They left far different then when they entered. And it wasn’t only the 5 people they had lost during the mission.
What was once used to joke now became sensitive subjects. Malum also noticed that many had trouble sleeping.
The march back was unusually silent although a few continued to make small talk and joke. People handed grief in different ways.
Malum eyes remained stable as he stared at his sword. Up and down, swing after swing. Inside his head the emotion that once clouded his judgment became more stable. Reason had to be above emotion.
He swung harder and harder, blood and bruises brought back the cool head he was always proud of.
He questioned sometimes if it was healthy, sustainable. No was answer, but the other choices could lead to his death and Malum would rather be a heartless lunatic than a dead martyr.
His goal was revenge, and more answers.
For it he needed to stay strong.
His grip remained stable and he continued to swing.
Alicia had long noticed the squads pain. She was sensitive to when those around her were feeling those kind of things. Experience told her some words would do them all well.
The only exception was Gerald. He was pretty insensitive anyway but today he seemed moreso than usually. Unlike everyone else, his eyes were full of happiness. Almost obsession if she was correct. It looked like when her local priest talked about his God, those kind of eyes.
She left him with that, she wasn’t sure at all how to fix whatever issue it was, if it even was an issue in the first place.
Her Husband was perhaps the easiest one to do. Just talking to him tended to brighten his mood. Something she had noticed in her many years of being with him, was that the man hated to be admonished.
She didn’t know exactly why; she had met his family and they seemed fine but Alicia had known enough abused children and their habits to know that Jake had clearly walked out that house with some scars.
Nobody was perfect, and Jake was at least kind and so she took what she could. In the Dao where most wives were abused as much as the children, she had chosen to ensure her safety first. Her mother’s advice was never wrong.
With some kind words, and a hug, Jake was back to his usual self. Next on her list was Jerome.
Jerome personally knew a few of the fallen, she had seen him occasionally speak to them from time to time. Seeing the deaths had weighed him down so much Alicia said some words of assurance.
Alicia saw how Jerome put on a brave face and smiled her away. She knew her job wasn’t done but she also knew that she could no longer be the one to do it.
She looked to the man she knew, Jerome looked up to the most, Malum. The Leader was swinging as always. Although this time blood was slowly falling from the blade. He clearly was far to immersed in his training and hadn’t noticed the damage he was doing.
She rushed up and patted him on the shoulder, he swung around to hit her but managed to stop before he hit her.
Alicia sighed in relief seeing Malum was looking at her realising what he had done.
“Sorry, I was to focused. I nearly hit you, here take a cloth.” Malum reached into one of the pockets his belt had and noticed when he took the cloth out that his hand had already dyed it red.
“See why I stopped you now?” Seeing Malum had noticed the blood, he nodded and thanked Alicia again for stopping him.
He wanted to walk away; Alicia knew this. He was the kind of man who didn’t share at all with others. In fact, he purposely limited his own relationships. Alicia had noticed that habit he had but it was such a rarity she didn’t know why he had picked it up. She could guess but that could do more harm than good.
She pulled him back in and gave the quiet guy a hug. He felt pain, she knew he did, and so she gave him a shoulder to cry on.
Obviously he didn’t cry, it was the dust.
After the hug, she told him to cheer Jerome up. He looked at her with thanks and she thanked him back. Malum had trained her to a level she never thought possible, he was a surprisingly good teacher and he always pushed her to the limits.
He was a lot like her father and he was a man who Alicia had nothing but respect for.
They parted ways, and Alicia soon returned to her tent.
A day or two more of hunting would be in order but with the wave soon so they would have to get in as much experience as possible.
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By the time they returned the third month had begun to count down. 30 days untill the frontlines called and another 10 before their next outing.
A tournament would be held tomorrow, and Malum was looking forward to seeing the advancement of his Troop.
Before all of that, they had death ceremony to do.
Authur, John, Patrick, Edward and Ronny.
Their weapons were first returned and then they were stripped down to their naked bodies. Malum learned that the Troop Leader was actually a priest of the God of Rain and such he had the authority to call upon a Reaper.
Malum had seen the ceremony a few times and it explained the afterlife almost entirely.
The bodies were placed on a wooden alter and after the Priest offered a drop of blood and called upon the Underworld then soon its Reapers would arrive.
These were not Gods, they were soldiers. The Afterlife was written about in many books and his Uncle often spoke of his theories about it.
A different realm, under the Dao, one which mortals and cultivators alike would go to after death.
Black hands appeared from the now burning wood. Orange and black merged as the hands began to cover the bodies and they soon dragged them into their world.
Nobody left the Underworld, so nobody knew truly what it was like there. All that was told in bibles were that it was the place where souls were purged and the clean souls then returned to the Living Realm.
