Sitting on the ground and shivering from the cold, Robert took another sip from his metal cup. The hot coffee rushed inside his throat, bringing an enormous pleasure. Despite being made right in the pot inside the field kitchen, it had a wonderful mixture of sour and bitter taste. Of course, the reason for such delight could be the contrast of temperatures, when such godly liquid could warm up his freezing body. Or it could be the result of a long period on the cursed island with salty water as a single option to drink after months of absence in the sword-and-magics realm. Or everything might be simpler as it could natural reaction to a favorite drink.
Nevertheless, whatever the real reason was, Rob indeed enjoyed the moment. It could be even better if the scene before his eyes was not the same trench, in which he spent most of his time in this world. Obviously, it wasn’t exactly the same place, where he met his first battle. No, it was one behind it as the old one was too devastated after the shelling, while beastmen didn’t give an opportunity to rebuild it back.
That battle ended with most company dead. To Robert’s surprise, only he, the lieutenant, and the avenger from the truck managed to live through the whole bloody ordeal in one piece without any serious wounds. Dozen's other survivors were not so lucky, getting injured to a different degree. Moreover, such a picture was on the whole line, affecting the full five companies that were hastily sent after the dirigible’s strike. Unfortunately, Rob had only a few days in the clinic before he was sent back with the reinforcements. That damned dwarf officer kept his word to fulness, not giving Robert any opportunity to slack off. He might be wrong in this assumption, as the other two were also attached to different companies at the same time, but it still felt bad not to have a break. At least he got his second night with Beth.
Four months had passed after that. The rainy season brought constant mud, wet clothes, and suffering. Not having the ability to wash themselves, soldiers spent days in such harsh conditions. Quite a few felt ill. One even had to be hospitalized, coughing with blood. Dirt was everywhere, changing the state from wet to completely dry on rare occasions when the sun wanted to show its existence. During this period Robert used a shovel and bracket a hundred times more often than his rifle. The slippery surface made it hard to run, slowing down any assault to the point of turning them into perfect targets. And of course, Rob’s commanders thought it wasn’t a big problem, sending them in a few frontal attacks.
The experience of running through the muddy field under the constant fire from the enemy was imprinted forever in his mind. Moreover, each of them had ended with zero results in the end. Several times they had to retreat, not even making it to the beastman’s defense line. And when they did, they still had to go back as by the point when they cleared the trench, they were targeted by artillery and didn’t have enough strength to hold it against incoming reinforcements. Thus, all such assaults looked absolutely pointless for both sides, but they kept doing them with the stubbornness of the donkey.
Obviously, nobody asked Robert’s opinion and he had to follow the orders. He once again returned to the state of one of the soldiers, who was a part of the war machine but didn’t have any say in it. The short break during his stay on the island had ended, bringing everything back to where it was. It was like a mockery for Rob. Despite all his efforts to enjoy his life, only his perspective of things had changed, but not the world itself.
Coffee, porridge from vegetables, and night sky… Even the cold is something new after an eternal heat.
Smiling to himself, Rob made another sip from the cup. He indeed started to see happiness in small things. The meat diet made even awful-looking results of cooking tasty if it was not meant to be a protein source. Such appetite led to stupid jokes from other soldiers. They didn’t address him anything other than Ogre, but Robert didn’t mind it. His life wasn’t what he wished for in the slightest. It wasn’t even good, was dangerous and filled with permanent horror. Still, he somehow adapted to it, focusing on the bright side, no matter how small it was.
If I had any choice. Either that or a mental hospital… They do have them here.
His increased regeneration at some point stabilized its level, making only the wounds heal faster and stop bothering him with long nails and hair, adjusting the speed of growth to what was before the “upgrade”. The mud changed his length of beard to a short version, while his head was still bald, constantly being shaved by a steel conjuring. However, the incoming winter made Robert think it over once again as it was just too cold, not to use additional insulation means. The snow had already covered their position, hiding multiple craters from shelling.
You can almost forget that you are on the war…
The silence of the night covered the surroundings. Most of the soldiers were already sleeping inside the covers, leaving only guards to be awake. The rare gusts of wind were going somewhere above the head, pushing small snowflakes into the air. The dance of the latter didn’t last long, but they still managed to capture the light from the huge yellow moon, making their short show mesmerizing. The scene was as simple as it could be – just ground covered with snow and the sky, but nevertheless, it made Robert to be charmed by it. Maybe it was whole calm atmosphere, which he lacked strongly in his life. Or the fact that it was his first snow in the System knows how long.
Stolen novel; please report.
The exploding flare lightened up the surroundings, instantly breaking the immersion. A moment later he heard the loud “Clear” before the sentinels went silent again. Rob sighed and made a last sip from the cup, before putting it down. Taking off his glove, he conjured a small coin, creating a big letter “A” on both of its sides. Quickly moving it over his fingers, he paused for a moment, so the external observer, if there was one, could notice the “B”, and continued his action. The image was constantly changing, going from letters to numbers and back.
