Second Life as a Soldier

We stood at the top of the tower, a few laborers grinding fully-consumed air-mana crystals into fine dust. That dust would become the material for the Air symbol of the Aegis Array, while I carved the symbol using a chisel. Once the carving was finished, I picked up the dust and filled it into the grooves. Then I asked smelter, who was standing beside me, to pour the melted iron. It was similar to the iron used for the Earth-Stability Array, except this batch was air-aligned, extracted from ore near a wind-crystal deposit.

By the time the sun dipped toward the horizon, we finished the final piece of work. This was our last day of rune duty. Starting tomorrow, we would be reassigned to regular soldier work with our original squads. I was also hoping to finally get some time to cash in my promised library visit and the three days of training at the healing station.

Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I took a final look at the symbol I had drawn. Once satisfied with the work, I exhaled and gave a small nod to the people around me. Master Vey clapped his hands to gather everyone’s attention.

“Great work, everyone. It’s been a pleasure working with you all. A few of you have impressed the Rune-Master enough for him to use his authority, as a Tier 3 Rune-Master, to grant Tier 1 badges. These Tier 1 badges represent the official title of Rune Apprentice. Tier 2 is called Rune Adept, and Tier 3 is Rune-Master.”

“Edward, Rubin, Hari, your badges. They don’t grant significant authority within the army, but they will be counted during promotions and future squad assignments, and they carry considerable value outside the military. Good work.”

He handed each of us a badge and shook our hands.

I received mine and examined the design, tracing the small runes engraved on it. It was far simpler than the oath badges, just a circle and a star. Both symbols served only one function: recording mana signatures. The circle seemed to hold a different imprint, likely belonging to the Rune-Master who issued the badge.

I pricked my finger and let a drop of blood fall onto it. The star absorbed it along with a faint trace of my mana, sealing my signature into the badge.

When the process finished, I looked up to find Master Vey, Rubin, and Hari staring at me with mildly amused expressions. Heat crept up my neck, and I scratched the back of my head in embarrassment.

Master Vey shook his head. “We’re done with rune work for now. All of you, do your best to support Master Seren Althir during and after the beast tide.” He finished with a final nod.

We descended the tower and split off in different directions. I headed toward the Longhall, where I spotted Colin and Jack talking with five of the newer squad members, Richard, Alan, Sean, Ben, and Ian. They were Tier-1 recruits from villages near Stonegate, brought in specifically for the beast tide. The rest of the newcomers were missing, likely still caught up in chores, equipment work, or night watch with Owen.

Seeing them made Leif’s words echo in my mind. He and I had been fortunate. We trained for almost a year before Awakening, then another year on the frontlines afterward. These villagers were older, some even older than Colin and Jack, yet under-leveled and with barely any military experience.

I had been avoiding spending too much time with them. Partly because I was always busy, but also because every conversation about their families or backgrounds sent me into a tailspin of depressing thoughts. They were vulnerable, just normal farmers pulled from their ordinary lives and thrown into a meat grinder, with barely any time to prepare for the danger ahead.

And truthfully, even I might not fully understand the level of danger they were about to face.

And even after all that, the worst part, the real reason I avoided them, was the whisper at the back of my mind. The militaristic part of me kept saying that their weakness made the entire squad vulnerable. Every formation drill, I caught myself analyzing the risks they introduced, how easily they could die, how exposed they’d leave us when facing threats like Steelbeaks or Venelions.

And those thoughts made me hate myself.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The more I thought about it, the tighter the self-loathing wrapped around my ribs. The last two years had changed me in ways I wasn’t comfortable admitting. I was becoming colder, more calculating. Somewhere along the way, analyzing formations, runes, and military theory had turned into measuring human lives by formation gaps and battlefield liabilities.

I had never been an overly compassionate or empathetic person. In both my lives, I focused on myself. Even after joining the army, survival mattered more than anything else. And yet, it still felt cruel to look at innocent recruits, people who were here because they had no choice, and see only weak points that could get us killed.

I forced myself to breathe and pushed the thoughts down. When I lifted my head, Colin was already looking my way. Our eyes met across the firelit courtyard; he raised a hand to get my attention. I made my way toward the group, boots scraping over the packed dirt. For some reason, everyone looked more tense than usual, shoulders tight, faces stiff, smiles forced.

