The morning sun spilled through the narrow glass window of the barracks, its golden rays slicing through the dust-filled air. Valen rubbed his eyes, the wooden bunk creaking beneath him as the distant clamor of recruits echoed outside. The lingering scent of iron and sweat served as a reminder: this was no peaceful village morning, but the harsh dawn of a soldier's life.
Shaking off the remnants of his dream, Valen rose and stepped outside the barracks. Groups of recruits were already gathered, finishing their breakfast. He decided to wash his face first before joining them.
"Valen!!"
A familiar soft voice called out from the distance. Valen turned and saw Velichia running toward him, her golden hair catching the morning light.
"I-I thought you were gone! Y-your bed was empty!" she said, panting heavily.
"A-ah, then why did you run all the way here? You'll tire yourself out before training even starts." Valen handed her a flask of water.
"Gulp… gulp… gulp… pah! W-well, I just wanted to have breakfast together," Velichia admitted with a shy smile.
"…Alright then. Let's go."
They headed to the mess hall, took their bowls, and examined the menu.
"Hmmm, what should we eat?" Valen muttered, scanning the pots.
"That soup looks delicious," Velichia said, pointing at a steaming cauldron.
They each took a portion and went outside, searching for a quiet spot. Valen noticed a staircase in the corner of the barracks.
"What about there?" he suggested.
"Mhm, perfect. Not too crowded," Velichia agreed.
Sitting side by side, they cooled their bowls before tasting the soup. Steam curled into the crisp morning air as they took slow sips.
"You know," Valen began with a teasing smile, "I'm surprised you'd choose something as humble as soup."
"Eh?" Velichia blinked, puzzled.
"I mean, you're a noble, after all."
"Ah… well, my family is only a barony," she replied softly. "There were days when meals were scarce. My mother would always make soup on those nights. It wasn't much… but it was warm, and it brought us together. I guess that's why I chose it."
Valen looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "Even so, you're remarkable. From what I've seen, not many noble daughters could pass the trials as smoothly as you did."
Velichia smiled gently. "Thank you."
Before the moment could linger, an instructor's voice boomed across the yard.
"Alright, recruits! Breakfast is over. Line up!"
The soldiers scrambled to form ranks. The instructor drew his sword and raised his shield, demonstrating on a training dummy.
"First lesson—no matter how weak your enemy looks, never let your guard down!" He slammed his blade against the dummy, each strike ringing sharp. Suddenly, a soldier rushed at him. With effortless precision, the instructor blocked and countered.
"See? Always be alert. Watch your opponent's movements. Wait for their mistake, then—counter!" His shield bashed forward, knocking the attacker aside.
"Now, group of three—step forward!"
Silence. Nobody moved.
Valen took a breath and stepped ahead. "We'll go."
Velichia and Harold quickly followed. Together, they raised their shields and advanced on the dummy. Their blades struck again and again, straw scattering with each blow. Then a soldier sparring with them shifted his attack toward Valen's side.
Valen remembered the lesson—observe, guard, counter. He parried, pushed back, and Harold followed suit. Velichia, however, was driven back under heavy strikes.
"Velichia! You can do it!" Valen shouted.
"Hyaaah!" Velichia cried, parrying fiercely. Catching her opponent off guard, she slammed her shield forward. The soldier stumbled, losing balance. Velichia didn't hesitate—her blade came down, forcing him to yield.
Cheers erupted from the other recruits. The instructor smirked, satisfied.
By the end of the day, their first training session had ended in success.
---
That afternoon, Valen washed the sweat from his face at a well. Nearby, Velichia was doing the same.
"Ah, it's you, Valen," she said, brushing damp hair from her cheek.
"Yeah. Feels good to wash up after training, doesn't it?"
She nodded, then asked casually, "Your bed is at the corner, right?"
"Eh? Yeah, why?"
"…No reason. See you later, Valen!" she said quickly before walking off.
Left puzzled, Valen made his way to the Temple of Wisdom and Luck. Inside, he tossed a silver coin into the offering bowl and knelt in prayer.
"Dear Almighty, ruler of this world and the heavens above… with your knowledge, guide my every step."
As he rose, a priest in his forties approached and patted his shoulder.
