The next few days flew by. Or at least they went by with nothing of note. The same gray daily grind, waiting for the other groups to return. And too much time to think.

Thanks to our losses, my troop had more or less dissolved. Of the three remaining recruits, only Drew still saw himself as a member. The other two used their wounds’ recovery to avoid me. But as if to make up for that, Drew followed me all the time. No matter the goal.

He checked our traps with me in the mornings; he trained beside me during the day, and he even walked behind me when I visited the marketplace in the evenings. Less like a recruit, more like a shadow.

I want to become strong was the simple reason he gave to me. Loyalty based on three dead leprechauns. But I accepted his whims.

We didn’t talk much, but my silent companion was strangely reassuring. As if he was the proof I didn’t fail completely. Everybody makes mistakes, but also something good came out of it. A white lie to soothe the nagging voice in my head. I could have done better. I should have done better. But at least something felt right.

During our daily hunts, I had discovered my promotion to level four. Only one step away from level five, one more step towards my first goal. More options, more strength. Maybe things would have been different if... yeah, such thoughts wouldn’t help. So instead I concentrated on my training and mindlessly followed my daily training routine.

The leprechauns’ experience points had given me a tremendous boost. Or at least huge compared to a hare. But my increasing level also spawned additional problems. Not only would each further level up require more experience points, but lower level enemies also gave less experience. Soon the hares would become useless to me, draining my primary source of experience points.

And the alternative? Unknown. Wolves and boars were rarer animals, not realistic for a daily source. Humans, even when killed, didn’t reward any experience points in the game. And with no knowledge about dungeons or hunting grounds in this still unknown area, low level monsters were also no sensible choice. Hence the leprechauns became the only reliable fuel for progression.

This also explained the weak guards in the city. Even though they trained their sword fightings, only their passive skills would rise. Most of them had no active attack skills, and high-level or magical equipment was unheard of. And so their levels remained the same, a meager one. Months and years of training, only one baby step behind the starting point.

Well-trained sword aptitude was enough to subdue human mischiefs, but a fight against monsters was dominated by strength and endurance. An uphill battle against the lowest mobs. But even if they defeated a monster, the second or third might snuff them out before they reached a higher level. Without respawn, there was no second chance. And the urge to grow stronger was frozen by their will to survive.

Most of my men died during their first mission. And only Drew received any experience points. Five men died in exchange for a single kill. And that needed to repeat over and over and over again, before he would be strong enough to stand on his own. And anyone strong would abandon this desert for richer prospects, leaving only the weak behind.

A vicious circle of lost life with no return.

And wasn’t I the same? I had also planned to leave the village, to leave this shabby city, when I became strong enough. Just like the sword maiden would leave these lands to fulfill her role. Farmers became heroes after they had left their fields. And the bards sang songs from far away.

I sighed. And returned my attention back towards the scroll on my knees.

It was the story of a kidnapped maiden rescued by a knight in shining armor. But after he had rescued her, the knight realized her genuine character and left her behind, returning to his fields, living as a simple farmer. A crestfallen hero returning to his home, before finding fulfillment in the arms of a barmaid.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

A text for bards who wanted to bewitch drunken farmers with an unusual story. And without question picked by Fabien to poke fun at me. A boy killing hares to train for his world-changing adventure. I guess to him I was as much a fool as others were to me.

Although the story wasn’t important to me. The written words had caught my interest, instead. It was English. Or at least an archaic form of it. And I could read the words with some guesswork and help. No need to learn an unknown language. Another advantage my old life presented me.

And so I spent my afternoons studying this world’s language to prepare for what would come.

“Vinetar Aki! Over here!” An abrupt command echoed throughout the barracks. So I stashed the scroll and followed the Instructor towards a remote house. Inside, the other Vinetars and Master Bernier waited for me.

“These are all the present leaders,” the instructor explained with a bow towards Bernier, leaving the room.

Three other Vinetars stood in front of Master Bernier. One unfamiliar face, while the fourth one was still missing. Not a great outcome for our first mission.

“With most groups returned, and all the information collected, we estimated the leprechaun’s position,” Master Bernier started his instructions. “With their scouting groups spotted in the south and the east, we expect them to circle around the southern villages and cut off our connection with the eastern cities and Haithabu.”

He paused for a moment to let the news sink in, before he continued with his report.

“Thankfully our Freiherr foresaw this possibility and signed a group of mercenaries, who will guard the city and its surroundings against their attacks. They already started their construction of a fortification at the southern ford, a two days march from here. So thanks to your work, Gladford won’t see unnecessary bloodshed. I congratulate you on your success.”

A light bow towards us.

“With the upcoming battles, your duties will also change.” Bernier addressed the other three Vinetars. “Your troops will support the fortification and take over their scouting duties. Try to monitor the leprechauns’ movements as close as possible and report everything to the mercenaries. You’ll receive further instructions when you return to the barracks, so prepare your troops for departure. You may leave.”

The three of them bowed towards Master Bernier, leaving only the two of us behind.

“Your troop will perform a unique task,” he said to me. “Honestly, the way you led your troops are... in need of improvement. You can’t lose half your troop before the first battle. But your group was also the only one who slew a leprechaun. So Freiherr Houdin will grant you a second chance. You’ll receive a group of forty recruits and defend the eastern mine.”

“The mine,” I asked in confusion.

“Yeah, the eastern mine.” He nodded. “Gladford possesses a single mine in the east. It’s located offside the expected battlefield, but its income is essential for the upcoming war. Hence your troop will guard the mine against any sudden attacks, humans or leprechauns alike.”

“The mine...,” I muttered to myself. “But... but what about the southern villages? Those farther away from the city?”

“Sadly, we don’t command the troops to protect all the smaller villages,” Master Bernier responded. “And a growing distance will hamper our reaction to any unexpected developments. A battlefield isn’t kind enough to allow for such mistakes.”

“Then... will the scouts inform the villagers?”

“No. Taking care of the fields takes priority,” he explained. “We can’t relinquish half of the harvest as a precaution.”

“So we... just let the villagers... die? We don’t help them?”

So we would sit back and protect a mine instead of humans? We would let unsuspecting farmers die when the leprechauns invaded their village? And pray that they don’t attack too many villages? Wasn’t the whole reason for this army to protect the humans? To defend humanity besides the maiden?

“The villages are used to monster attacks,” Master Bernier answered. “So they’ll know how to handle an attack. And we can take care of them when they reach the fortification. We can’t throw away our soldiers’ lives for the simple chance of defending a defenseless village.”

“But!”

“Didn’t you say you arrived from far away?” Master Bernier examined me, distrust in his eyes. “Did you lie? Why would you care so much for these farmers?”

“I... It’s just... that.” A deep breath, calming myself down. “I came from far away. I only... pitied their fate. So I wanted to help them.”

“I understand that feeling. But the best way to help them is to guard Gladford and its mine. As long as we stand tall, these farmers will have a haven. And as long as we have the mine, the mercenaries will protect the weak.” He patted me on the back. “You’ll stay in the barracks for another week, receiving your new men. We expect you to lead a uniform group this time. No more halfhearted effort. Gladford’s future depends on this mine.”

“As you wish,” I responded, bowed to him, and left the room.