Chapter 2: Chapter 2

2. Chapter 2

Immediately after the fierce battle, those who were satisfied for being still alive with no physical defect, continued to move on the next battlefield without a break. The looting of supplies and things left by the enemy was recognized in the Highserk Empire as way to improve the troops morale.

Walm was reluctant to touch the pocket of the opponent he had killed, but if he kept being hesitant, there would be nothing left for him. And as expected of a man who was called the platoon leader, the things he left behind were great.

A pouch containing silver and bronze coins, a hard-baked biscuit, and a knee pad that protects from the shin to the knee. The pad didn't fit Walm's torso and so he didn't take it.

"Pardon me"

Without thinking much, Walm's hands moved to the dead's hand. Forcibly opened it to take the two-handed sword that the man still clenched even after death.

The dead man almost felt as if he was still alive, but since military chaplain was there, Walm was at ease because he didn't have to worry about the dead becoming a monster.

The sword wasn't bad, but Walm already owned a better-quality longsword.

After sinking into the sea of thought for a while, he raised his voice.

"Is there anyone who wants a sword? It's a good one. I want to exchange it for something else."

Walm decided to barter it. Since with so many abandoned items, there would have been one or two who would meet his needs.

If it was a small item, he would carry it with him, but the two-handed sword was bulky.

It would be a useless long item for Walm who didn't have a Magic Bag.

A soldier reacted before he raised his voice again.

"Your shield looks bad."

Walm's shield, which continued to be attacked, was severely damaged and partly penetrated. If he were to use it in the next battle, there would be a heavy risk of getting damages. On the other hand, the man's shield was simple and robust, with no flashy decorations.

"Let me see it"

"Sure, I want to see it too."

After temporarily exchanging things, Walm looked at the materials and reinforcements. It was lighter than it looks, and when he tried to hit it, a solid sound was returned.

The man also liked the two-handed sword.

Walm and the soldier looked at each other and nodded.

It was a satisfying exchange for each other. After Walm passed the shield trough the sling and carried it on his back, he continued his looting.

"What. He's still breathing."

A squad member looking for loot at the edge of Walm's field of vision found a Liberitoa soldier who was at death's door

If they were alive, they would be sent away as slaves, and if they were aristocrats or rich people, as long as their families could pay the ransom, they would be released.

"He.....lp, me."

His abdomen was full of blood and viscera was coming out from the inside, and the shoulders were also deeply lacerated. Since, blood had flowed too much, even if you used recovery magic on him, he would unlikely stay alive, as his condition was beyond saving.

A thin voice, begging for the help of the Liberitoa soldier, repeatedly reached Walm's ears.

"This is no good"

The soldier who had found it annoying, he stood up, pulled out a longsword from his waist and thrust it into the throat of the Liberitoa soldier lying on the ground.

Walm could have stopped it, but he didn't.

Because from the abdominal cavity of the Liberitoa soldier viscera was flowing out. Even his life got to be extended, he would be in constant suffering. It would only be a waste of resources. Although Walm could understand it by such a reason, he unconsciously distorted his eyebrows with discomfort while watching what happened.

"A, Uugggrhh"

Tch, what a rough guy.

It wasn't right on the vital spot. As the soldier couldn't die instantly, he spited out blood from his mouth and groaned, clenching his hands as if he was holding the pain while seeing the sword stuck in him.

"You suck, move."

It was the head of the squad to which Walm belonged to. Perhaps he couldn't bear watching the suffocating enemy soldiers any longer. When he dismissed his friend by hand, he lifted the war hammer on his shoulder and swung it down.

A dull sound of cracking skull echoed. This time the soldier died. Walm looked away from it. The squad leader glanced at the corpse for a moment then he threw it at the soldier who was standing next to him.

"Tibird, when I'm about to die, I won't ask you for the final blow for sure."

The bearded man snorted. He was Walm's superior, The Squad Commander, Duwei. The war wounds on the whole body were the proof his battle history.

He was average in height but still a little taller than Walm, but his log-like arms and thick chest plate looked so assuring, and above all, he had the skill .

Unlike Walm's previous world, the individual differences of human beings in this world were great. Sure human who could use magic might be rare, but the one who possessed skill was also rare. Both of them were powerful.

There were women who could break a man's arm, scouts who were more agile than animals, and even warrior monks who could stop a slash with their bare hands. Squad Commander Duwei was such a person. His war hammer could crush armored enemies. Walm's impression of him was that he was amongst the ones that he didn't want to meet as an enemy.