It was strange when Malum first saw it, but now the ceremony was like any other. The reapers were uncanny but repetition brought about normality and everyone got used to it.
Some saw it as a proof of God, same as disaster such as Tsunamis and Hurricanes. As far as Malum was concerned it was as natural as the sun rising. A bit like the marriage ceremony, it was too embedded into culture for anyone to see anything strange about it.
Some legends said about a God of Death but their churches never grew large enough for their stories to become mainstream.
The spectators partied around the pyre in an effort to reenact an old tale. It went that a terrible king had once died and as they sent of the kings body, the party was so enjoyable that the Reapers joined in on the activities. This gave the damned one last day to enjoy their life and it had happened to one of the people least deserving of the gift. At least the tale told of the misery of the reborn king.
Alas the party clearly wasn’t happy enough, Malum watched as the Reapers slowly left. Their boned hands slowly returning to the Realm they belonged to. Perhaps there was more to it, but Malum had neither the strength nor time to care. Life came first, death was for after that.
Another round of tournaments came and went, a strength, endurance and speed test followed. Overall, Malum was still ranked first and the others either increased in rank or remained the same.
It took 3 days for those tests to be completed and after another show of his monster endurance Malums notoriety continued to increase.
Another group of pigs entered the slaughterhouse. The recruits getting their first hell was quite a sight for the Troop to enjoy.
There was not much intermingling of Troops, as far competitions went they didn’t interact at all. It made sense, considering cohesion between the groups but Malum wouldn’t have disliked beating down some newbies to relieve some of his stress.
People had now learned more of the consequences of slacking and so entering the final month everyone began to put in their all. Instructors fully capitalised on this increased motivation and put them to work through all the tortures their minds could think off.
By the time the second hunt came around Malum had seen significant general improvements in the entire group. No longer were people half-arsing their training as they realised the stakes behind their deployment.
That led to far less deaths then the first, only one female was lost to an unfortunate mistake.
Lara.
Her sword was returned and she passed onto the next realm.
After 10 days more of brutal training, Malum had but two single days before him and his Troop were deployed.
They were in the mess hall where they were enjoying the nutrient rich cardboard they were now being force-fed. The taste was best left unmentioned but the effects were profound. Malum felt energised from less sleep and his endless stamina became even more endless.
Malum even questioned if they drugged the food, considering the poor taste of most herbal mixtures and Malum felt he was heading in the right direction.
Nevertheless, he chewed on and chatted with his squad members occasionally. They were talking about the frontlines, and how they thought it would be organised.
“A long wall which we defend. Different troops protect a certain amount of wall and we swap every few hours during a wave.” That was Jake’s rather hopeful theory.
“You think this kingdom could afford walls? What, made of straw? Nah I reckon we hold between certain small mountains and the troops have to swap between each other during a wave.” Gerald opinion was quite the opposite, pessimistic but Malum still reckoned it would be closer to the truth.
They would find out soon enough, after all, they were getting a few more lessons from the Troop Leader himself.
After they ate, they went to exactly one of those. The first of many.
“Alright sit-down soldiers.” That was the first time he ever called them that. He moved swiftly on,
“Today I am chatting to you about your chains of command. So as you have probably learned by now I will be joining you on your march towards hell and for your knowledge I have completed 8 tours of the Northern Front and 3 tours of the Southern Front.
That won’t mean too much to any of you, a tour is known as 6 months on the frontlines and completing two of those gets you enough to leave this godforsaken place. I haven’t, for several reason you will never learn, so do not ask.
I know how to survive, listen to me and you should live. That’s if you don’t make any mistakes in combat. Above me I will be getting orders from some Barron kid but that shouldn’t really do anything as nobody has ordered an advancement into demonic territory for decades.
So, listen to me. I tell you to retreat and you retreat. I tell you to advance and you advance. Got it?”
“Sir, yes Sir.”
He continued on about how the military functioned, and Malum learned more about the Southern front.
“Imagine Hell in Hell. If the Northern front has a survival rate of 2 percent than divide that by ten and you’ve got the Southern one. You won’t be deployed there as you weren’t trained close enough, as long as you don’t sign up to it then you’ll be fine.”
Malum found the stats lining up the number of tours his Troop Leader had been on to the survival rates was revealing as to how qualified he really was. Why he didn’t leave and why he wasn’t some higher-up Malum guessed it had something to do with how frank his Leader was.
In nobility where flowery words were everything Malum could quickly see why his Leader disposition wouldn’t match well.
That was all well and good, but the countdown towards deployment was really getting on Malums nerves. Sleepless nights now became more common and he found his heart beat never calmed down.
Death was really getting on his nerves. The afterlife was supposed to be something 40 or 50 years away where was his wife, his kids, his ambitions.
He could do nothing but breath and train to get his mind off the disturbing thoughts.