“I hope one day, I’ll find the meaning to my struggles.”

- Excerpt from Lieutenant Hans Hoffman’s Journal Entries.

+++

+++ Lieutenant Hans Hoffman +++

Rousselot City

Hans…

Only opened his eyes to see the dark ceiling of his room. His eyes seemed devoid of life, as he lay still on his bed, feeling that oppressive boulder on his chest that constrained his breaths. Of course. Of course, he was back. And he could do nothing about it. He failed.

Again.

He sat up on his bed and lethargically rubbed his eyes to wake himself up.

She died.

He was once again too careless at fighting with her, and prioritized his survival—and in the end, she died right behind him. What foolishness. Hans couldn’t even imagine how disappointed she must have been in her last moments. Perhaps it was why she succumbed so fast to the disease. Why even struggle against it when her subordinate was such a useless dude who drove faster than her Wanderadler’s top speeds during the chase?

He touched his neck a bit, almost subconsciously. That certainly was something. Being decapitated while grieving his dead comrade on the muddy fields.

“What now?” Hans asked himself, as he looked at the floor of his room, the faint moonlight shining through his windows.

“What now?” He asked again.

He looked around and fumbled on his table for his glasses.

Placing it on his eyes, he opened his room’s door and shambled out of the hallways.

He needed some water to clear his mind.

Suddenly, one of the rooms opened, and out came Adelyn. Hans could only look at her, remembering that rage-fueled eyes and bloody face that she had when she attacked him. Now…there was once again none of that. Instead of disease-fueled hate, all he could see was concern for him.

“You're still awake, Captain?” Hans asked, and Adelyn nodded.

“I can say the same about you,” she crossed her arms. “Lieutenant, are you alright?”

Hans waved it off. “I’m fine. Just a little thirsty, is all.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me,” Adelyn retorted. “Bad dreams?”

He looked back at that entire chase. How they ran out of munitions as it reached them. How that flying scalpel skewered Adelyn's vehicle. Those undead creatures who looked like the literal product of hell. How Adelyn turned into one of them and how she bit through his shoulder—the raw feeling of her teeth sinking through his flesh still seared to his shoulder’s nerves. And of course, being decapitated by a saber…

“Just a mild one,” Hans chuckled weakly. “Nothing much, really.”

“You say that, but you look like you’ve gone through hell and back, Lieutenant.”

“Probably just lack of sleep.”

“Exactly. You’re barely sleeping well,” Adelyn walked forward and began checking Hans’ eyes with her fingers. Hans shifted backward, but she held him firmly as if she was a doctor checking on him.

“Deep eye bags, dilated pupils…you don't even seem to be looking at me. Like you’re not even looking at anything. Can you even tell me where you are, Lieutenant? Or are you stuck in your mind?”

He pushed her hand off. “Look, I’m fine. As I’ve said, I just need water.”

“...You’re not fine,” Adelyn said as she retracted her hand and looked down. “But, alright. Go downstairs. The water I treated is still there.”

Hans nodded. “Thank you.”

“Please…get better, Lieutenant,” Adelyn softly said. “If you need help, I’m here. Or you can ask Father Olbrich. Anyone. Don’t take this all alone. It’ll just affect you when you’re in the fields. Okay?”

“Okay…okay,” Hans this time tried to laugh her off. “Look, you’re being such a worrywart.”

She crossed her arms. “Let me try visualizing this for you in a way you’ll understand since you like practicality first and foremost. You, the better one at fighting, and the only fellow Lotharingian with me, and thus the one I can rely on the most in this world, would suddenly come out of his room looking like he’s about to beat himself up after the worst nightmare he saw. And he keeps telling me that he’s absolutely fine. Now, should I believe that, or should I be very concerned for my only Lotharingian partner in this world?”

Okay…she does have a point when she puts it that way.

Her stern expression then turned softer. “Of course, there’s more to that, but…that’s what you’ll digest most easily.”

“Alright, alright, look, I’m not stupid, I get it. You need me at my best combat abilities,” Hans replied. “I’ll manage this. And if I can’t, that’s when I’ll say so. For now, I think you should go back to sleep. We have a lot of intel gathering to do tomorrow.”

Adelyn merely nodded, seemingly defeated at getting Hans to open up. “Have a good evening then, Lieutenant. Or at least, half of the evening.”

Hans chuckled. “You too. Thanks.”

As he descended down on the stairs, Hans momentarily stopped until he heard her close her door. Briefly…he wondered in vain that she knew until it was crushed.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

No, he was alone in this.

As always…it’s only me who remembers.

+++

Rousselot City

JUN 22, 1538 CE

“It’s three Imperial Marks sire,” The shopkeeper said. “I cannot lower it further. Why are you even haggling for such a prized book? Knowledge has no price, sire.”

Hans stammered. “Well, you know how it is these days, gold is short,” not that he was sure if he was being robbed here. Quite frankly, since he wore what was straight up a foreigner’s apparel (and a well-maintained one at that), it meant that he looked very robbable. Quite frankly, he didn’t really trust this guy, considering that last time, he bought a five hundred gram bread for one Imperial Mark, meanwhile, the townsfolk bought it for around twelve “Light Marks”, the silver version of his Imperial Mark, and all he knew was that a hundred light marks were equivalent to one Imperial Mark.

So…goddess damn it, he was definitely being robbed here. He didn’t really want to waste too much of their money, as the deal only gave them two hundred Imperial Mark, with the rest of the payment locked until they killed the ‘Rodent of Pestilence’ (which meant they were now technically a very expensive mercenary unit), and Adelyn only gave him twenty Imperial Marks to run around and buy books with.

