“Yes, well, if you’ll be excusing me,” I said, jogging off with what I hoped looked like a controlled gait.

In reality, I wanted nothing more than to step away from the carnage. I felt light tremors beginning to slowly travel through me, but I ground my teeth and clenched my fists, trying to force them to stop.

More faces to appear in the night.

Killing was never easy; it shouldn’t be lest we become a person who kills in reflex, something I’d done once more.

But…

I’d never experienced it to the scale of today. Never more than a few handfuls of people at most.

How many had died by my hand today? Dozens? Over a hundred? I’d had a job, and I knew what I had to do, so I’d let that resolve me as I waded into battle.

But it had been so…. Easy. Never had I slain so many who felt so defenseless. Typically, my foes were all more than capable in their own rights.

What I’d done today, that had been a slaughter. Less than one percent of ordinary men and women could use magic. It hadn’t stopped me from watering the field with their blood.

What have I done?

The tremors grew stronger, so I continued away from the battle scene, marching off into the lonely darkness of the trees, doing my best to blind myself to my senses as I sat beneath a rather ancient-looking pine.

War is war.

I reminded myself of the simple fact as I remained seated, more curled up than anything, beneath the tree.

If I had to do it again, I would, but that wasn’t what I feared. I feared becoming nothing more than a taker of lives.

Get a hold of yourself, Rook.

I slowed my breathing, the trembling subsiding.

No. Even if it was distasteful, I would do what I had to. War didn’t care who it took, and it didn’t matter how important or insignificant you were, who you knew or were related to. Death came for us all. I was just the one who had been the hastener of it.

After another deep breath, I felt almost back to normal again.

I wasn’t the only one who’d been forced to take lives today, either. I’d seen the blackened field and charred remains, the burning mana still lingering, barely perceptible over the violent mana released in the final death throes of hundreds, thousands, of soldiers meeting their untimely end.

That was another reason I’d felt so destabilized. The violently dark mana that now clung to the area like a toxic smog would take time to clear, if ever. Death was never a great or efficient way to gather mana, but that changed when hundreds and thousands died all around each other, filled with terror and agony. It tended to leave a blackened scar, a blight upon a place. I’d seen it before, only a few weeks back.

When a bunch of children were murdered.

If I felt myself wavering at any point, that singular reason hardened my will once more. Standing up, I brushed myself off, a hint of nostalgia flowing through me as I inspected a pine needle that had fallen upon my shoulder as I sat against the tree.

I was a kid again, tired from swinging my sword. I sat resting in the shade of the nearby pines. The cool breeze would waft the smell of the pine forest through the air much more strongly, and I’d sometimes wake up hours later after falling asleep to the comforting chill.

But I wasn’t a kid anymore. That had been stolen from me when the Sage Above All had decided she’d prefer to be reborn in our era, hijack the body of a friend I couldn’t recall the face or name of anymore, and lead my life down this path.

Would I have preferred that nothing changed?

As a kid, the thought of adventure, of exploring the world and places I hadn’t seen, had been tantalizing. I’d once wanted to join the guard of Theronhold simply so I could go anywhere other than Junaper.

Something like nine years later, and I could only shake my head.

How naïve I was.

Leaving the comforting shadows of the pine forest behind as I made my way toward the clearing where the encampment was situated, I noticed Danai in what appeared to be an argument with several soldiers I did not recognize.

“Is something wrong?” I questioned as I jogged up to them.

“Uhh, not exactly, um, Sir?”

The young woman clearly didn’t know who I was. Still, at the very least, she’d somehow gotten the impression that I was something akin to a ranking officer, given her deferment to me.

“Rules of war.” Danai sighed as she turned toward me. “We’re discussing how to best handle our prisoners.”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded, no idea what she was talking about.

Danai wasn’t fooled as she crossed her arms, sighing again.

“Rules of war state prisoners should be treated with respect and accommodations. Except-”

“Except they’re nearly as many prisoners as our own troops,” I noted. “And given we’re currently traveling north, we don’t have anywhere to keep them.”

“Furthermore.” Danai nodded. “If we release them, there is a real chance they strike at us from behind.”

“I’m not sure I’d be too worried about that,” I said. “I removed the element that allowed them the sneak attack in the first place.”

“Be that as it may.” Danai gestured around vaguely. “That’s still a lot of soldiers, even if they’re not sneaking up on us.”

“Permission to speak?” One of the soldiers suddenly questioned.

