Chapter 82 - The Moon Walking in the Wake of the Sun (8)

Chapter 82 - The Moon Walking in the Wake of the Sun (8)

The situation was downright catastrophic—"worst-case scenario" didn't even begin to describe it.

Yet, to avoid plunging into true disaster, they had to act, no matter how trivial their efforts might seem.

The cadets began moving at Ernest's command.

In the process, Ernest didn't bother assigning specific leaders to each task.

There was simply no need.

Ferdinand was already organizing the sentries and setting up the initial perimeter, and he'd also take charge of setting traps.

Meanwhile, Wilfried oversaw inventory management and archery training.

After spending over a year together as officer cadets, they instinctively divided up the roles and executed their tasks smoothly.

Since Ernest himself had to leave the campsite to secure drinking water, he didn't have the time—or need—to sweat the small stuff.

"Don't take too many waterskins."

"We're going to need a lot of water."

Ernest only allowed the seven cadets accompanying him on the water search to carry three waterskins each.

Even without any strenuous activity, a single cadet could easily empty one waterskin a day.

But in this tense situation—standing guard, setting traps, training—it was obvious they'd run through twice that amount per person, at the very least.

In short, they'd need to supply at least 120 waterskins daily!

"I know. But there's no way we can carry that all at once. We have to focus on finding a water source first. If the water's too far away, I'm moving the campsite, no matter what you all say."

Ernest decided that finding water came first.

Hauling 120 waterskins back and forth through the forest, one by one, without a wagon or cart, was unwise even if the distance was short—and if it was far, attempting it would be utter madness.

Frankly, even going three days without a single sip, resorting to drinking their own urine, would be better than that.

For any military unit, securing water was a fate they couldn't escape.

Marches were always planned with rivers or lakes nearby for supply, and camps were always set up close to water.

In truth, the history of war was also the history of water.

Without water, even the toughest soldier would struggle to march half a day.

Ernest led the seven cadets assigned to the Ranger Unit during the Mock Battle Training deeper into the forest.

There's a trail.

It didn't take long for Ernest to spot a path among the thick trees and undergrowth—clear signs left behind by Rangers.

The fact that Ernest noticed it meant they were still in a genuinely safe zone.

If it was considered safe enough for Imperial Military Academy cadets to camp here, the Rangers must not have bothered hiding their tracks.

The vegetation is unfamiliar.

Ernest pressed forward carefully, all the while gathering information.

Having never left the area around Grimman, Ernest didn't know much about the plant life in these woods, which used to be part of Belliang.

There were trees and grasses he recognized, but not enough to be certain about anything.

I wonder if we could get water from the trees.

Ernest was considering the option of drawing water from the trees.

If you bore a deep hole into a tree, you can sometimes get water. But Ernest couldn't be sure whether trees he didn't recognize were safe, nor could he be certain that he'd actually find water that way. Still, it should be possible to dig in places where the undergrowth was thick or where moss was growing to find some water in the ground.

"The more I think about it, the more frustrating it gets."

Ernest felt a growing sense of frustration.

There were countless ways to scrounge up enough water to survive three days, one way or another.

But with the possibility of interference from the Rangers, any plan he came up with felt pointless.

"Are we headed in the right direction?"

"We just have to try and see."

"What about the direction of the campsite…?"

"I remember. As long as I can see the sun, I can figure out the way back."

The other cadets were even more anxious and tense than Ernest. With knowledge and wisdom, you can see through to the heart of a situation, and fear loses much of its power once the unknown becomes known. It was only natural that cadets with less knowledge and experience than Ernest were more fearful. Still, feeling fear was far better than acting recklessly out of ignorance.

As he walked along the path, Ernest realized he was gradually making his way down to lower ground. That was a very hopeful sign. After all, water always flows from higher to lower elevations. It's much better to look for water in the lowlands than try to find it up high.

On top of that, Ernest spotted another sign that water was close by.

"Bees. That means there's water nearby."

Winter had passed, and in the Empire's Northwestern Region even the spring rains had stopped. Now was the time when bees became active.

"What do bees have to do with water?"

"Other insects can't survive without water either, but bees, in particular, drink a lot of it."

Bees, which build hives and live in groups, consume a lot of water. There had to be some source nearby—a pool, a stream, whatever it might be.

Ernest grew convinced. This path was certainly taking them toward water.

Now, there was only one thing left for Ernest to watch out for.

"Stop."

Ernest, who had been moving swiftly, suddenly halted and glanced around carefully. The other cadets, seeing his familiar gesture, instinctively drew their swords and bows, hiding themselves behind trees.

Clack.