"You're one of the new recruits under the Duke of Gooserian, aren't you? You are the hope of the people. May your path be smooth, young man."
Valen bowed slightly, humbled by the priest's words. The old man continued with a solemn tone.
"I know that you will soon march against the Ionburg armies. I also understand why Duke Gooserian opposes Ionburg's coronation, and why this civil war cannot be avoided. For that reason, I shall grant you my blessing. May fortune always shine upon you."
Surprised, Valen lowered his head once more before bidding farewell. As he strolled down the city road, he caught sight of a tavern—people inside were laughing, drinking, and sharing joy with their friends. The sight gave him a strange sense of longing, his thoughts bolder than before.
Then, he remembered that the new recruits were supposed to gather for dinner in the cafeteria. Picking up his pace, Valen hurried back to the barracks.
---
Not long after, he spotted Velichia standing near the entrance of the barrack, her face filled with worry. Curious, Valen approached.
When their eyes met, Velichia waved her hand frantically. Valen, thinking she was calling someone behind him, turned around—only to find no one there. Before he could question it, Velichia ran toward him.
"Huff… huff… Why did you disappear so suddenly? I was worried sick! Come on, get inside already. We're having dinner together in the cafeteria."
Confused, Valen could only follow.
Why would Velichia, a baron, be waiting for someone like me? he thought.
Still lost in thought, he almost froze in place until Velichia grabbed his hand.
"Don't just stand there, let's go!" she said, dragging him inside.
The cafeteria was packed with recruits, noise and chatter filling the air. Together they lined up at the counter, asked for soup, bread, and water, and then found a seat in the corner. The food, though simple, was surprisingly delicious. Valen devoured it eagerly, forgetting his surroundings until Velichia chuckled softly at the sight.
The lively mood carried on as the recruits shared stories and laughter—until the instructor barged in.
"Hmm, seems like you're all enjoying yourselves here. Hahaha!" His booming laugh filled the room before his expression turned stern. "Enough. Listen carefully. Tonight, when the ninth bell tolls, you will all be in your beds. Anyone caught awake will face heavy penalties. That's all. Now—carry on."
To everyone's surprise, the instructor even sat down and ordered food for himself. The recruits relaxed again, laughing louder, but Valen's face turned grim. He seemed troubled.
"Um, Valen?" Velichia leaned closer. "Is something wrong?"
He didn't respond, lost in thought, until she called out more sharply.
"Oi, Valen! Are you even listening?"
"Ah—yes, I heard you."
"Then why didn't you answer me?"
"Well… you heard what the instructor said, right? We have to sleep right after the ninth bell. But… no matter what I do, I can't sleep that early. I don't even know why."
Velichia tilted her head, then suddenly smiled. "So, you have trouble sleeping, huh? I heard that drinking warm milk can help. If you want, I'll get some for you."
Valen blinked in surprise. "Really? That would help a lot. Thank you."
She got up, and before long returned with a cup of warm milk. Valen drank it to the last drop, then thanked her once more before heading to his bed. Soon after, sleep overcame him.
---
The next morning, Valen woke up before anyone else. Velichia and Harold were still asleep when he carefully slipped out of the barrack.
Outside, the instructor was already waiting.
"Oh? Awake already, huh?"
"Yes. Honestly, I can't believe it myself."
"Well, then you're lucky. Otherwise your head would've exploded from this."
Before Valen could ask, the instructor struck an iron plate with a heavy club. The deafening clang echoed through the barracks, jolting everyone awake.
---
As the sun rose higher, the recruits stood in line with their gear. Some looked nervous, others still half-asleep.
"This is your final day of training!" the instructor barked. "Tomorrow, you will march to join the army. Today, you'll learn to wield sword and shield properly. Prepare yourselves."
At his command, a group of guards stepped forward with wooden swords painted to shine like steel. The recruits drew their own weapons nervously.
"Begin!"
The clash erupted at once. Shouts, grunts, and the sound of wood striking filled the air. Valen faced off against a guard, his eyes sharp with determination, but the difference in skill was clear. Step by step, he was pushed back.
