Second Life as a Soldier

My sparring sessions with Lief continued for five more days.

We both improved faster than either of us expected, the difference between training under pressure and fighting an equal. Sparring with Walter had been like facing a storm; every movement was correction and punishment. But with Lief, the exchange was balanced, push and counter, strike and retreat. We traded lessons through bruises and laughter, and for the first time in months, training almost felt like Stonegate again.

When I relied on my other skills, [Perceptive Instinct (UC)] and [Mana Reinforcement (UC)], I could edge out a win. But when it came to pure technique, Lief’s spear always found its mark first. His movements were sharper, his angles cleaner, and he never wasted strength.

Even my own spear skills had improved. Every day, we divided our time: a few sessions where we used only spear techniques, and a few sparring sessions where we incorporated other skills as well. It allowed both of us to sharpen our strengths and work on our shortcomings.

On the sixth morning, he left for another expedition beyond the wall. Watching him march out through the gate stirred something in me. I finally understood why the Vanguard was respected, not just for their strength, but for what they faced while the rest of us built and waited.

Most of the fort’s forces were concentrated behind the wall, preparing for the tide. The Vanguard, meanwhile, fought outside it, thinning out the stronger beasts before they could gather. A single twelve-man Vanguard team operated alone in a forest filled with thousands of monsters ready to tear them apart on sight. But their strength was on a completely different level.

According to Lief, every Vanguard squad had at least three Tier 3 veterans, with the rest being high-level Tier 2s. Only the newest members were on the weaker side of a Vanguard squad. In his squad, there were three new recruits in total, two of them early Tier 2, and Lief himself, who had only just reached the peak of Tier 1.

It was no wonder their reputation carried the weight of legends.

I kept working on the mid-line trenches while they were gone. Lief had often teased me during his stay, calling me “Commander of Latrine Digging” whenever he found me covered in mud and sweat. But trenches weren’t just holes in the ground. Each line we dug was a wall of survival carved from dirt and exhaustion.

The mid-line trenches demanded precision. Every section had to be reinforced, rune-etched picks, spike traps, and sharpened logs, all strengthened with Earth runes. The archer towers needed simple Fire runes etched into their frames. They served dual purposes: beacons to draw flying beasts and traps to ignite when abandoned. If a tower was overrun, archers would pull back and trigger the rune, a burst of fire engulfing the structure, killing anything within reach.

The mid-line was meant to hold.

But the inner ditch, that was designed to kill.

The inner ditch was the masterpiece of the fort’s defense, positioned between the mid-line trenches and the outer wall. Fifty meters of calculated death.

It wasn’t a simple trench; it was a sculpted battlefield. Curved earthen ramparts guided the flow of charging beasts into narrow funnels where elevation shifts made retreat impossible. Rows of removable palisade spikes jutted from the ground like broken teeth, hiding rune-inscribed anchors beneath them. When triggered, those runes hardened the soil into stone for ten seconds, enough to trap any creature mid-charge.

Behind the funnels were the designated infantry fighting positions, low, staggered platforms dug into the ground, spaced evenly along the slope. Each platform allowed squads to lock shields, brace spears, or rotate forward in waves as the beasts crashed into the kill zone. These positions had been placed with terrifying precision, overlapping in such a way that no creature entering the ditch would escape being struck from three angles at once.

The main archers on the wall provided long-range support, while the forward ranged squads on the ground offered mid-range volleys before falling back. Together, their crossfire turned the space between the rampart and the ditch into a perfect killing field even before the infantry engaged.

During the rune work of the inner ditch, I was hardly involved. Being part of the construction team meant I had other duties to attend to while the rune squads handled the inscriptions. But now that the construction work was finally finished, I once again found myself walking toward the command building, this time to meet the Rune-Master.

When I entered the meeting room, I was surprised to see another familiar face. After running into Sergeant Cole and Lief earlier, I really hadn’t expected anyone else I knew to be here. Five people stood around a large table in the center. A middle-aged man occupied the head of the room, and Master Aldren Vey stood to his right.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it’s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

As I stepped inside, the conversation paused. I saluted, then greeted Vey.

“Good morning, Master Aldren.”

He gave a small nod. “Nice to see you again, Edward. How’s the fort treating you? I see even after becoming a soldier you’ve kept your interest in runes.”

“Good, Master Aldren,” I replied. “And no, I don’t think I’ll be losing my curiosity toward runes anytime soon.”

A deep voice spoke from the center. “Aldren, is this the one you recommended for reinforcing the eastern trench runes?”

“Yes, teacher,” Vey said. “Edward, this is Rune-Master Tharic Denmor, my teacher and the Rune-Master overseeing the fort.”

“Sir—” I dipped my head, about to thank him.

