bastards like to do."

"..."

At the words of the Ranger—whose rank was still uncertain but who could easily be a company or battalion commander—everyone's faces turned pale.

Ernest was no exception.

"I don't know what the hell they've actually managed to teach you in that sorry excuse for a Military Academy, and I don't care. Watching you lot swagger about like real soldiers, even though you can't manage so much as a baby's first steps, makes me worry for the Empire's future. Honestly, your faces alone make it look bleak enough to bring tears to my eyes. While we're fighting and dying like flies in this damned forest, the Empire's soldiers have turned into children who haven't even learned to walk."

The Ranger's words came out sharper than necessary, and he let loose a few heavy sighs, as if genuinely lamenting their situation. However, Ernest recognized that these words weren't just meant to provoke the cadets.

Despite the Ranger's sneering mouth, there was a very real sense of frustration and anger flickering in his dark brown eyes.

"A real soldier isn't made by sitting at a desk, reciting poetry, or crunching numbers. I'm going to show you just how useless everything you've learned is—and how real soldiers are truly made, starting now."

The Ranger jerked his chin.

At his signal, a few other Rangers brought over sacks and tightly rolled pieces of leather, laying them out in front of the cadets.

"This is the first and last bit of mercy I'll show you. From this moment on, no idiot is going to go through hardships on your behalf. You'll find your own food and fend for yourselves."

Inside the sack was a dagger.

Although they called it a dagger, its length and weight were close to that of a one-handed sword.

On the unrolled leather lay a small bow, its string loosened, along with a few arrows. Ernest could tell at a glance that these were high-quality items.

Unfortunately, aside from Ernest, hardly any of the young noble cadets could handle such primitive weapons as a bow. They might as well not have been given anything.

"For the next three days, we're going to strip you clean, just like those Belliang bastards your wonderful instructor asked me to imitate. But don't worry—we won't actually kill you. And once we start something, we never do a half-hearted job. Even if you're beaten half to death and bawling like children, begging us to stop, we'll make sure that not a single one of you leaves this forest for three whole days. You can count on that."

As the Ranger flashed a broad grin, the other Rangers who had been at the campsite quietly melted away one by one, until only the anxious voices of the cadets echoed through the forest.

"Don't let your guard down even when you're taking a crap. That's the perfect moment to get yourselves killed."

With those parting words, the last Ranger strode off and disappeared into the forest.

"Let's go too."

Right after Captain Thomas Kohler, the Senior Instructor, said this, the instructors also left the campsite. A few of them kept glancing back, worried about the young cadets they were leaving behind.

And so, the only ones left at the campsite were the fifteen-year-old rookie cadets.

"Grab your weapons first. Can anyone use a bow?"

Even Ferdinand, usually so composed, looked at a loss, but amid the confusion, Ernest quickly gathered up the weapons, his deep, dark eyes darting restlessly. He was already trying to figure out where and how the Rangers had disappeared, how they moved, and where those watchful, hidden eyes might be focused.

Spurred on by Ernest's words, the other cadets snapped back to their senses and awkwardly armed themselves with the unfamiliar swords and bows.

Unfortunately, just as Ernest had expected, only four of them—including Ernest—had ever handled a bow, even as a hobby.

"This spot is far too exposed. It wouldn't be strange to be attacked at any time, from any direction. We need to pack up the tents and move."

"To where?"

"Anywhere is better than here."

"But what if there's nowhere to pitch the tents and sleep?"

"We won't be setting up tents."

"What? Then where will we sleep?"

"It's spring, so it's warm, and the rain has stopped. We can lay down the tent fabric and wrap ourselves in blankets to sleep. If we find a good spot, we can even hang the fabric to block the enemy's view and protect ourselves from attacks."

"That sounds way too dangerous."

Despite the disconcerting situation, Ernest gave instructions with a remarkable calm. But opposition quickly emerged—from none other than Ferdinand.

"We're not as familiar with the forest as you are. If we rush around like that, we'll just get confused and become even more vulnerable to enemy attacks."