Ernest set the string on his bow, which he had strapped to his back, and pulled out an arrow, nocking it in one smooth motion. He moved without hesitation, unconcerned by any noise.

"..."

After that, a strange silence fell over the forest Ernest's dark eyes swept quickly and clearly over the surrounding terrain, sharp and unwavering.

Then, keeping low, he began to move forward, gliding almost imperceptibly slow.

Tatadak.

At Ernest's hand signal, two cadets darted off to the left flank. They struggled to steady their breathing, which had grown ragged, as they found new positions.

Next, Ernest sent two more to secure the right flank.

'Useless.'

Watching them, Ernest sighed inwardly. Thanks to the grueling training he'd put them through all year, the second-year cadets had developed a keen eye for details that noble boys their age typically didn't possess.

But still, from Ernest's perspective, there was much they lacked—and to a Ranger, they might as well not have been there at all.

What Ernest wanted from them was to cover his blind spots, to observe from angles he couldn't see, and alert the group to danger. Instead, the cadets didn't even seem to grasp his intent and simply focused on infiltration, just as they had always done during Mock Battle Training.

...

Ernest hesitated for a moment. It was so brief that to an outside observer, it wasn't even clear if he'd paused to think at all—he seemed to be moving with desperate urgency.

"Ha!"

As Ernest broke cover, emerging from behind a tree, a short laugh echoed from deeper within the forest.

Instantly, without the slightest hesitation, Ernest drew and released his bow.

Pak!

The arrow shot like lightning, piercing through the thicket. But before it could reach its mark, the target was already dashing away like the wind, stepping nimbly over rough, moss-covered roots.

It's a Ranger.

Ernest hadn't spotted the Ranger and attacked him specifically. It was just that the terrain was so perfectly suited for an ambush that it would have been unthinkable not to attack.

After pausing to reinforce his vigilance, he simply struck at a likely spot where the enemy might be hiding.

Maybe the Rangers hadn't expected someone like Ernest, because they'd hidden themselves in a spot that was pretty blatantly obvious.

In short, Ernest's attack had landed only because he'd gotten lucky.

"Shoot."

"Gah!"

Ernest's low command rang out. The flustered cadets, unfamiliar with their bows, desperately tried to fire. But unless you're practiced with a bow, it's hard even to pull the string back. Even nocking the arrow takes ages.

Seeing his helpless comrades and the rapidly approaching Ranger, Ernest tossed aside his bow and quickly drew his dagger with his right hand.

"Look at this one!"

The charging Ranger burst out laughing.

Just from the way Ernest gripped his weapon, the Ranger could tell what kind of training he'd been through.

It wasn't the kind of rapier fencing noble young men learned as a hobby or for etiquette—this was a comprehensive killing skill, not merely swordsmanship, designed for hacking through wrists, slashing throats, and gutting people for real.

Ernest launched himself directly at the Ranger, keeping his right hand with the dagger pulled tightly behind his waist and out of the Ranger's line of sight, while using his left hand to push off tree trunks and the ground, dashing forward like a beast.

The Ranger's face was mostly hidden by a mask—only his eyes were visible.

But even with just that, it was clear enough to see he was grinning.

Just as Ernest swung the dagger he'd hidden behind his back, his restless eyes caught sight of the bushes swaying on the left flank.

Ernest threw himself to the ground and rolled. The terrain was so rough and uneven that it wouldn't have been surprising if he'd broken a bone, but in that split second, he relied on the training he'd received from Father Haires to protect himself safely.

Thwack!

An arrow whizzed past Ernest's back, grazing him before striking a tree and bouncing off. Ernest's eyes followed the arrow in flight. There was no arrowhead. Well, of course—it had been fired with exaggerated force through the bushes just to make him dodge in the first place.

Thud!

Just as Ernest skillfully got back on his feet after rolling on the ground, the Ranger's kicking foot swung toward him and slammed into his stomach.

Ernest dropped his stance low, shielding his belly with his left arm, while simultaneously reaching out with his right arm to try and hook the Ranger's leg.

If he could just slice at the ankle with his blade, he could easily take the Ranger down.

"Not bad!"

But the Ranger's overwhelming strength sent Ernest flying, helpless against the force.

Even though he'd lowered his stance and blocked with his arm, the difference in power was too great. Without so much as a groan, Ernest tumbled backward, then sprang right back to his feet like a bouncing toy.

"Argh!"

"Aaagh!"

"..."

Ernest looked around, his eyes flicking over seven cadets who were getting knocked down like scarecrows by two Rangers, then turned his gaze back to the Ranger who was blocking his path.

"Getting to the water this fast wasn't part of the plan."

