I.

“You’ll get used to it,” he told me, with no further explanation. So I did. Months went by, but it feels like yesterday since I awoke here though the pulse pounding visions no longer strike my dreams and the images of dead humans and demons no longer bothered me. Right, I was a part of the bad guy’s team. Though, when it boiled down to it, I secretly did not care. Even if I was on the other side, I wondered if I still would think the same.

Now, I stood at the edge of a small town.

First Torch had once been a peaceful village, once upon a time. Ironic, since I was bringing even more torches to it. Now, the villager’s screams and demon’s hell raising bothered my ears as I trudged towards a collapsed hut. Some were being chased, but I no longer cared about that. Most of my work was done here. From one of the burning houses, a massive snake figure burst from one of the flames, hissing and covered in blood. Three people burst out from underneath him screaming. I sighed, they were going to be easy prey for his glowing war axe.

Orders were orders, right? A soldier’s duty was to simply do what they were told. I tried to justify it in my head long ago, that these creatures were to be put down because someone higher up in the chain told my Commander, who is now splitting those three people apart limb from limb. The sight of him no longer frightened me. Nothing did anymore. The flames of the two torches in my fists were the only things necessary to complete that order for me.

I was a soldier in name only, but every bit of cowardice I felt welling inside of me fell by the wayside of my last few battles I miraculously survived through. The old side of me was replaced by whoever I was now. This village torching was a simple break, I sighed as the flames consumed the huts. The screams rose to the air with the smoke. The orcs were busy ransacking the southern half of this shoddy place, so I hoped they got the hint to move when the fires got going. They were soldiers like me, after all. Maybe I’ll seep into a nightmare tonight and never wake up, I hoped as I dropped another torch on a hut covered in flammable oil.

An order is an order, and they were just mere human beings. So I was told, but I sometimes wondered if my fellow soldiers felt differently about this situation. No one was to make it out of this village alive, but who was counting, exactly? Something in the smallness of my heart told me I should feel something, but I did not. It was not like any of the High Generals were going to count my sins exactly here and now. I scoff, toss the last torch into the fires and watch the flames rise and the screams die down.

Later, campfires crackled against the darkness, at war against the falling weather. What a fine night to be resting in hell. Again.

I sigh as if it would do anything about my situation. How long have I been in this conflict again? I sat back and tossed another stick in the flames and refused to entertain the answer. I am a part of a unit called the Tusks, a strange band of monsters, who fight for currency of the same name: Coins engraved with artwork of Tusks and Horns. My combat experience was getting better, since whoever my former self was before I arrived has disappeared with her training.

I was heating up in my loose tunic, yet I breathed out cold steam. The others are going to sleep soon, having enough fun with those women prisoners that we captured as prizes from the village raid hours ago. I considered myself lucky, none of these Tusks bothered me. Did they see me as the same as them? My head still pounded against my skull so hard one could probably see a bruise threatening to burst on my ash-stained skin. I would not stand a chance if they were to gang up on me. They had desires I could never understand. Yet we were soldiers, and not paid enough to ask why.

That did not stop me from wondering, however. Perhaps that was my old self’s nature still peeking through the murky veil of this current life.

We were sent to destroy simple people’s livelihoods, for what? I thought the act of burning the village down would sicken me to my core, but instead I felt nothing at all. We were either going to die gloriously upon a shining field of clashing blades until our officers tell us to stop or sink back into the Hells.

Our enemies this time wielded pitchforks and sticks, yet those demons and monsters celebrated as if we won a great battle, danced upon their bodies as if they were sacrificed for the greater good. The fire crackled again and I decided I had enough of the world for now. My tent awaited for me to escape, a forever superior option to another moment awake.

As my head collapsed on the rock-hard bag I had for a pillow, I thought about that battle again. The higher ups wanted it cleaned, every man and child, but the women were theirs to do whatever with. Come to think of it, the fact that I was given a tent of my own seemed to be a good sign that they trust me enough to not desert. Seen a bit of our own weaklings run and suffer the consequences. Yet, even though they remain for a simple one sided mission for this it still makes us all cowards. I tossed back and forth in my head.

