In the southern part of the Kingdom of Arcadia, Laconia—
A fierce battleground. It was once a territory of one of the seven kingdoms, Ostberg Kingdom, and now a territory of Arcadia. It was a contested region, constantly switching between Arcadia and Ostberg.
In such lands, no one could work in farms; only desolate fields of strife remained, contested without end. No sane person would choose to settle here. There was no profit left, only battles fought for the sake of pride.
Today, as usual, battles unfolded as if by some prearranged harmony.
"...I'm tired."
In the plains just beyond the fort, amidst the field battle, stood a man with white hair.
"Ah, yes, yes. It's good to have enthusiasm, indeed."
"Ueryaaaaaaaahyueeeeeeei!"
"...You’re better off holding a hoe and tilling the fields. In your next life, that is."
Another head flew off, and the white-haired man sighed in dismay.
"Sigh. It’s just petty squabbles among foot soldiers. No point in trying hard here; it won't even earn me a copper coin."
He easily dodged the enemy soldiers' attacks, casually beheading them one after another. Yet, in the chaos of battle, even if one stands out, there's no chance of being favorably remembered by those above. In fact, they're not remembered at all. At best, they're used by a slightly superior officer—a foot soldier with a little less hair.
"The officers are too busy with their own affairs to even look my way."
A grumble slips out. For the young man, this place offered nothing to learn, no productivity—just like the barren land itself.
"Time to go home, eat, and sleep."
With that thought, the young man fought half-heartedly. Before long, it was already dusk. The battle would soon end.
Today, once again, the usual battle concluded. And as always, it ended in a draw.
༺༻
Merchants crowded the fort of Laconia. Though the land lacked productivity, soldiers still bought goods, and they paid well. As a result, the place is surprisingly thriving. Most are stalls, but some have rented houses to set up shop.
"Rabbit stew with extra meat, please."
At one of the less bustling stalls, the white-haired young man was having his meal.
"Coming right up."
The meal, handed over brusquely, was served just as roughly, but the portion was generous. The price was cheap. And the taste—
"As bad as ever."
He stated plainly, but the shopkeeper didn’t even turn around. The young man didn’t seem to mind the taste either, slurping it down and gnawing on the rabbit meat.
As he ate absentmindedly, he sensed someone sitting next to him. Without concern, he continued spooning his meal.
"Um... I'll have the same as the person next to me."
An order lacking initiative. Both the shopkeeper and the young man continued their tasks, undisturbed. The shopkeeper scooped stew from the pot and sloppily dumped it onto a plate. The casualness leaves the customer who ordered it dumbfounded. This shop rarely saw repeat customers.
"Coming right up."
The served meal leaves the customer speechless. The taste does the same. And the remaining quantity makes them foam at the mouth. That's the pattern for first-timers at this shop.
"Wow, it's amazing that you can eat this."
It seems the person next to him is trying to strike up a conversation. The young man, William, lifts his white-haired head.
"Ah, I'm not someone suspicious. I'm Carl Taylor, from the same unit."
Seeing the boyish man who introduced himself as Carl, William recalled.
‘Oh, that's right, there was a new recruit’
Carl's curly golden hair suggested a privileged upbringing.
"William Livius. Nice to meet you."
William returned to his meal. Once a freed slave named Al, he was now William Livius, a third-class citizen from Lusitania.
"I know you! Everyone's talking about the amazing guy with white hair. And that... your taste is a bit off."
Carl whispered the last part, hoping the shopkeeper wouldn't hear. William looked up again, reluctantly.
"What do you want?"
"Um... I was hoping we could be friends."
At that moment, William was struck by an unpleasant sense of déjà vu. Carl's face overlaps with that of a young man with red hair. Red and gold, different yet somehow similar.
"Sorry, but I'll have to decline. I try not to make friends here."
Carl was not the type of person William preferred. He generally disliked those who were wealthy and content.
"Oh, I see. That's too bad, haha."
Carl's disappointment was obvious. His face looked like “me”. A replacement, the "me" who should be dead—
"Anyway, you should eat before your stew gets cold."
William ended the conversation abruptly, returning to his meal.
"Yeah, you're right,"
Carl responded, and turned to his stew, only to collapse immediately after tasting it.
"Hey, what's wrong?! Was it that bad?!"
Even William was taken aback by this. The shopkeeper feigned ignorance. This shop should have closed down long ago.
"Customer, your bill."
The shopkeeper demanded payment for two from William, ignoring the collapsed Carl. It was a wonder that the shop hadn't closed down already. It should’ve been the top candidate for closure in Laconia.
"I'll pay. That's what you want, right?"