But…

“Alright, fine…” He gave it up, and the shopkeeper happily gave him the book.

He soon left the bookshop and emerged in the streets of Rousselot. As usual, it seemed busy, and Hans could see many of the city folks lined up to a bunch of priests and priestesses conducting magical examinations in the distance. From what he knew, priests of this world doubled as medical workers with their “blessing”, and thus, they have been assigned to frontline duty to check for the “curse” in this city. Especially with all the refugees coming in.

He began walking in the other direction, planning to return to the St. Heka church to resume his research and planning. He needed a concrete plan on how to deal with that thing without endangering the 4th and Adelyn. Luckily, he had seven days since the monster was spotted on June 28. Quite funny that these people used the same Flandrian Calendar that Terra used, but he didn’t question it any further.

He had too much crap to deal with.

He continued walking through the dense street until he came across someone. Just in another lane, was a middle-aged woman surrounded by three musketeers. She had brown hair, a black cloak that seemed to have the insignia of Rousselot on it, and of course…she had horns. A Vanus. Strangely enough though, unlike Alizée, she had none of those knife-like ears. She seemed to be talking to some children, smiling at them, before giving them a few coins. The group of children ran away, as she stood up, seemingly conversing with the musketeers guarding her.

In the last loop, she apparently had no time to deal with us. Hans never actually saw her in his last life. All he knew was that she approved the hiring of them for the expedition. Well, he supposed he had more pressing issues to deal with, considering the crisis and the fact that she was a Vanus trying to hold on to her rule while being under the anti-Vanus Holy Empire.

Hans began walking away, trying not to attract attention, but of course—

“Are you the foreigner we hired?”

Hans slowly turned to his back.

How the hell did she cross that in seconds…? Magic. Definitely magic.

Okay…so how am I supposed to address this?

“I’m Lieutenant Hans Hoffman, Ma’am,” Hans awkwardly replied. “Glad to see you. I’ve heard you're a…well, a just ruler.”

She didn’t have much of a reaction to that. “I suppose Father Olbrich still talks about me with positivity then. I should say, you and your partner have a massive task ahead of you.” She looked at Hans’ pistol holster. “I’ve heard your weapons are quite the new ones.”

“Yeah…it’s from my country, Lotharingia. It’s, well, I should say, more advanced than what’s in here.”

She nodded. “Interesting. Carry on then. May you two and the 4th succeed. I expect results, Lieutenant.”

Hans gulped and nodded. Damn, the way she spoke certainly was scary. She had that air of noble authority in her and all.

Soon, she turned, alongside her guards. Hans breathed out deeply. She almost reminded him of Captain Victoria with the way she spoke. Quite frankly, Hans never had the best experiences with noblewomen who really pressed their authority on his arse. Didn’t help that she sent 1st Platoon so much crap.

Well, guess that’s that then. Finally saw the lady who wants us to kill that thing. He sighed. I swear, they can turn scary in a split second.

+++

Hans was reading deliriously.

Quite frankly, he still had a tower of books he needed to skim through on his side of the table. More than that, right now, he was skimming through the reports that the city recorded about the attacks of the ‘Rodent of Pestilence’ for the past two months. Where it started, what village it first attacked, and how it was being fought.

Apparently, a total of six hundred men had already been lost in the fight against it. That was certainly a lot. The main problem that the County of Rousselot faced was the fact that it had no support from the Imperial Ygeia Company outside of Rousselot City itself (where they sent a few Frigates apparently to show their ‘support’). The task of defending the county thus fell to the Imperial Garrison in the county, which was Captain Strobel’s unit, the 4th Holy Ygeia Regiment.

Second, they needed to garrison the exit routes from the County to prevent the spread outside of it (though, he seriously doubted that it hadn’t reached other areas of the Principality already), which meant that right now, the 4th only had at most eleven or twelve hundred men at their disposal for the expedition.

In the last loop, they didn’t go full-in, as only two companies were musterable in time, but this time, Hans had foresight. If he could get the two full battalions (or four) of the 4th on the move a day ahead (thus, no rain), and mobilize all of their sixteen “minion” horse artillery into the right positioning, Adelyn and Hans could reasonably expect a good battle.

Last battle, he knew that they almost took it down. Quite frankly, he was sure that even if they died, he had already injured it enough that they would have killed it with the cannonade. The bad part was, they blundered hard. They used up a lot of their munitions fighting the undead, all while wasting time. Second of all, Hans and Adelyn had to be chased right after it rained hard.

…Quite frankly, realizing all that, the amount of munitions they expended on the chase alone would have doomed them already long-term even if they had survived it. He was down to six APFSDS by the time he left his Wanderfalke to save Adelyn. Their role should be takedown, fast recon, and bait. Not be the main fighting force and waste all of their munitions for a job that cannonballs could do.

The question now was…how would Hans deal with it with this knowledge in mind?

Something distracted him. It was Alizée, and she was carrying what appeared to be a book. She walked to Hans’ chair and cutely presented it to him.

“This book…Sir Hans…” she tried squeaking it out. “Lady Adelyn seed…um…”

Oh, she’s trying to speak continental…

He seriously wondered how this girl’s parents isolated her so hard that she struggled to speak nor understand the most common language of her land. He simply gave her a pat and took it from her. Quite frankly, he really hoped that their stay here would at least give her some education to speak Lotharingian…or, err…“continental”. She apparently was well-spoken in Vanus, according to Father Olbrich, so it wasn’t like she was uneducated or stupid.

She just couldn’t speak this land’s peasant language.

“Thank you.”

Well, come on, he only knew a few words in her language from his brief readings. Okay, he did know other words considering Vanus seemed similar to Flandrian.

Unfortunately, all those were profanities.