It was the latest exercise that Robert had made for himself to keep improving his conjuring skills. The speed, the precision, and the hardness of visibly easy tasks made him sweat at the beginning. The need to keep physical contact with moving a small object, simultaneously adding a change to its surface, had put him to the test. However, the practice, as always, was the answer in such cases. It didn’t have any dramatic impact on his ability to create a shield or sword but still helped to make his conjuring ability more responsive to his wishes.
Another effect of it was the title of Magician from fellow soldiers. Absolutely sure that he was in the circus before the army, they often asked him to show a few tricks, despite seeing most of them multiple times. Quite a few of his comrades tried to find out how he was doing it, not believing in his honest answer about magic. One even tried to trade a full flask with alcohol for that, which was worth a lot in the fields. The lieutenant had to intervene at some point, driving away all curious soldiers… and confiscating the liquid of discord for himself.
“But seriously, Rob, how are doing it? No, stop, don’t answer me. Your tricks will lose a lot if I know… By the way, here, take it. It’s a letter from your family. It was mistakenly put away because of your name. Who would have known that Ogre the Magician is not Rob, but Roberto with an unpronounceable family name.”
The very same letter was still in his pocket for already a week, but Robert didn’t dare to open it. He knew he had taken someone’s identity by accident, but was keeping it on purpose, thus giving hope to the family that their son or husband… was still alive, fighting on the battlefield for the sake of the Kingdom. He didn’t know what to do, postponing the decision. On the other hand, Rob didn’t know how long he would be in this realm. The System didn’t respond, giving him access only to his Status screen.
The latter didn’t change much, despite showing an increase in a few stats. His trait to grow just by using the energy from the interdimensional space was working as he could not train at all. However, he ignored it completely as physical strength couldn’t save him from being burned by a flamethrower, shot by a bullet in the head, or torn apart by a shell. Robert indeed saw such deaths here. Moreover, after fighting inside the enemy’s positions, he confirmed the truth about the horrible deeds of beastmen.
Those cute hybrids of bunnies, foxes, or wolves with humans treated the latter as pure psyches. Rob saw quite a few severed heads, impaled on long sticks, which were used as decorations of the trench. The stories about the possible outcome of captivity were even scarier with the amputation of genitals, long tortures for fun, and other horrors. No wonder nobody from the Kingdom’s side tried to take prisoners, shooting them directly on the spot as wild crazy animals. That decreased the chances of surviving quite a lot, crossing out possible surrender as an option. Robert, himself, had overlived three changes in the company’s composition and two lieutenants. Just by his own observation eight of out ten soldiers had an average duration of life on the battlefield no longer than two months.
Real meat grinder… Okay, don’t be a chicken… Do the beastmen have such a mixture? Would be hilarious… To the point. Do not be afraid. On the contrary, you can make Roberto’s family proud of his deeds. The lieutenant was speaking something about a medal for me for my previous achievements in staying alive. Hell, you could easily die before this war will end. You don’t have anyone here, so it’s not a big problem to give away your accomplishments. It might be better for them to know that their son was a hero who gloriously fought against the enemy, and not the real truth about dying even before stepping on the battlefield. Maybe the decision to support the hope isn’t kind, but it’s better than seeing no purpose in the loss of the child.
Taking out the letter from the pocket, Robert noticed his shaking hands. Despite his reasoning, he was worried. He even didn’t want to come inside the cover, where it was much lighter than outside, but simultaneously more packed with others. The soldiers always struggled to keep their curiosity about family business to themselves. Rob just didn’t want to experience it, while reading a hopeful message to an already dead guy. Not to say answering the questions about something he didn’t know.
At least Robert could read it without any problems. His acquired trait to communicate with local species in realms covered not only speaking but also writing. Moreover, it felt like an automatic in-built translation with corrections according to context. He didn’t need to think about special terms or to carefully adjust measurements to local ones as they went on the background. A few times he had small misunderstandings, but overall it felt as if there was no language barrier at all. The same thing was with writing – his mind and eyes saw familiar letters, but reality showed something completely different. It was insanely convenient and no wonder it was included in God’s envoy package by default. However, it didn’t cover one thing – handwriting.
No way I can write in a similar way to Roberto. If I could, I might have used printed letters and not cursive, but there is no way I am doing it when I can’t control a thing in my writing… Wait. I can mention that I am slightly wounded in my hand from a fragment and can’t use a pen by myself. Nothing too serious, just a scratch, but it still stops me from writing myself. Yes, it may work… I can add information about Beth to switch their attention. Nope, I do not know if he had a fiancé. Okay, let’s read first… Dear Roberto Diadkoleborshviz… what a hell of a family name… Unfortunately, I have to inform you… deep breakthrough… attacked your home village… both parents and sister… my sincere condolence… Shit, shit, shit!