Tending to Carl, William begrudgingly paid and finished both servings of stew.
"Terrible!"
Whether the shopkeeper was surprised by the amount William ate or that he managed to finish the awful stew, even he was taken aback.
"I'll be back!"
William left the shop in a huff. Despite everything, for a growing young man like him, a shop where he can eat such quantities cheaply is valuable, even if the taste is bad. It was nutritious, at least.
"Damn, today's been a cursed day."
Unable to just leave Carl lying around, William carried him on his back. If this were back in Arcus, he would have ignored him, but they were in the same unit. He couldn’t afford to start bad rumors.
"I guess I'll take him to my room."
William carried the burden (Carl) to his rented room.
༺༻
"Mmm, mmm."
When Carl woke up, he found himself in a very simple room. There was a single shabby bed, a window that didn’t seem to get much light, and a desk. And hanging from the window frame—
"Whoa!"
Hearing Carl's startled voice, William let go of the window frame.
"You're awake. Then hurry back to your own rented room. If you don't have one, go back to your sleeping bag."
"What were you doing, William?"
Carl looked at William, still shocked by the earlier window frame hanging.
"I'm training. Pull-ups are a full-body exercise. You can adjust the load by carrying weight, and it's something you can do even in your room."
"Pull-ups? Load?"
Carl's confusion was not unusual in Arcadia. Training there usually involves swinging swords or spears instead of practical exercises. Pull-ups are rarely practiced and are considered more of a child's play. The concept of applying load to muscles is also foreign.
"There are such trainings. If you want to know more, read the Spartan manual. There should be copies and translations in the library in Arcus."
Back when William was Al, he had read that book numerous times. The training methods described were far more rational and suited to the human body than anything available in Arcadia.
"Wow, you can read books too, William? You're quite knowledgeable."
Carl's casual remark startled William.
"Well, I have some knowledge. To a degree, at least."
"And you came from Arcus? I'm from Arcus too. Oh, and my brother loves books, so I think you and him would have a lot to talk about!"
William dug himself deeper into a hole. He had let his guard down and talked too much about unnecessary things. He exhaled deeply to calm himself.
"I'm a third-class citizen, a foreigner. I only stopped by Arcus briefly. I visited the library and read some books. Can we wrap this up? I need to rest for tomorrow."
"You're a foreigner! I have so many questions... No, no, I shouldn't. I'd love to talk more, but I'll leave you be for today. Thank you for taking care of me! See you tomorrow!"
Carl left the room energetically, not forgetting to bow before closing the door.
Looking at the closed door, William held his head in his hands.
"What a... pain in the ass."
William's sigh echoed through the cramped room.
༺༻
"Good morning, Mr. William!"
"...You're quite spirited today. Good morning."
Carl gazed at William, who wore an annoyed expression, with sparkling eyes.
Their superior officer, having witnessed this, approached them.
"Oh, you two know each other? Then you take care of him."
"What?! But!"
The sudden decision made William blurt out in protest.
"Hm? Talking back, foreigner?"
Intimidated by the stern glare, William faltered. He was a superior officer and a second-class citizen—there was no room for backtalk in any sense.
"No, I understand. This way to your post, Carl."
"Ah, yes!"
As William and Carl walked away together, the superior officer watched their backs with a murky gaze.
༺༻
William and Carl took their positions on the upper ramparts of the fort, behind the archers. As usual, the army began its march from the base—a march of predictable harmony.
"It's tough luck for you, being stuck with a hated guy like me."
Perhaps it was the boredom that prompted William to speak to Carl, who, under the silent pressure, lit up at the conversation. Pondering over what was said,
"Mr. William, are you disliked?"
Carl looked puzzled, seemingly not understanding the previous exchange.
"I’m hated. At first, I didn't quite grasp the extent of it."
At the nuance of 'extent,' Carl tilted his head again.
"No, it's just... I underestimated how petty a soldier could be. And how much I underestimated people's jealousy too…"
Turning his gaze away from a bewildered Carl, William looked out beyond the fort. Today, they would not fight on the battlefield, but defend from within the fort.
The approaching army was besieging Laconia.
"Hm, isn’t it a little more than usual...?"
The ground trembled, resonating through the fort, followed by murmurs among the ranks.
"No… it's not just a little; it's too many."
The usual routine crumbled with a crash, and the air of laziness vanished from Laconia's fort.
Carl collapsed in fear. His first battle had been just the day before, a mere skirmish compared to the force approaching today.
"You're lucky, Carl."
Carl looked at William. The expression on his face—
"You'll get a real taste of war. Plenty of it."
It was a hideous grin.
