Second Life as a Soldier

Just focusing on rune repair did not help push away all the worries, so I followed my own advice and talked to Walter, Colin, Jack, and Owen. I came to the conclusion that everyone was scared unless they were the kind of people who simply did not fear death at all. Slowly, I realized why the military routine was so important. It kept us busy. Routine gave us a sense of predictability, something to focus on instead of letting fear spiral.

But during our free time, other patterns began to appear. We had a lot of casual squad meetings, joking around just to distract ourselves. I saw people praying to the elemental gods. Some were in denial, not about the beast tide itself, but about the danger it posed. My fear eased a little once Leif started showing up again. He still was not his old self, but he was getting there. For now, he focused on building his strength, just as I focused on my rune work.

Today, I finally completed my spear with all the runes. I looked at the finished weapon. This was one of my best works yet. All four runes on the shaft and the runes on the spear tip were properly aligned, connected through a thin groove running along the wood. This would not only let me transfer mana more easily but also activate the runes faster while reducing the mana cost of the entire process.

It had taken me more than eight days to finish it, mostly because I was not only working on my own spear but also repairing and adding extra runes on my squadmates’ shields and armor. It took some convincing, but I managed to get the Lieutenant to issue me extra mana liquid, especially with the spike in beast activity near the fort. It felt as if the beast tide had already begun, and we were stuck in a phase where the monsters were trying to tire us out and test the fort’s endurance.

Injuries had become a common sight now. Instead of facing only one or two Tier 1 herds, we had faced three or four of them in a single day. Yesterday we even encountered a wolf pack led by a Tier 2 alpha. The final phase of the tide was closing in fast, and any day now we would hear the siren signaling the peak of the tide and our last stand. Based on the best estimates we received, the final tide was about ten days away.

“Hey Edward, I see you finished your spear. Come join us for a drink?” Owen called out, pointing at the campfire. Almost the whole squad was sitting there, except Walter, and even the conscripts were present. Over the last month, the new recruits had formed a bit of a bond with the conscripts, and my being friendly with them helped lower some of the mistrust the newcomers had toward the conscripts.

The older members of the squad and the conscripts still didn’t talk much to each other, but at least they tolerated being in the same space. And I think Varrick and Barry enjoyed making the older members uncomfortable, so they probably dragged the other two conscripts over as well.

“Alright, you bastards, give it up for the guy who’s spilled more of our blood than the beasts have” Barry announced as Owen and I walked toward the group.

Even Colin and Jack joined in, clapping like they were welcoming a returning noble. So, naturally, I lifted my hand and gave a slow, exaggerated noble wave.

“And to this special member,” Jack said, stepping forward dramatically, “I present an extra strong drink. May he lose his cool today and get into a drunken brawl.”

He handed me a cup of rum filled to the brim.

“Oh, I’d love to see Edward pick a fight,” Owen said, earning laughter from the whole circle.

“Don’t be so confident,” I shot back, pointing at Jack. “I might pick a fight with you. It would look bad for you to lose another sparring match against someone younger than you. After all, you already know exactly how that defeat tastes.”

The group erupted with loud “oooohs” as I reminded Jack of the spar he’d lost.

“That was one time out of more than five spars,” he grumbled.

“I don’t know… I’d be ashamed of myself if that happened to me,” Owen added, easily shifting the teasing spotlight from me to Jack.

We kept talking for a while. For the past fifteen days, we’d made an unofficial rule: no beast tide talk and no negative topics when we gathered as a group. So instead, we joked around, poked fun at each other, shared stories, and sometimes even showed off hidden talents.

Out of twenty people in the squad, four could sing surprisingly well. Barry and Varrick had a frighteningly good talent with knives, not just in combat, but in throwing them. They used a tree stump near the fire as a target, and every now and then, a blade would thud into the wood with a clean, satisfying sound. I hoped to learn from them someday. I had a standard-issue knife, but I mostly used it to harvest beast parts or carve runes.

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The night air was cool, and the flames of the campfire crackled steadily, sending sparks drifting into the darkness. Someone tossed in a thick branch, and the fire popped loudly. Shadows danced over our armor and faces, softening the exhaustion etched into all of us. The smell of burning wood mixed with sweat, leather, and the faint scent of rum.

