Chapter 13

Chapter 2: Crisis is a Crisis (4)

***

"Forget your past from now on! No one cares if you were nobles or peasants here! There's only one thing that distinguishes you here! Whether you'll become a corpse on the battlefield or wield a sword and survive! Understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

Following the leading soldier, we arrived at a hastily constructed tent on the outskirts of the city, where I saw a mental training session being conducted for the newly conscripted recruits.

'This is a mess.'

The fact that soldiers who need to go to the battlefield immediately are trembling at a single shout is absurd. It's almost a miracle that such soldiers can face the enemy and wield their swords on the battlefield.

'Or, do they know this and are trying to scare them?'

It's hard to instill courage in soldiers, but it's easy to instill fear.

Just put someone who seems to have authority on a high platform, make a loud noise, and wave a sword a few times. If you cut off the head of the first one who runs away as an example, the new recruits will become human shields, unable to wield their swords or run away, and will move forward step by step according to orders.

"Hey, you're all mercenaries, right? Then you don't need mental training. Line up according to your roles. Infantry on the left, spearmen, shield bearers, archers... are there any? If so, stand on the far right."

While observing the situation in the tent, a soldier who seemed to be a centurion took over the group I came with.

"I know what you're thinking. Even as mercenaries, you probably didn't want to stand on such a dangerous battlefield."

"Shit, I don't know a damn thing. We're not like you, getting a regular salary for guarding the city. You expect us to understand being dragged here?"

The centurion's words were met with a curse from a bald mercenary.

"Soldier, what's your name?"

"Hah! What, so you can find me later? Your wife is this bastard! It's great to meet you-"

Swish!

The mercenary couldn't finish his sentence. His head, separated from his body, couldn't speak.

Thud.

The centurion ordered the fallen mercenary's body to be removed, then wiped the blood from his sword with a handkerchief.

"I'm saying this because it seems you have some misconceptions. Whether you feel wronged or angry, this is a battlefield, and you are soldiers. If you disobey orders, you will be dealt with by military law."

"..."

"Answer."

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. I don't expect much from you. Just hold your position according to orders and complete the tasks given to you. Think of it as a regular job. The risk is high, but the lord will pay you a fair price for it."

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. You're quick to catch on. Now, I'll assign you to units based on your roles. Before that, is there anyone who doesn't have personal equipment?"

Most of the group, including the professor, raised their hands. Most were mercenaries, so they had their own armor and weapons, but the quality of military-issued equipment was better than what was sold in stores.

"Even though this is a forced conscription, I don't intend to send you out unarmed. There's some leftover equipment in the tent on the left. Choose what you need. Once you have your equipment, you'll be deployed to the front lines. Make any necessary preparations now."

The centurion's words made the mercenaries hesitate for a moment, but they started moving toward the tent one by one as they saw the glint of spears.

As for me? As soon as the centurion pointed to the tent, I ran over as if someone was chasing me from behind. If I couldn't avoid going to the front lines, I had to move in a way that maximized my chances of survival.

***

"Why are you in such a hurry to run over here?"

"Is this... the best equipment available?"

"Don't you see? That's all the armor and weapons we have. Just find something that fits you."

The reason I ran over wasn't much.

While the regular army's equipment might be decent, the equipment provided to conscripts is usually what's left over after the regular army takes the A-grade stuff. It's old and worn out, and if you want to use something that's still somewhat useful, you have to move faster than others.

But...

[Rusty Shield: A shield that has been used for a long time, cracked and broken. It has absorbed moisture due to poor maintenance.]

[Crumbled Chainmail: Chainmail issued to the Turan regular army. Its durability has sharply decreased due to poor maintenance. / + It smells of vinegar.]

"Are you really giving us this?"

"If you don't like it, go out there unarmed. From the look of you and the way you ran over here, you seem to have some experience as a mercenary. Once the others get here, there won't be anything left for you to use."

Looking back at the supply soldier's words, I saw men waving goodbye to their families, promising to return alive. The new recruits who had just received mental training were also being sent this way. Once they arrived, there would be nothing left, so I had to choose my equipment now.

'Even so, how can you give us such poor equipment? What, vinegar? Did they soak metal items in vinegar to remove rust?'

While complaining inwardly, my eyes quickly scanned the equipment. There was no status window in this game to tell me what equipment was like just by touching it, so I had to rely on my eyes and experience to judge.

By the time the other conscripts finished their tearful goodbyes and trudged to the supply tent, I had already gathered a fair amount of usable equipment.

==========

[Noble Family Training Shield: A shield used for sword training in a noble family. It has been damaged by strong impacts, and the iron axis in the center is twisted. Defense Efficiency -20%]

[Broken Shield of a Decade Leader: A shield issued to a Turan regular army decade leader. It has been poorly repaired by an incompetent blacksmith. It is sturdy but lacks a grip.]

[Halved Kite Shield: The lower part of a kite shield that has been cleanly cut off.]

[Oiled Brigandine: Brigandine armor for the Turan regular army. Its defense has been improved by being well-oiled. / + It smells of rancid pig fat.]

[Leather Sandals: Ordinary leather sandals]

==========

"Hey, you! What are you rummaging through everything for?"

"Ah, nothing, sir!"

"If you've got your equipment, get to the front quickly! The centurion will command you!"

'The command? They'll just throw us into the battlefield and go about their own business.'

It was lucky that the supply soldier didn't care much about the conscripts. Thanks to that, I could sweep up the most useful shields, even though my inventory only had four slots. It seemed they were not only disposing of the soldiers' old equipment but also the nobles' discards.

'Not bad. Since it's equipment that was supplied to nobles, it should have a higher base durability compared to what regular soldiers use.'

"Form ranks! You won't die if you don't break formation! Trust your comrades next to you! Form ranks!!!!"

"I'll cut the throat of anyone who meets my eyes! Don't show your back on the battlefield!"

In the battlefield, where the centurions and drill sergeants were shouting at the top of their lungs, the smell of iron and the sour sweat of nervous people filled the air.

'Corporal! Move out of the way!'

'Lieutenant! This is wrong! If we cut the bridge, the civilians on the other side will all die!'

'If we don't cut it, we'll all die! If we lose more troops here, we'll lose control of this area!'

'Shit! Those people will all be eaten alive!'

'Jeffrey, Duke. Take Corporal Park to the tent.'

'Let go, damn it! The communication lines have been cut for a while now, and you're still giving orders! That guy is just scared shitless from seeing the muts!'

'...Corporal Park's insubordination will be dealt with by military law later. Blow it up.'

'Are you really going to do it?'

'I'll do it if you can't.'

'Stop, you bastard! Stop it-!'

The collapsing bridge and the screaming people were swallowed by a living wave, soon turning the other side red.

The professor had good eyesight, and at that moment, he cursed his ability to see so clearly.

"Damn. Just bringing up useless memories."

The professor shook his head to clear the flood of past memories.

"Turan!!! Defenders!!! Move forward!!!"

"Forward! Forward! Forward!"

The centurion's orders and the soldiers' echoes continued, and the sharp spear tips of the shield-bearing soldiers pointed forward, ready to stab us in the back if we didn't move. The chilling sensation of metal brought him back to his senses.

'They're going to use inexperienced civilians and F-grade mercenaries as human shields. Bastards.'

He had done his best for now, but he hadn't had time to plan beyond getting to the battlefield. If he could survive the initial impact, what then? Could he run back with his body battered from the shock? Or would the guild's mercenaries really form a defensive line behind him and wait for him? If not, would he have no choice but to end it here-

"Ugh! No way! If we