What did I do in my past life to deserve this?

I snap myself out of my self-deprecation. I am just a soldier, wasting away under the gears of war until I could turn no longer. I could not settle down anywhere here even if I wanted to or had enough Tusks. If a future hero was inside this village growing like a tumor, it simply was not my problem anymore. The torches and flames took care of it. The multitudes of problems I actually had were secrets only I knew, and most of them were infuriating. I think of one word: Status. Immediately, a window appears within my vision.

Level 1. Stat parameters not maximized yet for level up. Slay an Elite to acquire enough experience.

I guess the people I killed today were not whatever species Elites were. I sigh because of how obvious that was. Commoners would not host any powerful warriors that could claim being Elite. This window was not entirely useless, due to the other things it gave me and yet the Skill’s existence irked me. Why did I possess it? After I woke up in the midst of that fateful battle the Status had appeared and manifested changes in my own body. I awaited memories to come back to me, but all I remember were visions of office work and loneliness. These skills did not exist in my old life, even if I could not remember any of them.

However, in this unit there was one Skill holder, but he never mentioned anything about a level attached to his own. The term ‘Skill Holder’ seemed to imply that the skill was acquired from somewhere or someone and held onto. I must have defeated someone with this Skill prior to waking up. It seemed to be entirely unique from the other types of skills I have heard of. I did not want to risk exposing myself as a threat or an important figure like those other skill users, for that might increase my workload. We also had a mage, and he did not say anything about these types of attacks. Nor did he speak much at all. Once again, I thought of that damn word again and a new window appeared: Status.

CON: F

STR: D

DEX: D

INT: F

STA: D

Luck: N/A

I cringed at the Stat board’s weak results when I first saw them, they all started at F besides the last category, yet I was no soldier at first. As I ducked and weaved through the battles, I noticed that some of them progressed from the letter F. The fact that I could read the windows at all was a miracle. Yet, the sword in my hand felt lighter, the boots caked in mud were easier to move in, and my luck? That N/A value was a given. I thought it was all in my head at first, but when I noticed this window and saw them increase I started to think that it was not some mental problem.

The third problem is that I don’t remember how I ended up in an army like this but I knew that I did not belong here in this world, other than the dazzling light of flames, frost, and the sensation of falling churning my stomach. I was falling from something dark, a metal sphere that contained me hanging on a spiraling tower, and then the next thing I knew I was on a battlefield with the smell of burnt flesh and an acute acrid smoke invading my nostrils.

I don’t know what I was either, my ears were pointed like an elf. The term “elf” came from somewhere deep within me as a memory, but no one has called themselves that. They instead call me a Nameless one. No one has a mirror, of course, and my breastplate is too battered to actually inspect myself, but I won’t bother asking. My anatomy did not match what I remember from my past life, but I did not know my old self at all. I am a woman now. Perhaps, this notion came about from that blow to the head I received months ago.

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The rivers we come across are reddened with the blood of this warring country. From what I observed, my fellow soldiers had a variety of features, but none of them judged my ears as anything out of place. There were some had rounded ears like what I would call regular humans and others had scales for skin, leading me to believe that the Tusks were all a part of some conscripted unit. I wondered if I even had a home before this war started. My eyes hovered over the command to close the Status window, but a notification sent my skin crawling. Notifications only showed up when combat was about to take place, another perk of this system that I had inside of me.

Warning: Entity with hostile intent incoming. Prepare for battle.

I groaned. Where was the nightwatch? Enemies would ambush the locations of camps after battles, but the Generals only noticed when significant losses were affecting the war. They came back with a strict patrol system among the lower ranks and the attacks ceased immediately afterwards. Even a shoddy unit such as mine lasted this long without any ambush with those patrol. It helped that some of the Demons did not need to sleep at all. The window snapped shut by itself, indicating the threat was real and close by. I reached for my rusted sword, but sighed. It was not like such a weapon in quarters like these would be effective.