Danai glanced at me before shrugging. “Granted.”

“As I mentioned earlier, couldn’t we simply execute them?”

Danai’s face turned hard as stone as she pinched the bridge of her nose, almost universally recognized as an attempt at quelling her frustration.

“No, we will do no such thing.” Danai finally announced, voice cold as ice. “And if I hear the suggestion again, I will have whoever offered it stripped of whatever rank they may hold and publicly flogged. So, until anyone comes up with better suggestions, you may leave as I discuss this issue with those of enough brains to qualify for the privilege of speaking.”

The gathered soldiers paled instantly, throwing up salutes before marching off to do whatever busy work they could.

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Perhaps, but they need to have it drilled in them from the very beginning that we are not savages or invading barbarians who will do as we please with those we capture or such.”

“So then, what do you believe we should do?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Danai grumbled. “In truth, we didn’t anticipate coming into conflict with such a large force before reaching Theronhold itself. At best, we thought we’d encounter small scouting parties probing the southward route.”

“We can’t just send them somewhere else?” I questioned.

“Where?” She snorted. “The north, aside from Theronhold, has almost no city larger than ten thousand people. Most are nothing more than glorified hamlets. The closest location that could house two thousand prisoners of war is Dunehold, and that’s nearly a three-week march from our rough location.”

I winced. I could understand why Danai found herself in such a tricky situation.

I can also understand why some might find it easier to simply execute the prisoners.

“Couldn’t we just, I don’t know, bring them with us?” I threw out the option without any real thought.

“No, if we did that, I-” Danai suddenly stopped, frowning slightly. “Hmm.”

“What?” I questioned.

“On second thought.” She seemed to be mulling something over before shrugging. “It’s that it’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today.”

“Wait, it’s not?” I was taken aback, surprised anything I had to offer would prove helpful.

“Perhaps.” Danai looked around, searching. “Have you seen either Dirk or any of the others, aside from Rorak?”

“I saw Dirk, yes,” I answered, not missing that only Rorak was apparently left out from consideration.

“Well, I would like to discuss the option with Dirk. The suggestion has some issues, particularly how we plan to feed that many prisoners. Still, there are some potential benefits from it as well.”

“Like?” I asked, having given my own idea zero further thought.

“Our imagery specifically,” Danai said. “Consider, earlier, why I refused the option of execution, what the precedent it would set, what happens to the public opinion if it gets out we executed two thousand surrendered prisoners?”

“We’d be monsters.”

“Exactly, plus two thousand prisoners being told they’re going to be executed is likely to be two thousand prisoners planning to rise up.”

“So, by bringing them with us north?”

“We showcase that we are not monsters, that we are not their enemies, and that we are fair. With those in our back pocket, it makes the prospect of taking Theronhold that much easier.”

“So the potential benefit will outweigh the risk of bringing the prisoners along?”

“It’s either that, or we do execute the prisoners, and I would prefer to avoid that possibility.”

I felt a wave of revulsion pass through me at the thought of murdering so many. It was one thing to do it during the heat of battle, but to kill so many in cold blood…

“Yeah, if we can avoid killing them, that would be for the best,” I answered with a heavy sigh.

“I believe I will track down Dirk and the commanding officer of this brigade then. We have things to discuss.”

“Well, good luck with that.” I was ready to waltz off when she coughed loudly enough that I knew she was calling me back.

“Uh, or not?” I asked, uncertain.

“Why don’t you go and make yourself known to the troops? Most don’t know who you are, as we saw earlier.”

“Ahh, right, that.” I thought of the young woman from earlier who’d mistaken me for some sort of commanding officer.

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I wasn’t particularly interested in intermingling. In fact, I wanted to do anything other than that, but one glance from the woman made me change my mind.

“I guess I’ll do that. Uhh, where should I go?”

“Try the rations tent.” She pointed at an oversized tent near the center of the encampment. “Grab some food, maybe spend time talking to the men and women there. Be recognized, and share a few laughs. It helps with morale as well.”

“Thanks.” I waved to the woman as I walked away, mulling over my thoughts.

Share a few laughs. Not sure I can do that.

I felt as broody as one of my teenage students, except unlike my students, my problems were quite a bit more substantial.

My former students, I had to remind myself.

I wonder what they’re up to?

As far as I knew, only two of my students had survived the slaughter of the Parisian. Mona, who’d been with me during the initial assault on the academy, and Leo, who now was plotting my demise.

Mona is probably in a secure location under constant protection.

