He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties. His clothes were simple, but the quality was much better than what most of the soldiers wore. He also carried himself like someone who was used to giving orders and having people listen.
The boy standing beside him looked younger, perhaps twelve or thirteen. Unlike the man, he seemed more interested in looking around the tent than paying attention to the people inside it.
Adam glanced down at their joined hands before letting go.
"Adam," he said. "And this is Faya."
The man nodded.
"Good to meet you both. I heard you two were brought into the camp recently."
"Recently is one way to put it," Adam replied.
He wasn't sure how much he should say. He had already learned that this world was not as simple as it first appeared. Information had value, and giving too much of it to strangers was rarely a good idea.
The man seemed to notice his hesitation.
"I don't mean to pry. I was told there was a new group of conscripts being processed today. My son wanted to see how the military camps worked, so I brought him along."
The boy looked up.
"I didn't just want to see the camp. I wanted to see the soldiers."
"That is what I said," the man replied.
"No, you said I wanted to see the camp."
Adam almost smiled.
The boy clearly wasn't afraid of correcting his father.
"And what do you think so far?" Adam asked him.
The boy looked around the tent again.
"It's smaller than I expected."
"Most things are when you see them in person."
The boy considered that answer, then nodded as if Adam had given him something worth thinking about.
Faya, meanwhile, remained quiet.
Adam glanced at her. She had been unusually silent since they entered the camp. He couldn't blame her. They were in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by armed men, and neither of them had much control over their current situation.
The man followed Adam's glance.
"Is she your sister?"
"No."
His answer came a little too quickly.
Adam paused.
"She's a friend."
The man didn't press the matter.
Instead, he turned toward the boy.
"Why don't you introduce yourself properly?"
The boy straightened.
"My name is—"
He stopped when a soldier appeared at the tent entrance.
"Sir, the quartermaster is ready to see the new arrivals."
Adam turned toward the soldier.
"Is that for us?"
The soldier looked at him.
"Unless there are other new arrivals waiting in this tent, yes."
Adam nodded.
"Then we should go."
He looked back at the man.
"It was good meeting you."
"And you."
The man stepped aside, allowing Adam and Faya to pass. The boy followed them toward the entrance, but not before looking back at his father.
"Are we coming too?"
"Apparently," the man answered.
Adam wasn't sure what to make of that.
It seemed strange for someone who appeared to have some standing in the camp to follow a group of new conscripts to the quartermaster. Perhaps he had business there. Perhaps he was simply curious.
Either way, Adam had more important things to worry about.
He needed to understand the system, figure out what the military expected of him, and find a way to regain some control over his life.
Being forced into a subclass he hadn't chosen was bad enough.
Being forced to serve in an army without knowing what kind of war he was being sent into was worse.
As they walked through the camp, Adam paid attention to everything around him.
The tents were arranged in neat rows. Soldiers moved between them, carrying equipment, food, and supplies. Some were training in a nearby clearing, while others stood in groups talking.
There were also several people who didn't look like soldiers at all.
Merchants, perhaps. Workers. People who had business with the military.
Adam watched a group of soldiers carrying wooden crates toward a storage building.
If this world operated anything like the one he remembered, an army required an enormous amount of supplies. Food, medicine, weapons, armor, clothing, and countless other things had to be delivered every day.
And where there were supplies, there were always problems to solve.
That thought made him feel a little better.
His legendary class might not have been what he originally expected, but it was still his class.
He would have to find a way to make it work.
They reached a larger tent near the center of the camp. Two guards stood outside, and a wooden sign had been placed beside the entrance.
The soldier leading them stopped.
"Wait here."
He disappeared inside.
Adam folded his arms and looked around.
Faya moved closer to him.
"Do you think they're going to give us equipment?"
"Probably."
"What kind?"
"That depends on how much they like spending money."
She looked at him.
"You're joking."
"Mostly."
Faya sighed.
"You really don't seem worried."
"I am worried."
"You don't look worried."
Adam looked down at her.
"Would you prefer that I panic?"
"No."
"Then I'll keep doing what I'm doing."
She gave him a look that suggested she wasn't entirely satisfied with that answer.
Before she could respond, the soldier returned.
"Come inside."
The tent was larger than their previous quarters. A long table stood in the center, covered with papers, equipment lists, and several wooden boxes. Behind it sat a broad-shouldered man wearing a military uniform.
He looked tired.
Not the kind of tired that came from missing a night of sleep, but the kind that came from dealing with the same problems every day.
His eyes moved over Adam and Faya before settling on the man who had accompanied them.
"You're back."
"I am."
"And you've brought visitors."
"Something like that."
The quartermaster rubbed his forehead.
"Fine. Let's get this over with. I have another thirty recruits to process before the end of the day."
He pulled a sheet of paper from a pile.
"Adam?"
"Here."
"Faya?"
"Here."
He marked something on the paper.
"Both of you have been assigned to the same unit for the time being. You'll receive basic equipment, two sets of clothing, a bedroll, and three days of rations. Anything beyond that will have to be requested through your commanding officer."