I kept my eyes closed in on the entrance of the tent. It was by no means spacious inside, but it was palatial compared to resting on the dirt and being eaten alive by the bugs. My ears and eyes were sharp, despite my gaunt appearance. I had what I assumed was an Intelligence stat of F, but that has not stopped my development this far. I heard a gasp and a bump from outside.

The threat cussed to itself, stirring whatever was left of the shrubbery nearby noisily as it struggled. Perhaps foolishness was the result of the low Intelligence stat, but I felt like whatever was marked as a threat did not have the stones to annihilate the tent first and then ask questions. Whoever outside sounded feminine, and much too soft to sound like one either. My blade was the only thing available for action, but my mind and body did not share the same urge. I could not deliver swift death and only could rely on my gut instincts on who this entity was. Shivered breaths came from a bush near where I moped around, by the corpse of the campfire I set up hours ago.

“Who’s there?” I barked, staring at the canvas. My own voice was also light, and the other men teased me for it. They did not know what I was, and nor did I even after inspecting down there after relieving myself. If worse came to me, I could at least beat them with my fists. “Not another step!”

The voice said something inaudible, but it was blotted out by the clacking of teeth. A prisoner? They were out there shivering. I recalled the forest trails were relatively easy to escape in, so if things go south so could I. I push my ear against the canvas in order to capture anything worth decoding from the shivering voice.

“M-My lord,” I heard the voice shake out like dew from a blade of grass.

Light. Weak. Shivering and most likely some captured woman sent by one of the fools in my squad.

“I’m coming out, remain still or I will kill you,” I attempt to sound dangerous, but I do not feel like I am very successful. The voice chattered something else in response, but the adrenaline pumping in my head overtook whatever noise I could detect. I pulled on my hood and forced my head out the canvas, only to see who the trespasser really was.

A young female, bruised all over and shivering, stood stark naked in the cold. She was one of the women taken during the war. Was this some kind of cruel joke sent by the other soldiers? I sighed.

“You can speak,” I told her, insinuating that she should or else.

“My lord,” she croaked. “I was sent here to attend to you.”

Hostile Entity Detected!

“Is that so?” I ignored the warning. If I were to die from whoever this woman was, I would at least give the rest of the troops my Tusk payout. “You look like you’re freezing.”

The woman did not give a response, but realized I was inviting her in my tent and quickly shuffled her way inside. A clear ticket to assassinate me, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Those fools took me to be as greedy as they were, but they were wrong. Besides, given my situation, I was not even sure how to seal a night with a woman. She could put me out of my misery for all I cared. Was I always like this? She entered and began to immediately shiver less from the warmth of my lantern’s heat a while later. I gesture to the pile of tough blankets I had, and she sits immediately.

“Are you going to take me, my lord?” She asks as I sit on the ground, searching through a scrap of clothing but coming up with none. She will die sooner or later from here to wherever, I mused in my head. With or without clothing. I spotted something within the half-opened pack. Useless boots that I would not be using and clothes that felt like home. Maybe the woman needed to feel that home herself while wearing them.

“This army’s headed north, I hear,” I ignored her offering. I had my back turned to her, which was a foolish mistake but I did not care. The window stopped its warnings suddenly. Did I change her mind? Hopefully my gambit worked. “Best make yourself scarce before that happens.”

“You,” she nearly broke her distrustful character. “You’re not going to take me?”

“Have these,” I handed the tattered clothes and tossed my old boots to her over my shoulder. The woman shifted a bit on my mat and I heard clothes rustle behind me. The plan to dissuade her from killing me was working! “You may stay here, but that will make it harder to leave.”

I checked my status and saw no hostile notifications, so I turned to face her.

“My lord…”

“I’m not giving this to apologize to you,” I pulled down my hood. She looked shocked, but her eyes were on my ears. “I’m giving freedom to you as one woman to another.”

“Are you…” her voice darkened, as dim as the night. “Not free yourself?”

“Go on,” I insisted, tending to a new lamp. “I expect you to be—“

“Let me stay!” She begged, but she already had on the clothes I had given her.