As the turmoil had subsided, Walm glanced at the corpse. There might be no such culture. Also, even though Walm was unclear about the faith, he quietly joined hands.

It was an act that helped him diminishing guilt. Some critical opinions were thrown at him, but he ignored them.

"Ah, Walm, are you doing it again?"

"It's like a habit."

"Hmm, I see, well, I don't feel anything bad from it."

In response to Walm, Squad Commander Duwei replied briefly. Perhaps he lost interest, he cut off the story. Around the time when the corpses were no longer valuable, the squad was gathered in one place.

"My squad was ordered to dispose of the corpses in the area. Fortunately, there are many prisoners of war this time. You can use it as you like. Just keep an eye on them."

The prisoners of war were sitting down next to the gathered squad. Walm ran his gaze through them.

In terms of numbers, it was just under 20 people. No one was fatally injured. There were some people with noticeable bruises and lacerations on their heads and arms, but Walm determined that they wouldn't interfere with the squad's work.

Ordered to monitor four prisoners, Walm confirmed their conditions. In addition to escape, if they were injured during work or died, it would be nothing but a wasteful consumption of human assets.

Apparently, there were no major injuries. The face was swollen or had some large bumps. Walm speculated that they might've surrendered in a good manner.

The necks of the four were tied to each other with ropes, and they didn't wear anything that posed a threat. If one of them could use or , it would be dangerous, but if they possessed the skill to break through the rope with their bare hands, they wouldn't be taken as prisoner of war. There were only two options for someone with troublesome ability, either they tried to run away or being killed.

Walm ordered the prisoners to strip off the armor and clothing left on the corpse. Invited by blood, insects and birds happily flock on it. He lazily drove it away with his spear and hands.

Each time, the prisoners trembled and continued to work. Walm pitied that the battle must have worn their mind and body.

Corpses were thrown into the graves dug by another squad's prisoners. He didn't know how many had been thrown there, but Walm's eyes were on one of the corpses that were about to be carried.

"...he dead?"

It was the corpse of a 'young man' who belonged to the same squad and also came from the neighboring village. His age and birthplace were near to Walm, and he often talked about his hometown and common acquaintances.

His lower jaw was crushed along with his teeth, and his tongue was popping out of his mouth. Both eyes were open with an expression full of agony. The truth, it was his first match.

A battle virgin, and without being able to getting rid of his first time, his skeleton was exposed in the distant land.

What is the difference with me?

Is it the memories of previous life? Or our luck? Or the difference in aptitude for killing each other?

Walm went to think about it for a while, but he couldn't get an answer.

His eyes quickly caught the prisoner of war moving slightly. Looking down at them, he stared with no expression, without exchanging any words.

"I-I haven't done anything."

"Me too. I was scared, I couldn't even thrust the spear properly."

The prisoners opened their mouths as if to justify their action. Walm was amazed by it. It was because their words telling him that they were killed because of personal grudges.

Unbelievable...

It would be a lie to say that he never thought anything about it, but they were in a war. That's right. A war. They might only move according to the intentions of their community.

They didn't like to commit murder. They just defeated the enemy, because they were in the war. That was the same for Walm.

If Walm were to bring his personal grudges there and killed them as prisoners of war, he would better be a murderer instead of a soldier. What he did was only following the duties and responsibilities of a soldier.

That one line, he would never want to cross. He could only bring himself to kill other as a soldier. Otherwise, as Raizou Takakura, as Walm, the fundamentals as a person would collapse.

Is it me who is abnormal? To think that killing people is okay as long as for self-protection? No, perhaps, these people, who're claiming that they couldn't kill people, who're hesitating in killing other people, might be more human.

Walm, who was overwhelmed by such thoughts, returned to reality.

He closed the eyelids of his former comrade with his fingers and pushed the tongue into the mouth.

"Carry him"

Hearing the two words, the four began to carry the corpse as before, but they treated the corpse more politely than the others. It was as if they were handling fragile and explosive dangerous goods.

Regardless of the enemy or ally, the collected corpses were piled up so that they fold over each other.

The military chaplain sprinkled holy water and continued to recite prayer words to prevent the formation of ghouls and skeletons that were prone to appear on the battlefield.

The corpses alone exceeded 1500. Walm was depressed when he thought that some people with serious injuries wouldn't be able to see tomorrow.

The death toll of the Highserk Empire was said to be about 300, which showed the magnitude of the damage they did to the Liberitoa Trade Federation.

The sun was setting and the smoke began to rise from the corpses all at once.

There were also personal portable meals, but it would be for an emergency. Walm didn't want to touch it as long as the distribution continued. Besides, there were a lot of loots that he got today.