The Ranger spoke with a voice tinged with laughter.

"How childish. This is nothing but bullying."

Ernest, on the other hand, retorted with an impassive tone.

After the grueling dawn march and the exhausting setup of the campsite, the cadets had gulped down water, leaving almost none remaining. In fact, it was safe to say there was barely any left at all. To make matters worse, the location of the campsite was terribly chosen. It might have worked for one or two people, but for sixty cadets, it was much too far from the water and left them far too vulnerable to enemy attacks.

If the cadets had been left to handle things on their own from the start, that would have been one thing.

But the Rangers had planned all this maliciously, purely to torment them.

And now, they were even trying to block their access to water.

This couldn't even be called training anymore.

It really was just bullying.

"Hahaha..."

The Ranger facing Ernest shook with laughter, his eyes fixed on Ernest as he adjusted his grip on his sword.

"That's right, it's nothing but bullying. That's exactly the point. Even pampered young noble masters need to experience some real hardship."

After saying this, the Ranger casually stepped back.

The other Rangers, having knocked down all the other cadets, also kept their distance, standing back and watching Ernest.

"In that sense, this experience might not be of much help to you. Just leave it as it is. We'll be taking our leave now."

The Ranger nonchalantly stepped back, stopping Ernest from pulling out the small knife he had hidden at his waist with his left hand. The three Rangers silently walked off in different directions and soon disappeared. Ernest, seeing this, stopped being on guard, put away his knife, and went over to his peers.

"Are you alright?"

"…It's humiliating."

Seven of them had rushed at the Rangers with swords in hand, but were thoroughly beaten by just two unarmed Rangers without even landing a blow.

When they came to their senses, they found themselves rolling on the ground, their swords taken away. What made it even more humiliating was that none of them bore any injuries. The Rangers had delivered their blows with such perfect control that, despite punching and kicking, they hadn't broken any bones or caused any internal damage.

"Isn't it a bit arrogant to feel humiliated? That's something you experience only if you're at least a little better than them."

"Hey."

"Kuhuhu…"

At Ernest's spot-on comment, one of the cadets grumbled, and from very nearby, a chuckle could be heard.

Everyone flinched in surprise, but the Ranger didn't attack again.

"For now, let's find water and head back"

"Haa… What's next?"

"We need to move closer to the water."

"Damn it. We just finished setting up the whole campsite."

"It's probably all been torn down by now."

"What? Why?"

As one of his peers staggered up and asked, Ernest let out a deep sigh and answered.

"Those nasty adults are probably smashing up the campsite they made us build and laughing about it right now."

Ernest's prediction was spot-on.

Not long after he left to find water, twelve Rangers staged a surprise raid.

They silently slipped past the clumsy traps set up by the cadets, quickly subdued those standing guard, and then fired blunt arrows at the trainees, throwing everything into chaos. Armed with nothing but wooden sticks, they charged and beat every single cadet down.

Then, they mercilessly tore down every last tent that the cadets had struggled to put up after the morning march. With no way to fight back, the subdued cadets could do nothing but watch in helpless disbelief.

"No! Don't do that! You bastards!"

"Oh, quit whining. Go stand over there if you don't want to get hurt."

"Oh, no! Oh, no! Look at these soldiers, smashing up the homes of defenseless kids!"

"…What's with this guy…?"

Robert, who'd avoided any thought of fighting and was hanging back, saw what was happening and rushed over, desperate, clinging to one of the Rangers.

But the merciless adults, hell-bent on teaching these youngsters a hard lesson, didn't hold back in the slightest.

"Oh, water."

The Rangers, delighted, discovered that the remaining water supplies had been stored inside one of the tents.

"Oh, please! You really can't take that!"

"C-couldn't you at least show us some dignity as officer cadets?"

Robert ran up, collapsed to his knees, and grabbed onto the Ranger's leg pleadingly.

The Rangers, caught off guard, hadn't expected anyone to actually behave this way and couldn't completely hide their surprise.

Being honorable soldiers who usually stood at the front lines, the Rangers suddenly felt like conscripted bullies from a bygone era, tormenting helpless civilians.

"All of this is confiscated."

After chugging down what little water was left, the Rangers proceeded to dump the rest onto the ground right in front of the devastated cadets.

"Good luck surviving."

The Rangers tossed a half-hearted farewell to the shell-shocked cadets, then strode off without a second glance, disappearing into the depths of the forest.

"Ernest was right."

In the campsite—no, what used to be the campsite—Ferdinand's weary voice echoed through the despairing silence.

"Let's get things together. We'll need to move as soon as Ernest gets back."