Adam nodded.
"What about our classes?"
The quartermaster looked up.
"What about them?"
"Are we allowed to change our subclasses?"
The man stared at him for a moment.
"No."
Adam waited.
"That's it?"
"What else do you want me to say? The military assigns your initial role based on its needs. You accepted the assignment, and the system recorded it. If you have a problem with your subclass, you can take it up with your commanding officer."
Adam resisted the urge to sigh.
He had expected that answer, but hearing it confirmed was still frustrating.
"What about training?"
"You'll begin tomorrow morning. Your unit commander will explain the schedule."
The quartermaster reached beneath the table and placed two bundles on top of it.
"Your equipment. Make sure you check everything before you leave. If something is missing, tell me now. Once you sign for it, you're responsible for it."
Adam examined the bundle.
There was a set of clothing, a bedroll, a small bag, and a few basic supplies.
Nothing particularly impressive.
Still, it was better than nothing.
He opened the bag and checked its contents. A small knife, a canteen, some dried food, and a few other necessities.
Then he noticed something.
A small medical kit had been included with the supplies.
Adam picked it up.
"Is this standard equipment?"
The quartermaster glanced at it.
"For your unit, yes. You're expected to carry basic medical supplies. If someone gets injured, you provide what assistance you can until a proper healer arrives."
Adam turned the kit over in his hands.
Now that was interesting.
He opened it carefully.
There were bandages, a small bottle of disinfectant, a few basic medicinal items, and several empty containers.
It wasn't much, but it was a starting point.
With his class, even ordinary ingredients might be useful if he understood how to work with them.
He closed the kit and placed it in his bag.
"I have another question."
The quartermaster looked as though he regretted asking for his name.
"What is it?"
"Are we allowed to gather our own medicinal ingredients?"
The man frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I would like to have more than a few bandages if I am expected to help treat injured soldiers."
The quartermaster leaned back in his chair.
"That depends on where you're stationed. Inside the camp, you can collect common plants as long as you don't interfere with military property or enter restricted areas. Outside the camp, you'll need permission."
Adam nodded.
That was useful information.
He had no intention of revealing everything about his class to a stranger, but there was no reason he couldn't begin preparing for the future.
The quartermaster pushed a second sheet of paper toward him.
"Sign here."
Adam looked at the document.
It was a record of the equipment he had received.
He signed his name.
Faya did the same.
"Good. You're both assigned to the same tent for now. The soldier outside will take you there."
The quartermaster began sorting through his papers again, making it clear that their meeting was over.
Adam gathered his supplies.
As he turned toward the entrance, the unfamiliar man spoke.
"Before you go, I have a question."
Adam stopped.
"Yes?"
"Why are you so interested in medicine?"
For a moment, Adam considered giving a simple answer.
Then he decided that a little honesty might be more useful than another lie.
"It's my class."
The man's expression changed slightly.
"Your class?"
"I'm an herbalist."
The boy, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, suddenly looked interested.
"An herbalist?"
Adam glanced at him.
"Yes."
"Can you make potions?"
"Some."
"Can you heal people?"
"Sometimes."
"Can you make a potion that makes someone stronger?"
"That depends on the ingredients."
The boy opened his mouth to ask another question, but his father placed a hand on his shoulder.
"That's enough."
The boy closed his mouth, though he clearly had more questions.
The man looked back at Adam.
"An herbalist is an unusual class for a conscript."
"So I've been told."
"And yet you seem more interested in collecting ingredients than learning to fight."
Adam shrugged.
"I can learn to fight. That doesn't mean I should ignore the things I'm good at."
For several seconds, the man said nothing.
Then he smiled.
It wasn't a large smile, but it was the first time Adam had seen him look genuinely pleased.
"That's a sensible answer."
Adam wasn't sure whether to take that as praise.
The man extended his hand again.
"Perhaps we'll have another chance to talk. There are a few things I'd like to ask you about your class."
Adam shook his hand.
"I'll be happy to answer what I can."
"Good."
The man stepped aside.
Adam and Faya left the tent with their equipment.
Neither spoke until they had walked some distance away.
Finally, Faya looked at him.
"You told him you're an herbalist."
"He asked."
"You could have lied."
"Then he might have asked me to demonstrate something I couldn't do."
Faya thought about that.
"That's true."
Adam adjusted the strap of his bag.
"Besides, being an herbalist isn't a weakness. I just need to figure out how to use it properly."
He looked toward the training grounds.
Soldiers were practicing with wooden swords. Others were running laps around the camp, carrying heavy packs. Their instructors shouted orders, correcting mistakes and demanding that they move faster.
Adam watched them for a moment.
He was not looking forward to tomorrow.
He was also not going to let the military decide what his entire future would look like.
He had a legendary class.
He had a system.
And he had a second chance at life.
He intended to make the most of it.
For now, that meant surviving military training.
After that, he would begin working on his real plans.
Adam had no intention of remaining an ordinary soldier for the rest of his life.