“How was your day?” Colin asked as I joined them.

“Great,” I said, letting out a tired breath. “Last day of other duties. From tomorrow, I’m a full-time squad member again.” I tapped the small metal badge pinned to my chest. “I also got my Tier 1 rune badge.”

I held it out, and everyone leaned in closer, the firelight catching the etched markings on its surface.

“Great. Congratulations, Edward,” Colin said. His voice carried genuine warmth despite the tension hanging over the group. “That means you’re officially back with us?”

“Yeah.” I managed a smile.

Jack elbowed me lightly, grinning. “About time. We were starting to think Rune-Master Tharic was adopting you.”

That earned a few weak chuckles.

But the unease didn’t fade. Their smiles felt too rigid.

“What happened? You all looked a little tense when I walked over,” I asked.

Colin’s grin slipped. “Well… sorry to inform you, but you won’t be getting much rest. Starting tomorrow, we’re assigned to patrol outside the outer trench line.”

I frowned. “I didn’t expect that. I thought patrols outside the wall were limited, mostly scouts.”

“Yeah, well…” Colin rubbed the back of his neck. “Ironically, we’ll be protecting the outer trench line.”

That only deepened my confusion. Protecting it from what? The outer trenches were designed for slowing Tier 1 beasts, not something we usually needed to guard.

Colin must have seen the conflict on my face because he sighed and continued before I could ask.

“I was confused too. But the sergeant explained it.” Colin’s expression tightened under the weight of the information. “The tides aren’t gradual like we imagined. The beasts don’t politely wait for the big wave. As the tide gets closer, the forest squeezes them outward. They spill into the cleared plains before the main surge hits. You know the one-kilometer kill zone around the fort? Normally, lower-tier beasts avoid crossing it because a fully cleared area looks like a death trap to them.”

I nodded. That was basic theory. A cleared zone acted like a psychological boundary for weaker beasts, the more that died there, the more the rest learned to avoid it. Most never dared to cross.

“But as the tide draws near,” Colin continued, “herds of low-tier beasts start crossing it anyway. Vanguard squads try to thin them out, but their main job is handling Tier-3 threats. In a normal tide, they can manage both. But during a grand beast tide… the numbers get too high. So we’ll be guarding the outer line until the full force hits.”

That made grim sense. The outer trenches were our first buffer, designed to trim down Tier 1 swarms so the mid-line and kill zone weren’t overwhelmed. If that outer line was damaged or flattened by early herds, the entire defensive layout could collapse in a chain reaction. A bull-whip effect, once one layer failed, the pressure would cascade inward and tear the rest apart.

I sighed and looked between Colin and Jack. “I think I need a drink. You guys have any?”

Jack smirked. “You’re in luck.” He handed me a wooden cup filled with something sharp enough to sting my nose before it even touched my lips.

I settled onto the rough bench beside them, letting the fire’s warmth push back against the creeping chill. The courtyard felt quieter tonight, fewer jokes, fewer arguments, more soldiers staring into flames as if answers might be hiding in the embers.

I had planned to visit the library this week. Maybe stop by the medical unit. Now the chance felt distant, swallowed by duty before I could even take a step toward it. Patrolling the outer line meant facing the early teeth of the tide. Beast fights. Injuries. No time to study unless I forced it.

And that only made the thought sharper: I needed more medical knowledge, so I could stay alive. If the early tide was already here, then when the real surge came, knowing how to treat injuries could be the difference between living and dying. And if I improved that knowledge, maybe I could even advance [Field Medicine (C)] and [Minor Restoration (C)], giving myself a much better chance of surviving.

We drank for a while, mostly in silence. The crackling fire filled the gaps between us, throwing flickers of orange across tired faces. The air smelled of smoke, metal oil, and the faint dampness carried by the night wind. Fear wasn’t the issue, our squad was strong enough to handle smaller herds.

What weighed on everyone was what the patrol represented.

The clock was ticking.

With every passing day, we were inching closer to a calamity, a grand beast tide so overwhelming that survival felt uncertain no matter how much we prepared.