With that, Ferdinand forced himself to rally and began tidying up their wrecked gear.

Of all the cadets, Ferdinand was in the worst shape.

With his height and build, nearly unbelievable for a fifteen-year-old, coupled with his great strength and combat skills, he'd put up such fierce resistance that even the Rangers had a hard time subduing him without injury.

It had taken two Rangers, armed with sticks, quite a long struggle of beating, shoving, and grappling to finally restrain him. Of course, had they truly wanted to kill him, they could have done so with their bare hands—or ended it quietly with a single arrow from the start.

Not long after, Ernest returned to what used to be their campsite. The cadets, seeing each other's battered appearances, could immediately guess what everyone had been through.

"I found water. Let's share it out, drink a little, and get moving."

The water Ernest brought amounted to just twenty-four waterskins. It was nowhere near enough for sixty people to share. Still, it was enough to wet their parched throats for now.

"We'll probably be attacked at least once while we're on the move—maybe more. They might have even set traps along the path we just took."

Ernest calmly warned them of the enemy's potential assault.

"And even after we move, the attacks will keep coming. It'll probably go on like this for all three days, with almost no rest. We'll barely have any time to sleep at all."

"..."

"Getting food will be nearly impossible. Forget trying to hunt with bows—there's no chance. Even if we try to set traps, they'll just break them all."

"Then what are we supposed to do? Just go three days without sleep, starving, able to do nothing, and then call it training? How is this even training? This is unfair!"

The complaints finally spilled out in a voice thick with frustration, in response to Ernest's explanation of their situation. The cadets had endured all kinds of unreasonable circumstances before, biting back their frustration and focusing on training, but this was going too far. This couldn't even be called training anymore.

"They're doing this to teach us about that very unfairness."

Ernest spoke in a calm tone.

There was no hint of emotion in his voice, and his usually clear gaze seemed darker and heavier than usual.

"I think they want us to experience failure and despair. During a war, running out of supplies and going hungry isn't anything special. Staying up all night through relentless skirmishes is common, too."

"..."

"Have any of you ever truly gone hungry? Have you ever stayed up all night in a cold, dark forest?"

There was no one who could answer Ernest's question.

Most cadets admitted to the Imperial Military Academy were the young masters of prestigious houses, and even the minor nobles came from very wealthy families. For someone like Ernest, a hereditary noble from a rich family, it would be stranger if he'd ever been forced to spend hungry, sleepless nights in a forest, waiting in vain for game that never came.

"Not every effort is rewarded. There are those for whom even putting in a hundred times our effort isn't enough to even begin. All the hardships and adversity you've faced so far have occurred with people looking after you. Look at the commoners. No matter how hard they work all their lives, earning enough to survive each day is difficult—so many end up starving or freezing to death. Can you really say that what you're experiencing now is unjust compared to them?"

At Ernest's calm words, Wilfried flinched, snapping his head up to stare at him. Ernest, however, wasn't even looking his way. Despite that, Wilfried felt as if Ernest was speaking right to him and was tormented by it.

"They're commoners! We're nobles!"

But not everyone could be ashamed of their privileges the way Wilfried Ravid, the renowned Duke's son, was.

In truth, the very fact that Wilfried could think that way was itself unthinkable.

At his status, such thoughts bordered on treason.

"Being a noble doesn't make bullets miss you."

"..."

Ferdinand answered in Ernest's place.

"The reason nobles rarely die on the battlefield isn't because of anything special. It's simply because nobles are kept in safe places."

Ferdinand spoke in a voice reminiscent of his grandfather's—though noticeably younger.

"While commoners aim their guns at the enemy and fall one by one, nobles sit back, sipping wine, treating command like a mock combat exercise, relishing the glory of victory and swallowing the bitterness of defeat. But the ones who die don't even get the chance to taste that defeat."

The reason Ferdinand could say this was because he had already steeled himself. He had conviction. Because of that conviction, even those who knew nothing dared not challenge him. Ferdinand's words carried that much weight.

The eldest grandson of the 2nd Corps Chief of Staff spoke solemnly.

"We must understand the weight of the responsibility we bear for those dying on the battlefield. That's what that twisted Instructor Kohler has been trying to teach us, and it's something we couldn't truly learn until we experienced it ourselves."

With a faint smile yet a resolute air, Ferdinand continued,

"We need to suffer. We have to be prepared to suffer more in the days ahead. After all, if soldiers don't endure hardship, who will?"

He could say this not because he'd been forced or pressured into becoming a soldier, nor because, as Hartmann's son, it was expected of him, but because he had chosen this life out of his own conviction.

"Before sunset, we need to find a spot and secure our safety."