“Do not thank me,” he cut me off, his tone harder than before. “It wasn’t a favor. I reviewed your rune work before assigning you. I personally inspected your trench engravings.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied and nodded, realizing he was making it clear this assignment was based on skill, not charity.

Once everyone had gathered, Rune-Master Tharic took control of the room.

“Alright,” he began, his voice measured and clear. “Everyone here has worked either with my team or under independent assignments related to rune maintenance. The purpose of this meeting is to outline our next phase.

“Our primary focus will be repairing or etching new runes onto armor, shields, and weapons in the armory. Most of these will be strengthening and self-repair runes.”

He unfolded a detailed map of the fort across the table. The parchment showed the outer and inner walls, towers, and defense lines, several areas marked with the numbers 1, 2, and 3. Each number corresponded to a complex rune diagram displayed beside the map.

“My team will leave the fort in one month for Stonegate to begin rune work there. Only Master Seren Althir” he gestured toward a middle-aged man standing to his left, “will remain here to oversee the arrays during the tide.”

He continued, “During your training, you’ll study three major defensive arrays. These arrays have existed since the fort’s construction. Over the last three months, we’ve repaired them with new materials. You’ll participate in the final phase so that you can assist Master Seren with maintenance during the tide.”

Tharic’s sharp eyes swept across the room. “For those of you unfamiliar with arrays, an array is formed through a combination of multiple runes to create a specific, large-scale effect. As you can see, the three numbered markers on this map represent the following:

Earth-Stability Array – marked (1), Impact Dissipation Grid – marked (2), Aegis Array – marked (3).

“You will not be learning to draw these arrays in full, they’re far too advanced, but you will be taught their structure and maintenance protocols so that you can assist Master Seren effectively.

“The Earth-Stability Array’s mana nodes are located at each tower, with the command center serving as its anchor. Its purpose is to harden the ground beneath the fort and prevent tunneling beasts from breaching our defenses.

“The Impact Dissipation Grid, shown here as number two, is inscribed across the fort’s outer walls. Its function is to absorb and redirect the force of impacts into the earth, reducing direct damage.

“Finally, the Aegis Array, similar in layout to the Earth-Stability Array, links the towers together. While the Earth-Stability Array protects against underground attacks, the Aegis Array shields the sky, projecting a defensive dome over the fort.”

Tharic’s tone hardened. “Understand this, these arrays are the fort’s last line of defense. They require immense quantities of mana crystals, especially the Aegis Array. Even so, the Aegis can only withstand one or two strikes from a Tier-4 beast, or perhaps a dozen from Tier-3 flyers. Those of you fighting on the front lines must remember, your efforts remain vital to this fort’s survival.”

Once the schedule and fortification details were confirmed, the meeting concluded and everyone was dismissed. I stayed behind.

I knew I might be pushing my luck, but after analyzing the mana oath badge over the last few weeks, there were questions I couldn’t ignore, and since Master Vey was here, this might be my only chance to ask.

“Master Vey,” I began carefully, “if you have a moment, I have a few questions. I’ll try not to take too much of your time.”

He nodded. “Go ahead.”

“I was analyzing the mana oath enforcement badge,” I said, choosing my words with care. “Two questions, actually. First, it has a node at the center. Is that node the same as the ones we draw in arrays?

And second, there are several symbols engraved around it. Most I don’t understand, but I recognize a few: spirals, looping crosses, and intersecting lines. How should I approach learning their meaning?”

Before Master Vey could respond, Rune-Master Tharic spoke instead.

“You’re able to analyze that badge?” he asked, his tone sharp. “That’s a high-tier construct. I can inscribe a badge like that, one or two, at most, but producing them in any meaningful quantity requires a Tier-4 Rune-Master to stabilize the deeper layers. Don’t waste your time on them for now.”

He paused, folding his arms. “What I can tell you is this: the node in an array is entirely different. Array nodes are just concentrations of mana, their elemental properties matching the nature of the land where the node is placed, and they are designed solely to power the structure. What you see on the badge isn’t a node, but a grain-sized replica of a mana core, its element aligned to the inscriber’s affinity, stable, self-contained, and capable of channeling intent.”

His gaze lingered on me for a moment. “Now, that’s enough for today. Dismissed. Prepare for your assigned work.”

“Yes, sir,” I said quickly, bowing slightly before leaving the room.

As I stepped out into the corridor, a faint anticipation for the future grew inside me.

A part of me was worried I would hit a wall in runes as well, simply because I didn’t have an elemental affinity. But another part of me was thrilled. If I could understand the runes embedded within that badge, maybe I could uncover how mana cores were truly formed, and why creating one without at least eighty percent elemental affinity was considered impossible.