After a while, Colin clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. The chatter faded, replaced by the quiet hum of the fire.

“I know we decided not to talk about sad stuff, but Walter and I have arranged something important,” he said. “We’re each contributing a small amount of silver. It’ll be used to send something home to our families if something happens. A letter, an item, or the money you’ve saved here at the fort. Walter’s putting in extra so every family gets an additional ten silver.”

A few murmurs spread through the circle. No one liked the reminder, but everyone understood why it mattered.

“This setup is approved by the quartermaster,” Colin continued. “If you don’t know how to write, Jack and I…” He pointed at himself, then at me. “…and I’m sure Edward will be happy to help.”

He pointed at me, and I nodded. I didn’t mind writing letters for others. It wasn’t like I had anyone of my own to write to.

This was the extra effort Walter and Colin were putting in. According to army rules, whatever salary a soldier was owed, along with an extra mana stone, would be given to the families of those who died at the fort. But the army did not cover the cost of sending letters or items. You could send them, but the cost was deducted from your pay, so most soldiers avoided it.

With Walter and Colin contributing silver, I was sure many people here would finally send something home.

I had no one to write to. But I still made my decision.

All the salary I had earned would be given to my friends Erick, Leif, Henry, and Farid equally.

In total, I had earned six mana stones: four from my regular salary over the months, and one per month for the extra work I had been doing.

Out of those, I had used only 2 for cultivation so far, and I kept two aside for healing and preparation for the beast tide. The rest would go to them. It was a significant amount. If converted into gold, it came to around twenty gold coins. I was sure they would appreciate it.

I kept the only two mana crystals for the coming tide because, at my absorption rate, they would last me a full forty eight hours, enough to get through the peak twice.

If I survived that, I could always use whatever remained later.

Colin’s announcement had put a damper on the mood, so after a bit more quiet conversation, people slowly began making their way back to the longhall. The fire dimmed, the night breeze picked up, and the earlier laughter faded into tired silence.

In the morning, while I was freshening up, Walter caught me.

“Hey, Edward,” he said.

“Hey, Walter. Great thing you’re doing, helping the new recruits with their letters,” I replied as I turned toward him.

A frown immediately formed on his face.

“Colin told you?” he asked.

“Yeah, yesterday. He told all of us,” I said.

“I’m going to kill him,” he muttered.

That was when I realized Walter never wanted credit for it. The thought hit me so suddenly that I burst out laughing. Walter was the one person who never joined any squad meetings or casual conversations. Now he’d be surrounded all day by people thanking him. I didn’t know Colin had it in him, but he really pulled one over on Walter.

“Oh, you’re so noble, Walter. I’m sure everyone will want to thank you personally,” I grinned from ear to ear before laughing again.

He slapped me lightly on the head, then told me to follow him inside the Longhall. Once inside, he rummaged through his backpack for a moment before turning to me again and handing me a chain with a large, blunt canine tooth hanging as a pendant.

“In my last squad, I wanted to start a ritual,” he said quietly. “This fang was meant to come from the strongest beast we hunted together, something to mark our progress as a squad. But I never got the chance. So I hope you’ll carry the ritual forward when you eventually lead your own squad.”

The gesture, and his confidence in me, meant more than I expected. Even so, I hesitated before taking it.

“Umm… I’m not sure I should take it, Walter. If it’s something you consider lucky, then maybe you should keep it.”

It wasn’t uncommon. Most of us had something we treated as a personal charm. For me, it was the small silver chain my father had given me as a child. Even with foreign memories in my head, that necklace felt important. It was one of the few things I could truly call mine, even though it was only made of silver.

“What? Luck?” Walter snorted. “If I relied on luck, I’d have died a long time ago. No, this is about responsibility. About choosing people you believe will do things right.”

He tugged at his collar and revealed an identical chain resting against his chest.

“See? I’m already wearing mine. You’re getting yours early because you’re going to need it when you start leading people someday.”

Feeling a bit relieved, and honestly proud, I accepted the chain.

“I don’t know about leading anyone,” I said quietly. “But if I ever do, my whole squad will wear these chains proudly. And I’d want you as the first private in that squad.”

Walter smirked. “Then don’t screw up.”