A strike came from his right, hitting his armor and knocking him to his knees. Gritting his teeth, Valen braced for pain—but realized he was unharmed. His armor had protected him. Before he could rise, the instructor blew the whistle.
"Pathetic! These are only wooden swords painted with oil to shine like steel, and yet you tremble as if they were real. How do you expect to face the Duke's enemies like this?"
Shame spread across the recruits.
"That's enough. Rest. Tonight, keep your armor close at hand. Never let your guard down, even in sleep. Understood?"
"Yes, sir…" came the weak reply.
Velichia rushed to Valen's side. "Are you alright? You weren't hurt, were you?"
"I'm fine," he answered with a small smile. "Just a little shocked by the sudden simulation."
"Thank goodness… Don't push yourself too hard, okay? Ah—how about we wash up together? There's a public bath nearby."
Valen hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. Let me grab a clean tunic first."
"Don't be slow!" Velichia teased.
Together, they walked through the summer heat toward the bathhouse. Along the way, Velichia glanced at a couple sitting in a café. Valen noticed.
"Do you… want to go in there later?"
Her face reddened instantly. "W-what do you mean?"
"The café," Valen said plainly. "Do you want to eat there?"
Velichia stole another glance at the place, then whispered, "If… if you want, then… fine."
Valen smiled. "After the bath, then."
She nodded shyly.
---
The bath was nearly empty, so Valen washed quickly and changed into his clean tunic. When he stepped outside, Velichia was already waiting, gazing up at a flock of birds soaring across the sky.
"Wow, you're done already?" Valen teased.
"Eh? Wait—what do you mean by that? I washed properly, you know!" she stammered.
Valen laughed, which only made her puff her cheeks in mock annoyance.
"Hmph!"
"Hey, don't be mad… Come on, let's head to the café."
That brightened her mood instantly. "Right… let's go."
The café was warm and quiet, the corner table perfect for the two of them. A waitress approached with a polite smile.
"What would you like to order, sir?"
Valen scanned the menu. "I'll have the rabbit stew."
"And you, miss?"
"I'll take the chicken… and wine."
Valen raised a brow. "Wine, huh? That sounds rather noble."
Her cheeks flushed. "W-what's that supposed to mean? It's just chicken and wine!"
"Haha, fine, fine."
Soon, the food arrived, and the two enjoyed their meal in peace, the orange glow of the setting sun painting the sky outside.
---
When they returned to the barracks, a guard stopped them.
"Where have you two been? The others are already eating dinner."
"Ah, sorry sir. We already ate outside," Valen explained.
The guard frowned. "Tch. Do as you like. But get inside now."
Inside, Velichia flopped onto her bed with a content sigh. "Today was wonderful. I'm so happy."
Valen sat on his bunk, his expression more cautious. "Velichia, keep your sword and shield close tonight. I have a bad feeling."
She tilted her head but obeyed. "Alright… goodnight, Valen."
Valen laid down, slowly drifting to sleep.
---
Midnight.
The barrack doors burst open with a thunderous crash. Valen's eyes snapped open. He seized his sword and shield instantly, Velichia already armored at his side. The other recruits, however, scrambled in confusion—unprepared.
The guards stormed in, overwhelming the recruits in seconds. Only Valen and Velichia held their ground. Valen even managed to slip out a window before the chaos ended.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Wonderful," the instructor's voice echoed. "As expected. Valen has the heart of a soldier. He never let his guard down. The rest of you? Pathetic. If this were real, you'd all be corpses before reaching your gear."
The recruits lowered their heads in shame.
"From this day forward," the instructor continued, "Valen is promoted to Sergeant. The order comes from the Duke himself. You will take command of five hundred recruits and march west to join Captain Alphonse of the second army."
The announcement sparked anger. Harold stepped forward, spitting at Valen's feet.
"Me? Follow a peasant like him? Never. I'll serve directly under the Duke."
He stormed out of the barrack.
The instructor's eyes narrowed. "Anyone else unwilling to follow Sergeant Valen will be branded traitor. The rest of you—prepare to march."
---
Valen mounted his horse, Velichia riding beside him, the recruits forming ranks behind. The city gates opened to the dark horizon.
And thus began the journey of a peasant—now a sergeant—whose rise had only just begun.