I sighed. Those eyes had the weight of the world upon them, though I could not tell their true colors. I wondered what she saw in mine. Instead of resisting, I simply nodded.

“Leave when you are ready,” I matched my tone with hers. “I expect you to be gone when I wake up.”

“You’re not like the others in the Dark One’s army,” she drew near me. Is that what they call the king? I’ve never laid a single eye upon him, nor did I want that to change. I shook her off me, despite her warmth tempting me. Perhaps keeping a creature like her at bay was better for me.

“Good night,” I muttered, but before I had a chance to even wonder where that came from I fell asleep with a sword in hand at the ready.

By the morning, the woman was gone and I was unharmed. I checked the windows of my status and hoped she left for good. Once again, nothing seemed out of place. I cracked my other eye open and realized the sword I had was missing. I groaned and resigned myself to a shrug. If that was the price I paid for sparing her, then so be it. It was also a price for not even dreaming about what I’ve done to the village last night.

I put my armor on and the threw the doubts aside. I had to be ready for anything. The tent was worthless to me now so I ditched it, but at least the woman was kind enough to leave the halberd I hid behind it. The horns were going to sound any moment from now, and not arriving on time would cause punishment to fall on my shoulders. If we were an organized unit again we would have been more strict; there were only seventeen soldiers left of the group I was a part of. We hardly made for a competent patrol.

Yokgu, a being one would call an orc, waved at me. His stout head nodded as I approached, the lengthy fangs that hung from his upper lip broadened into a grin. Ah, so it was him who had the idea to send the dangerous woman to me last night. As odd as it would seem, he was the first of the squad to check if I was alive after our first major loss, and we’ve become fast friends.

His eyes sharpened on me, but I kept my distance.

“Need to lighten up,” Yokgu told me. “You’re too gloomy! Did you like my gift?”

I shrugged, but he saw that I did not.

“Gwahaha! You should have sent her pieces back to me!” He pat my shoulder. What kind of monster does he think I am?

“Silence,” our little war band leader, Ake, hissed. The scales on his neck rattled in anticipation. I knew the Commander had a Skill, but he mentioned nothing about leveling it up. The skill in question seemed like magic, but much more of a powerful technique rather than a spell. I theorized that it was its own thing. The soldiers mentioned that Skills and magic were different and simultaneously the same, so I decided it was not worth the hassle being confused over the two.

Still, how does mine work? I knew I had to find an Elite to slay to grow it. The less expensive the Elite cost, the better.

The war horns thundered before I could ponder further, perhaps for the better. A disheveled knight known as Vastil rode near us before the horns finally ceased their noise. He raised his voice and lifted a scroll and roared at us with a pompous voice.

“Hear me! His Majesty has commanded you,” he declared. “You will join the Soul Army for battle at the Spine!”

I did not want to know what the Spine was, but the knight rode off before explaining anyways. Yokgu awaited the horns to start further away before spitting. He hated Vastil as if he had history with the man.

“Damn bastard,” Yokgu growled. “Always telling us what to do. Someone ought to put the pious rider in his place!”

“Are you the one who will do it?” I grinned.

“I could cleave him in two,” he huffed. “Instead he sits back on a fancy horse while the rest of us fight!”

We marched along and he held that heavy axe the whole way. Ake does not stop our bickering. It was just a way we passed the time. I was sure that even if a real fight broke out amongst the soldiers the Commander would not interfere and watch us instead. We’ve traveled most of the day so far, but I did not have a good feeling about Vastil’s command.

“What’s the Spine, anyways?” I asked, trying to weave the question into the topic as naturally as I could. Yokgu stared at me, but scoffed.

“Damn, you and your kind know nothing beyond the tree,” The orc pointed beyond a yellow hill where camps with our insignias hung up lay like white specters. I hardly noticed the smoke and ashes of war rising beyond it, but their ghosts began to haunt my senses all the same. The sound of clashing metal invaded my ears as we drew near the camps. I gulped but Yokgu laughed. “That’s where we will emerge in glory, my friend, or meet our glorious end.”