"Bloody nobility and their pride." A man walking down a busy street dressed in a brown three piece suit muttered to himself.

When Captain Miller Sharpe (A cookie for anybody who knows who the last name is based on!) had agreed to lead a forlorn hope into the enemy fortress in exhange for a promotion to the rank of captain with the dream of finally being able to lead his own legion he had not thought that those traitorous nobles would promote him to the Rank of Captain and make him lead the 13th Legion.

Of course, he should've seen it coming a mile away. Not as if any noble would want a commoner to be in charge of one of their Legions after all.

But nontheless Miller was on cloud nine ever since he had recieved his transfer orders to the 13th Legion.

Those nobles thought that they could cause despair and probably make Captain Miller Sharpe of common blood to resign his officer's commision but they had made a grave mistake.

You see. Captain Miller Sharpe wasn't of this world. Heck, he wasn't even supposed to be summoned.

In the world of Reik, where magic exists. Strong conentration of mana would sometimes open portals to another world swallowing the unfortunate sould on the other side and depositing them into Reik.

When Captain Miller was rushing back home from work in the military museum in London, England to play a new real time strategy game based on the black powder era a strange green portal appeared in front of him.

Being unable to stop himself in time he found himself stepping into the portal.

When he came to he found himself in the middle of a battlefield. Stuck between an army of humans dressed in brightly coloured red uniforms and shining armour wielding well polished spears and swords standing in a well formed formation and an army of ork looking creatres dressed in dull tattered clothings and patchwork armour wielding blunt and chipped swords rushing headlong into a wall of shield with no sense of order naturally, Miller would run towards his fellow humans.

Thinking he was rescued he had his thoughts disappointed when the battle between the humans and the ork looking creatures indicated it needed more bodies thrown into the meat grinder.

Miller was soon dragged to the rear of the formation where a neatly build campsite was seen. While Miller was gawking at the countless rows of white linen tents in neat rows surrounded by a stone wall and watchtower stretching before him he was grabbed by the collar and dragged to the centre of the camp where a large tent was seen.

Being dragged into the large tenthe found himself face to face with an old man who had probably seen more than he should. With a scar going down his right eye and a grizzled face, the old man was dressed in a red military uniform.

The old man was currently sitting behind a wooden desk on a wooden chair with his feet up on the desk whilst smoking on a pipe.

"He's been drafted. Get him what he needs to survive." Startled to hear a voice behind him and realising that it was the man who was manhandling all along.

Miller looked behind him to find himself staring at a man wearing a red military uniform with a steel chest piece covering his torso. On the man's head was a morion. In his left hand he held a shield which had a griffon painted on and on his right a spear with a steel tip. On the man's hip was a short sword and a red sash tied across the man's chest

Realising that he was being stared at the man looked back at Miller.

"You nervous?" The man asked Miller.

Of course I'm nervous! I'm fighting Bloody orks which are not even supposed to be reaI! Is what Miller wanted to say but he kept his mouth shut and instead nodded.

"Good, that's means you're not lying. Here's some tips for when you go out there. Always, and I mean ALWAYS keep your shield up and stay with the shield wall. You may see men occasionally running out of the shield wall in a blood rage and I can say those men have a deathwish." The man stopped and looked at Miller with a questioning stare.

"You do not have a deathwish do you?" Miller shook his head at that question.

"No? Good, that means I don't have to spend even more time cataloguing the losses my cohort suffered and more time drinking with my men."

Cohort? Miller thought it was strange with how "Unroman" these men looked and yet they were using the roman legions style of organisation.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Feeling that he should introduce himself Miller stuck out his hand. "Miller Sharpe sir."

Looking at Miller's Hand before looking back at him the man shook Miller's hand. "Lieutenant Hark Cherper."

A moment later the old man returned with Miller's gear and weapons.

Surprisingly all his gear fit and his weapons had immediately felt right to him.

"I see the quartermaster is as sharp as ever." Hark appraised Miller in his uniform.

"Fifteen bloody years in the Legion. Of course, I'm bloody sharp." The Old Man retorted.

Smilling at the retort Hark turned back to Miller and gestured for him to follow him.

"Come On! We gotta hurry up and join back with my cohort. WIth the rate of how thing's are going we are barely holding on and with me being absent I've left my cohort with my sergeants."

With that prompt Miller and Hark began running towards the sound of men and orks shouting and weapons clashings and into the midst of battle.

It was also in the midst of battle when Miller felt a thrill he had never felt before and a sense of leadership started growing within him.

Whilst Miller was fighting tooth and nail within the shield wall Hark was observing Miller from the rear.

He had seen Miller leading the men along with his sergeants. Seeing that Miller had potential Hark decided that should he die in battle he will pass the command of the cohort to Miller.

And that reality wasn't far away. Soon Hark found a crossbow bolt piercing his armour and getting stuck in his chest.

Seeing their commanding officer fall Hark's cohort immediately burned with rage and started pushing the Orks back thorugh sheer rage alone creating a hole in the Ork's lines.

Siezing this opportunity, the high ranking generals exploited that opening and routed the orks.

After the battle was over Miller was led by a sergeant form Hark's cohort back to the camp and into the Camp's infirmary where the wounded were taken to during battle.

Laying on a cot amidst the crying and screaming of wounded men was Lieutenant Hark Cherper. Surrounding him were the sergeants of his cohort and a healer.

"At most I can delay his death for a couple more minutes. The arrow he was shot with was coated in an extremely deadly poison." The priest explained to Hark's colleagues.

As Miller and his guide approached Hark one of the soldiers noticed him and informed the rest.

"Miller, come here." Hark whispered weakly.

When Miller saw Hark he was stunned. When Miller saw hark the man had healthy tan skin with a face full of vigor. Now he was a former shell of himself with black veins running through his pale white skin and his face full of fatigue.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Snapped out of his thoughts Miller stepped forward and stood next to Hark.

"With the power invested upon me by the Emperor, I, Lieutenant Hark Cherper, a commisioned officer of his Imperial Majesty's Legions, hereby concede my commision and authority as acting commanding officer of the 5th Legion 3rd cohort and place them in the hands of Private Miller Sharpe who is as of now the acting commanding officer of the 5th Legion 3rd Cohort and a commisioned officer of his Imperial Majesty's Legions."

"I...I don't know how to respond. Isn't this too much? I've only met you today and you're already making me an officer?" Miller asked the dying officer.

Hark weakly smiled at Miller."I now potential when I see it."

Hark then look at his sergeants "It will do well for you lot to listen to Miller now."

Hark's Sergeants all answered back with a yes sir.

Hark then turned back to Miller. "And It will do well for you to listen to your sergeants. After all, they've been in more than you have."

"I will sir, I will."

Satisfied with the answer given by Miller. Hark breathed his last breath and went into eternal slumber.

"May his soul forever rest in peace." The healer made a religious cross with his hand and mummured a prayer.

"May his soul forever rest in peace." The sergeants mummured after the healer.

That was 3 years ago.