If she continued honing her magical capabilities, the girl would be more than capable in short order. However, she still lacked real-world experience.

I froze where I was, a new thought occurring to me.

What happens if we win?

If Nochesuki succeeded in partnership with the forces of Dunehold, the crown and its supporters would be cast down. The king would likely be executed to prevent future uprisings to reinstate the ‘proper’ ruler.

So what about Mona? Would they come for her head as well?

No. I shook my head vigorously at the prospect. I’d failed the rest of my students; let them be lambs to the slaughter. While I may be on the side of those looking to cast down the old regime, if they ever attempted to make an example out of the girl, I’d move heaven and earth to protect her.

I won’t fail any more students.

Resolutely, I continued toward the rations tent. Forcing something akin to a smile on my face, I cast aside the front flap as I strode in.

It was somewhat predictable in appearance. There was a makeshift kitchen, several rather dangerous-looking cooks sweating in the heat of their enclave. Aside from the cooks, there were rows of tables, soldiers already chowing down shortly after the battle had been won.

I can understand that. Fighting makes me ravenous.

The only reason I wasn’t feeling the hunger now was the distasteful nature of what I’d done left my stomach curled up in a cold ball.

I made my way toward the cooks with their pots and pans, trying my best to look, if not inviting, at least not threatening.

“Huh. Not sure I recognize you.” A large cook wielding a ladle drawled, his thick mustache looking like an oversized caterpillar. “Which means you must be one of our saviors, eh?”

“Baster. Rook Baster.” I nodded toward him as cordially as I could. “We happened to make it in time.”

“Baster, eh?” The man seemed to mull over the thought before smiling wildly. “That’s a name I hear whispered ‘bout. For the crown, it’s a cursed name, ‘ya see. That’s how you go straight to the gallows. Here though? That be a rather right name to find amongst us.”

“Well, I appreciate the, err, reception?” I wasn’t sure exactly what to call it.

“That also must make you the Steel Shadow. Heard you did a number out there on ‘em.”

“The what now?” I felt my eyebrows rising of their own accord as I questioned the man.

“Hah, a show like that inspires theatrics. Apparently, they said you were moving through the crown forces like a living shadow, sharp as steel and just as deadly.”

“I think I’d prefer to stop acquiring epitaphs.” I sighed, much to the amusement of the large cook.

“Ahh yes, Zero, Flowing Blade, the Butcher of Akadia.”

I winced at the last name, another one I hadn’t heard. For my own good, I simply told myself it referred to what I’d done to the hired mercenaries and not that I was being mistaken as the butcher of children.

I’m sure some believe that, but at the very least, I’d hope my ‘allies’ aren’t celebrating the idea that they have a child murderer amongst them.

“So, what can I get ya’ Steel?”

I inwardly groaned, but I pretended as if I heard nothing special.

“I’ll take whatever it is that everyone else here gets.”

“Bah.” The large cook shook his head. “That grub is for the rest of this lousy lot.” He grunted, jutting his chin out as if he dared any nearby soldiers to argue. “You’re something like a hero. Can’t have you eating like the rest of these grubs.”

Hero.

“Hero is a bit… strong of a word,” I muttered.

“True.” The man smiled, misunderstanding what I meant. “To the crown, you’re anything but a hero. Perhaps champion of the people would be better.”

It’s not much better, but it’s acceptable.

“That’s… acceptable.” I sighed. I knew better than to argue with the man overseeing the food. “Just some soup and bread is fine.”

“If you insist.” The man thrust his ladle into a pot, spooning a heaping helping of… something before topping it off with a piece of well-toasted bread. Before handing me the bowl, the man thrust out his big, meaty hand.

“Ross, by the way.” The cook grinned at me, revealing two missing teeth replaced by bronze lookalikes. “Head chef of this fine establishment.”

“Nice to meet you, Ross,” I replied, genuinely meaning it as well. Perhaps the man was a little fonder of me than I would have preferred, but I would take that over disdain or anger. Taking the bowl, I made my way through the tent, doing my best to avoid looks as I found a relatively empty table. I sat in the far corner, spooning the strange slop into my mouth.

Huh. I stopped for a moment after the first spoonful. That’s better than I would have expected.

As if opening the floodgates, my stomach began to rumble. Without another thought, I started to wolf down the mush, ravenously hungry. While I could go for extended periods without food or drink with my enhanced body, combat still brought on the usual hunger pains.