In the now somber atmosphere, Ernest said calmly,

"Let's go. We don't have time."

The cadets began walking without complaint. No one muttered about the unfairness of it all anymore.

***

"The Chief of Staff's eldest grandson is really something."

"He's more than just impressive—he's outstanding."

"But in the end, he's still one of the high and mighty."

The Rangers, who pretended to have left but were actually eavesdropping near the campsite, whispered among themselves about the cadets' conversation.

"Those stuck-up Rangers act like they're something special. With the Chief of Staff's eldest grandson, he'll be promoted to major and become a corps staff officer in the blink of an eye once he's commissioned."

"Haha… Only a Ranger would dare say things like that, don't you think?"

"Right, it's our job to look ahead for the army, after all."

"Just don't say that outside. You'll get shot on the spot for sure."

"Don't you think they can handle themselves?"

"They said we only have to do it once tonight."

"Just once? Isn't that too little?"

"If you don't like it, why don't you go complain? Just because you want to keep tormenting those young noble masters all night."

"If they say do it, we do it…"

After hearing about the revised plan, the Rangers concluded that, apparently, those higher up had decided it wouldn't do to torment the sons of those important people at the Imperial Military Academy too much. Or maybe it was because these young masters seemed more capable than expected, so they decided to give them a bit of a break.

"By the way, did you see that guy?"

"What do you mean 'that guy,' you bastard? Are you trying to get yourself killed? If you don't want a knife shoved up your ass, watch your mouth. Do you want to see everyone hanged one after another just because you got involved?"

One Ranger threatened another for carelessly referring to and judging those highborn boys.

Even if the Ranger hid his rank and unit, insulting nobles as a common soldier wouldn't be overlooked. If you get mixed up with the wrong words, you really could end up with everyone getting hanged or shot.

At the warning, the Ranger flinched and glanced around nervously, then spoke more cautiously.

"The one with black hair."

"Krieger."

"Yeah, Krieger. The instructor was right to say he was someone to watch out for."

"Heh… Earlier, he gave me the chills."

As the Rangers whispered, another Ranger chimed in—the one who'd faced Ernest.

"That crazy bastard really meant it. He genuinely tried to kill me—shot his bow and swung his sword like he fully intended to finish me off. I appreciate you giving me some credit, but if I'd messed up, I'd either be dead or crippled right now."

In that moment, Ernest had truly attacked the Ranger with the intent to kill.

He wondered if this was really okay, but he didn't agonize over it for long.

They were Rangers—surely they could handle themselves.

With that in mind, he simply shot his bow and swung his sword with the intention to kill.

If what he had in his hand hadn't been a bow but a gun, that careless attitude might have ended with an innocent Ranger getting a bullet through the head.

"Hey, hey, can't you watch your mouth? Are you out of your mind too?"

"So what? Who's going to hear us besides us?"

"That kind of talk becomes a habit, and one day you blurt it out somewhere else and end up hanging for it."

"Somewhere else? Where? I can't even remember the last time I saw my own kid."

"..."

They got paid well and received plenty of honor.

But Rangers could never escape this godforsaken forest. As highly skilled personnel, Rangers were always in short supply. On top of that, they handled all sorts of secret information and, most importantly, knew details about fellow Rangers, so they walked around constantly burdened with both protection and surveillance.

Those with families only heard about their children growing up through letters. Still, since the pay was hefty, they kept at the Ranger work, convinced at least their families wouldn't want for anything.

For a commoner to earn this kind of money, there was hardly any job besides being a Ranger.

"Well, shall we get going now?"

"Damn. I wish we could stick around and keep messing with the kids a bit longer."

"Watch your mouth."

The Rangers started moving west to change shifts with the group keeping tabs on the Bellian Rangers. For all their bluster, if they actually got breached and even the slightest threat reached the Officer Cadets, the consequences would be disastrous.

"I just don't get it—if they want to train, why not do it somewhere safe? Why come all the way out to this dangerous border?"

"Precisely because it's dangerous—that's what makes it real training."

"And honestly, who else but us could give them this kind of experience?"

"Yeah, yeah. Here come the 2nd Corps Rangers. Everyone, heads down, faces to the ground, show some respect."

"At least they could load us up with supplies after this."

"I heard a rumor—they're letting people take turns going on leave."

"What? Really? Does that mean I can finally see my daughter after three years?"

"I doubt they'll give you time off for that long…"

"Damn."

The Rangers disappeared into the forest. Once again, silence fell over the woods.

All that remained was the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.

Again today, the Rangers would have to fight fierce battles that drew not a single drop of blood, all in places no one would ever know.