The peace of Laconia would crumble today.
༺༻
The battle of death began. The field was strewn with corpses. No friendly troops remained in front of Laconia's fort. Many ladders were placed against the walls, and in some places, the enemy had breached. At this point, it didn't matter whose unit or where one belonged. It was a clear defeat. A losing battle.
"Not bad at all."
William smiled as he cut down the invading enemies. Compared to Carl, it was like comparing a child to an adult—beyond comparison.
"In fact, it's good, great, even the best!"
He effortlessly thrust his sword into the seams of the armor, flipping it upward. The enemy's throat split open, making a whistling sound as the air escaped. Without a throat, they were deprived of the right to even scream.
"I'm really lucky!"
He kicked an enemy peering over the ladder, sending several tumbling down with a smile.
"Well then, shall I just reap until the retreat signal is given?"
William slashed through the enemies amidst the chaos. Dodging attacks, sometimes using allies as shields, his flawless maneuvers were on a different level from the average foot soldier.
‘You're nothing like me, you vermin! My sparring partner was that giant gorilla from the freak show. And it wasn't just mindless swinging; I trained my body efficiently, using my head. You trash with your insect brains live in a different world than I do!’
Of course, he couldn't reveal these inner thoughts. Once they started, they wouldn't stop.
‘Huh? Oh, Carl's still alive. Looks like he's about to die, though.’
Carl swung his sword desperately, but his movements were clearly amateurish. The enemy soldier wasn't much better, but it was only a matter of time before Carl would die.
"Help, please!"
He called for help, but naturally, no one responded. Everyone was too preoccupied with their own survival, and no one had the luxury to assist. Unheard, an enemy spear tore through Carl's cheek. He tumbled, wetting himself. On the brink of death—
"Please!! Is there… anyone…!!"
At that moment, William and Carl's gazes crossed. It was but an instant, a fleeting encounter.
‘Who would save you? Surely you were happy too, right? With a family, warm meals, a soft bed, and then, and then—’
William got distracted for a moment and on the battlefield, that was as good as a death sentence.
"Ahh."
A single word fell, a word of despair. The end of everything.
"Dieeeeeee!"
The enemy soldier, an Ostberg troop, was also fighting for his life. He had a family to protect, loved ones to defend, here—
"Whaaaaat?!"
The spear danced in the air. Not just the spear, but the arm that wielded it flew and scattered. Blood mist obscured the view. It was incomprehensible what had happened, but,
"Die."
He saw his own death.
The head flew off. To avoid splattering blood, the person standing in front of Carl kicked away the enemy's body.
‘What am I doing?’
William couldn't believe what he had done. His hands trembled. Not from killing, but from saving. He had saved an outsider. Someone who looked wealthy, happy, and out of place here. Unthinkable.
‘For a moment, just a moment, I saw him in that man. That red-haired young master.’
The red-haired young man he had killed. The man whose existence he had taken. That expression of resentment, the face he used to call Norman with a laugh—
"Ah, William!"
Overcome with emotion, Carl began to cry. Forgetting even to add 'Mr.,' he clung to William, sobbing, "Thank you, thank you." William watched the scene with a detached gaze.
"It's nothing... Can you stand?"
Without meeting his gaze, William offered a hand. He couldn't let anyone see his current expression, not even Carl or Favela.
"Thank you, William. ...Oh, Mr."
Remembering what he had forgotten to say, Carl awkwardly added it at the end.
"Just William is fine. We should start preparing to retreat."
"Eh, but is it okay to leave our post?"
William casually cut down an approaching enemy soldier and turned to Carl. His expression was already calm. The "self" he saw was no longer visible.
"It's not good. But those who could reprimand us are already dead."
He remembered how he had used his superior as a shield against an enemy spear just a moment ago. It was incidental but necessary.
‘After all, what this battle of death needs is the death of many officers. The survivors... they automatically move up unless they die.’
Dying in such a senseless battle was the height of folly.
‘Well, this guy has his uses too. I have to think that way, or I can't go on.’
William shifted his gaze to Carl's foolish face. Feeling embarrassed about what he had let slip, his face turned red. Despite being in the middle of a battlefield, it was a carefree conversation.
"Let's go. If you don't want to die, follow me."
"Y-Yes!"
William led Carl down from the fort. If they were to retreat, they naturally had to fall back to the north gate. Being too obvious would attract unwanted attention and trouble.
‘If we don't retreat skillfully... I'll end up dying in this boring place.’
William sighed as he looked back.
‘Sigh, really, what am I doing?’
Carl's eyes sparkled as he followed William.
On that day, the fort of Laconia fell.