Tearing into my loaf of bread, I absentmindedly noticed as several figures approached where I was seated, standing off to the side as I ate.

This better be good.

Ignoring them for another minute or two while I finished, I finally turned to examine my visitors.

“Can I help you?” I questioned the four figures, two men and two women.

“Err, sorry if this comes off as strange.” The largest of the four, a man whose shoulders looked wide enough to build a house on, shifted nervously.

“Cut to the chase Frod.” A woman with jet black hair, the sides shaved so that I was reminded of a horse’s mane, rolled her eyes at the large man.

“We were wondering if we could get you to sign something for us.” The large man, Frod, asked.

“Sign something?” I scrunched my eyebrows together. “Like… a petition?”

It seemed a bit strange to ask me such a thing out of the blue or why there was a petition for something being held in a military encampment, but-

“No, like, we want your autograph.” The large man corrected.

Wait… what?

I glanced around on the off chance I was being mistaken with someone else, but no one else was nearby.

“Me?” I questioned, just to be sure.

“Yes, sir.” Frod nodded.

Sir?

As I looked closer at the large man, I realized he was younger than I initially assumed. In fact, glancing around, everyone in the rations tent looked younger than I had initially assumed.

Most of them are little better than teenagers.

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, I figured they made up probably seventy percent of all the soldiers, a shocking degree of youth.

We’re sending kids off to die.

The thought unsettled me, but I didn’t let it show across my face. Instead, I did my best to look like I wasn’t struggling with even more unease at this entire ‘war’ business.

“I saw you duel in Akadia.” The large man, kid, said. “I was sailing through the area when I found myself there for the day. I managed to slip my way into the arena for it. Of course, I didn’t realize who you were then, but with what came out since, well, I became a fan.”

“I’ve been a fan since your adventuring days.” The second woman, rather, the girl, spoke up, her hair chopped short to just below her ears. “I was only ten after you cleared that dungeon! I used to be a fan of Iris, but well.”

Yikes.

I bit back any comment and instead faked a smile.

That was seven years ago.

The girl had to be seventeen or eighteen at the oldest.

“I’ve always admired the Basters.” The second man said. His wiry build looked like he would spring about with only a light push. “Your family has been responsible for helping people worldwide against their oppressors for hundreds of years now.”

“Hah, you may know more about them than I.” Without thinking, I let out a biting laugh. Thankfully, the four didn’t seem to notice the bitter tone of my laugh. Producing a small sheet of paper and a dark pen, the largest of the group passed them to me.

Never signed an autograph before.

When I was young, I’d heard of the most well-known adventurers having fanbases. Still, I’d only just started reaching the point where my name was known by the common folk when I’d abruptly left it all behind.

Staring at the paper for several seconds, I faced a new dilemma.

How do you do an autograph?

Was I just supposed to sign my name? Or was I meant to add some extra flourish? Or perhaps even write a message? The entire idea seemed strange and alien to me. Not long ago, I had just been a teacher grading papers. Now I was eating strange slop in the middle of a military encampment as soldiers who looked little older than my old students asked for my autograph.

Life comes at you fast.

Mentally shrugging it off, I signed it normally, adding a single extra flourish as a final touch beneath my name.

“Thanks!” Frod was all smiles as he held the sheet like some family heirloom.

For a moment, I thought I was done until the other three also produced things for me to sign, the wiry-looking man handing over what was clearly a napkin. Sighing, I scratched my name with the simple flourish on all three of their scraps of paper. Obviously satisfied, the four thanked me for several minutes before chatting as they scurried to do who knew what.

I don’t like it.

The entire thing left me uneasy. I was just me. Not just that, but the fact that they were so young.

Not like there is much I do seem to like recently.

Laughing at the bitter pill I’d just swallowed, I stood up, quickly leaving the rations tent before anyone else could ask me anything.

Will I like anything ever again?

----------------------------------------------------

“Go over the plan once more, for those of us who weren’t here to hear it, if you will.” Dirk motioned for Danai to speak.

“As many of you know, we have a prisoner problem.”

Several officers gathered within the command tent grumbled in agreement, the issue troubling the officers for the last two days.

“We have a potential solution, one that some may not appreciate, but a solution that provides an elegant answer while offering several challenges along the way.” Danai glanced around the room, making sure everyone was paying attention. I wasn’t really sure why I was here as well, I wasn’t precisely a leadership figure, but I guess I was sort of the one who came up with the plan.