Each squad went to have their meals with their own team. Despite the deaths of two people, Duwei squad was provided with wine and ale in addition to foods for the team's excellent results.

No sake is born from nothing.

Walm glared at it and thought it was probably part of the large amounts of supplies left behind in the enemy headquarters.

The Liberitoa Trade Federation might have many weak soldiers, their economic power could be said as excellent. Their land located nearby the sea, mines, labyrinths, and rivers, which was the key to logistics. Thinking that, Walm was frustrated that he must fight with a truly unfair opponent.

Looking away from the extra thoughts, Walm turns his attention to the meal in front of him.

Two hard-baked breads, salted herring and cod, and even sauerkraut.

The best part would be the uncontaminated horse meat, which was made by hanging a fresh horse carcass or a war horse with a broken leg on a tree to drain its blood. Although most of it were muscle meat, it was the highest grade of protein that could be obtained at the forefront, and so there were no soldiers including Walm who disliked it.

Horse meat and potatoes were simmered in the large pot, and even wild grass was included.

The horse meat was full of flavor, and the firm meat was chewy. Include the potatoes that didn't crumble and it would be satisfying to eat.

Walm threw the food into his mouth with all his might.

Some of the soldiers hold their mouths due to unfamiliar death odors and combat. It couldn't be helped as it was their first battle. Seeing that, Walm's once bitter memory rushed through his head.

It was the road that Walm also took. At first, he also felt disgusted to eat meat while surrounded by the scent of death, but the he realized that the more he had a history of battle, the dull his senses would be.

Walm couldn't say for sure whether he was happy as a person or not, but one thing for sure was that as long as he could concentrate on the food in front of him, it was enough to be happy.

"Walm. I heard it. They said you killed 9 enemy soldiers. But, I've killed 15 so I won. But, you've the prospects."

Walm knew who it was without looking back as he could smell alcohol.

Squad Commander Duwei while holding two bottles, put his arm around Walm's neck.

"No, I can't beat you, Commander Duwei."

It was his true feelings. Even though Walm reluctant about it, he was recognized by his peers for his talent for fighting and killing, but still, Squad Commander Duwei was exceptional.

"Come on, drink"

Feeling good, a middle-aged superior poured wine into the cup.

With a bitter smile, Walm raised the cup, and Squad Commander Duwei poured the half-remaining into the cup and drank it all at once.

Walm was impressed with how he drank, but more than that he was worried that the other members wouldn't get their share. So, he turned to the surroundings to check it, and he saw that other members of the squad were also holding a bottle of alcohol.

"Walm, your face looks strange"

Jose sitting on the right was smiling with a beer barrel. It would be hard to see his face in the dark if you didn't squint, as his skin was dark.

Jose, a soldier who had been paired with Walm since he joined the army, he was trusted to secure supplies and information. In short, a reliable person.

His hair was curly. But contrary to his cheerful appearance, he also had a rather harsh side.

"I mean, how could we've that much alcohol..."

"It seems that when one of the enemy commanders was taken prisoner, he had a "magic bag" with him. It was said that there was a lot of booze for victory in it."

"Magic bag", was said as the vital item to the circulation of goods in this world, the one which support logistics. Even though it was about the size of a waist bag, it could hold a lot of supplies, but the amount it could hold were varied. Walm was seeking for this item, but it was too difficult to obtain.

There were two main acquisition routes: you could find it as a relic inside the labyrinths and ruins. Or you could get it from the Aleinard Forest Alliance, where the world tree was located, as a small number of magic bags were created by them

Since Aleinard kept the production method secret, it owned only by aristocrats and large merchants in addition to the army. The one excavated from archaeological sites and labyrinths were said to have a larger capacity.

Jose said that other than those people the ones who might have it were adventurers, who might have many opportunities to acquire it, like from the labyrinths and ruins.

"That's why we should celebrate it. Thank you for the riches of Liberitoa."

Beer was poured this time instead of the wine that he drank earlier. Since there was no ice or refrigerator, it was a normal temperature beer, but Walm continued to drink it and thought that, the unique sweetness, sourness and the bitterness that comes at the end weren't bad.

On the side, there were salted herrings. Because it was salted, it was quite salty, still compared to the sweat that flew out during the battle, it wasn't that. If you had that with beer, it would be just right.

Killing people and celebrating with your comrades on the side of the corpses. A world with different values and laws. In such a world, he had a hard time and suffered, to adapt. Still, he did that, as that was the only way Walm could survive.