Ferdinand spoke in a composed voice.

"This location itself is a trap. Don't forget what happened to us at dawn."

Ernest stood his ground firmly.

After what happened this morning, he wouldn't allow them to make the same mistake again.

"It's reckless to fight Rangers inside the forest."

"Being outside the forest doesn't make them any less of Rangers."

"At least here, they have to cross open ground to reach us, so it's safer."

"No matter how well we keep watch, they'll find our blind spots and sneak in. It won't matter."

"Ernest."

As Ernest and Ferdinand spoke, everyone watched them in tense silence.

Then, a weary voice cut between the two.

Wilfried, his face smeared with dust and his hands just as dirty, brushed his cheek and sighed as he spoke.

"If we couldn't do anything against you, what makes you think we have any chance against the Rangers you're so afraid of, especially in the forest?"

"...."

"Not everyone can act the way you do. He's right. We're just a bunch of useless idiots and dead weight kids."

Wilfried uttered those humiliating words with striking composure.

"So, Ernest. Either abandon us and survive on your own, or slow down and set the pace so that even this dead weight can keep up."

After saying that, Wilfried let out another long, weary sigh.

"That's what a commander is supposed to do, isn't it?"

"...."

Wilfried's heartfelt—almost sharp—complaint left Ernest speechless.

A moment later, Ernest realized that everyone was looking at him. No one had actually chosen a leader, but it was clear they all expected Ernest to take command, as if it were obvious.

Even Ferdinand was the same.

That's why, when he spoke to Ernest, he hadn't tried to seize command himself but instead offered his advice, trying to persuade Ernest.

At this point, who among the Second Year cadets could lead, if not Ernest Krieger?

"…First, we'll assign sentries. We can't use bows, but as long as someone can alert us of the enemy's approach, that's enough. Next, apart from those who'll help me gather drinking water, everyone else should set up traps wherever they can around camp. It's not like the Rangers will fall for it, but we need to put up at least some resistance. After that, we'll do some basic archery training."

Ernest's eyes darted as he spoke, thoughts racing chaotically through his mind, only to be quickly organized as he laid out the plan.

The most important thing was to guard against the enemy, so sentries were a priority. And to buy even a second of extra time to respond, they needed to lay traps around the perimeter. Admittedly, they'd probably be useless, but he refused to simply stand by and take a beating.

Next, to survive for three days, they absolutely had to solve the drinking water problem.

Ernest knew he'd have to take care of this himself, since the other cadets probably wouldn't be able to find water in this forest.

In the process, he hoped to at least establish the means to get some food by trapping—animals tended to gather near water, so if they were lucky, they might catch something.

Finally, they would need to train the cadets to handle the only weapons they had—the sword and the bow—neither of which most of them could use properly.

You could kind of make do with swinging a sword any which way, but that wouldn't do much against the Rangers.

They had to learn archery.

"The bow… Isn't that dangerous?"

Robert asked cautiously, uncertain if it was really okay to shoot arrows at the Rangers.

"Even if all sixty of us fired arrows at once, it wouldn't be much of a threat. That's exactly why they gave us bows and arrows in the first place—they know it's no danger."

Ernest spoke calmly, as if resigned to the fact that all of their upcoming efforts would be in vain.

Just as Thomas had intended, and just as the Ranger—whether he was a company or battalion commander—had said, they now understood all too well the reality of their situation.

Even though the sun had risen and bright sunlight was pouring over the campsite, they felt as though they were wandering in utter darkness.

Their throats were parched, aching for even a single drop of water to quench their thirst, and their stomachs growled from having skipped breakfast, but there was no food to be found.

It was complete helplessness.

No matter how much they struggled, it would all be pointless—everything was destined to fall apart.

Looking around at his fellow cadets, whose faces had gone pale with shock, Ernest spoke with unwavering resolve.

"Move. We don't have time to waste."

He said it, but Ernest knew better than anyone that there wasn't even the smallest sliver of hope.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to simply give up and do nothing—he had learned too much from his admired father, and as a good, honest son, he wanted to become like him.