“To cut to the chase, we bring our prisoners north until we reach Theronhold. Once there, we will release the soldiers to the city. From what we’ve gathered, many of the soldiers originally were moved out from Theronhold in the first place.”

“And how exactly are we expected to feed that many prisoners on our way north? Our food reserves are meant to comfortably see us to the north and remain camped outside the city for a prolonged period. If we have two thousand extra mouths to feed, our comfortable reserves will be cut down to barely adequate, at best.”

“Yes, an understandable concern,” Danai answered with endless patience. “Which is why we will use them to help gather food.”

“And how are they expected to help in that regard?”

“They know the land better than we do,” Danai said. “We have them assist in either hunting or gathering from edible vegetation. While not enough to compensate for the loss, it should be enough to see us reach Theronhold without starving ourselves.”

“And what’s to say they don’t turn on us?” The same officer questioned.

“We have an icon, a symbol of power which they are unlikely to risk defying.”

“Huh?” The man seemed taken aback by the response.

“Yes, our ally here, Rook Baster.” She waved toward me, much to my surprise.

Oh. That’s why they wanted me here as well.

“By now, the tales of what he did during the battle will have spread and likely been even further embellished. The existence of a figure such as he will suppress any potential brewing of rebellion. Furthermore, being told that we are escorting them back to Theronhold in one piece will eliminate any desire to resist. No need to risk getting themselves all killed when they’re being brought back to their homes in the first place.”

They’ve obviously put more thought into my plan than I did.

“Also, as you should all be aware, we have a second battlegroup on their way north to join us, and bringing these prisoners along will help mask our approaching allies, as attention and spies remain focused on our sizable group instead.”

I didn’t know we had reinforcements coming.

Rather than say as much, I simply nodded as I saw others in the tent do as well.

I’m unsure whether I missed that briefing or if they simply opted not to tell me.

I remained quiet as Danai continued.

“We bring the prisoners north; we accept it will dig into our food supplies, but we shore them up as much as we can with the assistance of our prisoners. In return, we mask the movement of our reinforcements while also showcasing goodwill and humanity to our northern brethren. Tied together, it will make pushing for their surrender much easier.”

“Speaking of our goals in the north.” I was beginning to recognize the voice of the officer who seemed to make it a point of being a troublesome ass. “We understand that the higher-ups are the ones who considered this a worthwhile endeavor, but as the soldiers carrying out this operation, would it not be wise to inform all of us how exactly we are expected to conquer the Iron Fortress itself?”

Iron Fortress? That’s a stupid name; the walls are stone.

“In fact, we do not need to explain the details.” Danai snapped with a professional quality. “All you need to understand is that we have the matter in control, aided by trustworthy allies.”

I felt several glances cast in my direction, but I kept my eyes forward.

Clever. Cast a doubting shadow on those who present themselves as obstacles so that others are unlikely to band together in voicing their doubts while also suggesting it as an already solved problem.

Of course, it wasn’t a solved problem, but that was also a problem for a different day.

“Are there any questions?” Dirk stepped forward now that Danai had finished speaking. Even though we weren’t a part of their direct command, he’d still found himself as the leading voice, the commanding officer of the regiment apparently more than happy to defer to the older, more veteran man.

When no one spoke up, he slammed a heavy fist down upon the table where we were seated.

“Then the matter is settled. We shall bring the prisoners north with us. Then comes our main prerogative, taking the Walled City so that our brothers in arms stationed in the south and all around the country can focus their fight without the threat of northern reinforcements.”

“I have a question.” I raised my hand, earning another round of looks from around the table.

“Yes, Baster?”

“When will we return to traveling north?”

“Good question.” Dirk nodded, thoughtful for a moment. “Today. After lunch rations are had, we will order the camp’s dismantling, and then we shall begin our way north immediately. With fortune on our side, Theronhold should be a two-week march at this rate.”

Two weeks.

I nodded, making it known that I hadn’t missed anything. Dirk began to dismiss officers from the tent, but I remained seated, mulling over my thoughts.

Two weeks.

Theronhold, not counting my home, had been where my adventure had essentially begun. There was a heavy feeling of lost innocence as I thought of the city, but there was also a sort of…

Pride?

It was strange to feel pride at the thought of returning to Theronhold, but pride was what I felt, nonetheless. The last time I’d been there, I’d been a magicless boy who only knew the world as far as the forest near his village.

And now you’re leading an assaulting force against that same city.

I snorted to myself, amused in a mirthless sort of way.

Life comes at you fast.