Xers had been assigned to the support lines of the army, carrying supplies back and forth. Amid the chaos of screams and clashing steel, the fifteen-year-old whispered to himself:
"Why do I deserve this? What did I do?"
Exhausted, Xers returned to the camp that night. He held his pearl bracelet, fiddling with it as he recalled his childhood. He wanted to escape this life, but he had no choice. Eventually, he fell asleep.
The camp where Xers and his group stayed was small, isolated, and miserable. That night, a fourteen-year-old boy was being harassed by two older recruits, around seventeen or eighteen years old.
— "Our word rules here, little brat!"— "Hah! Look at his rags! What a joke!"
The other soldiers burst into laughter.
— "Hahahaha! Why would they even draft this fool?!"
The boy tried to resist.
— "You can't talk to me like that! We all come from the same place!"
The bullies only sneered.
— "Hah! Did you hear him? He thinks he's our equal!"— "Call Oli! Let's have him teach this runt a lesson!"
A tall, broad-shouldered youth around seventeen emerged from his tent. His name was Oli.
— "What's going on this time?" he muttered, seeing the boy.
— "Hey, Oli! This brat said your butt is huge and mocked you!"— "N-No! I never said that!"— "Don't lie! Everyone here heard it!"
The camp quickly turned into a chorus of false witnesses.
— "Yeah, he said it!"
Oli's face twisted in rage.
— "So you think you can mock me, you little shit?!"
He lunged at the boy and began punching him. The boy cried out, his voice waking Xers from his sleep. Through a tear in the tent, Xers saw the beating. Quietly, he stepped outside. A crowd had gathered, jeering while the boy was humiliated.
Xers leaned toward a boy beside him.
— "Who is that kid? Why are they beating him?"— "His name is Ahez. His parents died in the war five years ago. He grew up an orphan and was forced into the army. The kid's had a rough life."
Hearing this, Xers pushed through the crowd and helped Ahez up. Oli glared at him.
— "What's this? You want a beating too?"— "No… I don't want to fight you. I'm scared of you. But as a human being, I can't just stand by and watch."— "Hah! Look at this guy, playing the teacher! Let me show you your place!"
Oli swung a heavy punch, but Xers dodged.
— "W-What? You mocking me, brat?!"
He tried to kick, but Xers caught his leg and slammed him down.
— "I'm only doing my duty as a human."
One of the bullies behind Oli leapt at Xers, pinning him to the ground and pummeling him.
— "Take this! And this! Die, you piece of trash!"
Xers couldn't defend himself. His nose was broken, blood streaming down his face. Just then, the boy beside him earlier rushed in and kicked the bully off.
— "He's not alone!" he shouted.
The camp fell silent. The boy helped Xers and Ahez to their feet. Xers wiped the blood from his face and extended his hand.
— "I'm Xers. Thend Xers."— "Nice to meet you. I'm Triyasu Hanken."
That night, the three boys stayed together, sharing their stories.
Ahez lowered his head, then spoke with a trembling voice.
— "I was born in 544, in Ingra village of Kurotsume. My family was wealthy, and I grew up in comfort—private tutors, carriage rides, games. I had everything.
Then war came. My father was sent to the front. Twenty days later, news of his death arrived. My mother, my brother, and I were shattered. Our only income was my father's land. Within a week, we were poor. At least we still had a home.
But one day, a Ranshi mage hurled a fireball at our house. It collapsed. My mother died that night. Only my brother and I survived.
I tried working as an apprentice at a carpenter's shop, sleeping on staircases. Then the village was raided, and the shop was shut down. For three years, I labored in the fields. A kind farmer took care of us.
Then the second war broke out. They conscripted me by force. I begged them not to, since it would leave my brother alone. They didn't care. They dragged me here.
Now I don't even know where my brother is. On my first night, I was bullied. But you two came to help me… Thank you."
The camp was frozen in silence.
Hanken's expression darkened as he began his tale.
— "I was born in 539, in Uba village of the Kurotsume clan. We were neither rich nor poor. But the day I was born, people called it a miracle.
A sorcerer passing by felt an enormous spiritual pressure. Following it, he found me in my mother's arms. He shouted, 'There is a sahir here! Who is it?'
After some testing, they realized the pressure was coming from me. At birth, my power was almost equal to an A-tier mask. I was taken to a research facility. Days there, nights at home with my family.
When the war of 549 came, the facility was destroyed. I returned to my family, but they were no longer the same. My parents fought constantly. One day, my father was simply gone. They had separated, and I never knew why.
By 554, soldiers came and forced me into the army, just like you. And that's how I ended up here."
The three of them sat in silence, realizing their fates were bound by suffering. That night, they decided: they would not be alone anymore.
The loud clang of the commander's bell woke the camp. Everyone put on their gear, ate their rations, and lined up to be deployed.
One of the bullies from last night leaned toward Xers and hissed:
— "It's not over between us. Watch your back. You'll regret crossing us."
Xers smirked.
— "Hmph. Says the one who took two of my punches yesterday."
The boy shouted back—
— "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK—"
But the commander's voice thundered over them.
— "ATTENTION! Today you'll be sent to the San Maero front. This time, you'll face a real battle!"
The recruits shivered with fear.
— "Don't panic!" the commander barked. "You'll be stationed only 250 meters from the battlefield. That's all."
Relieved, the army began its march toward the San Maero plains.