1

Yes, three years since we made it out safe and sound.

Just seven of us left in the pilot course. Four of them are from our little group of four, and the other three look like they’re the promising ones picked from the second squad.

In the classroom, packed with fewer members than before, Instructor Gazul stood before the teacher’s desk, going on with his explanation about the urban expedition just a week away.

Anyone here ever slept out under the stars before?

Only me and Rayla raised our hands to the instructor’s question. Fair enough—everyone else was noble-born. Their parents wouldn’t let them do something like that. Hell, some of them probably hadn’t even left this town before.

And me? I’ve only camped out a few times since coming to this town—nothing serious. Most of the cooking, watch duty, that kind of thing? The Armunale crew handled it all. I helped a little, sure—but not enough to brag about.

So really, only Rayla’s the one with actual experience sleeping rough.

“On the real battlefield, roughing it’s standard. That’s why I want you all to live it. To feel what it’s like—how to move, how to use your gear, what watch duty really feels like. If you show up to a real fight and say, ‘Oh, this is my first time camping out,’ you’re just gonna be a nuisance.”

Yeah, there’s no better way to learn than by doing. Even if you’ve studied every line in a book, not every tool’s gonna be easy to use just because you’ve read about it.

And yeah, you can start a fire with a simple spark-magic, but keeping a campfire going? That takes chopping wood and feeding it in, over and over. Makes you feel just how much sweat and muscle it takes, you know?

"Duration’s set—next week’s beginning, about three weeks. Split into two groups, each riding in a wagon. Assignments—how about pairing up the usual bunch? You know, the ones who’ve been hanging around together all along?"

The instructor’s well aware the second group’s barely trying. The others—Rayla and the rest—are slowly getting the hang of manual controls, and now the gap between them and us just keeps widening. Sure, they passed the year and are still in class, but it’s half-hearted. Probably the same every year.

Anyway, we’ll just stick with our usual crew, rough it out under the stars, and head toward our destination.

And the destination—well, that’s—

"About a week there and back—destination is Jakarta. We’ll check in on the frontline knights, take a look around the maintenance setup."

Jakarta’s a big city on the eastern edge of the kingdom. Got factories churning out mana fluid—Magia Liquid—and storage tanks for concentrated mana fluid—Hyimagia Liquid—plus full-service Armunale maintenance facilities too.

Head further east, pass a few small towns and villages, and you hit the buffer zone between us and the Overd Empire. Beyond that’s the Overd Empire itself.

The buffer zone is where most of the fighting happens. Jakarta’s never a battlefield, but that’s where frontline Armunale units come back regularly for repairs and resupply.

Here, you can definitely get a feel for the war zone without risking much.

“After the tour, we’ll ride back to this town in the same wagon. If everything goes smoothly, it’ll wrap up in just over two weeks. Any leftover time’ll be a holiday—but if we fall behind, I’ll cram in every missed lesson, no exceptions.”

He says it, flashing a smirk. The grin freezes everyone’s expressions.

Right—already packed full of drills and study, adding more would probably kill us. So we’ll give it everything we’ve got.

“Any questions? No? Then that’s it. Everyone, take this seriously.”

“Yes!”

Well then, I’d better figure out what to do with my free time over there.

Pulling Jakarta’s guidebook from my bag, I start pondering where to go.

Travel vibes, right? Yeah, it’s a school trip.

Time flies, and suddenly it’s departure day. The gathering time is at sunrise, but I’ve already arrived a little before that, standing in front of the town gate.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. You’re second today—unusual for the one who’s usually first.”

“Sir, Eld’s only early when Armunale’s involved.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Steady as ever…”

By the time I reach the gate, Rayla and three instructors are already waiting, and both carriages are ready. The horses haven’t been untied yet, and luggage is stacked beside the carriages.

“Is this our stuff?”

“That’s right. Once everyone’s here, we’ll check it, then you’ll load it yourselves. From there, it’s all training.”

“Ah, I see.”

Even if you’re in the Armunale squad and got a support maid, you still gotta help load the gear yourself. So you’ll learn how to stack it, how to secure it—just by trying it out, I guess. That’s better than just listening to explanations, really.

As the sun crept closer to the horizon, the other students started showing up one by one.

Just as it was getting near the meeting time, Batis and Leon appeared.

Batis’s hair was a mess—no sign of his usual confident, hero-like swagger. And Leon looked like he’d been dragged through a ditch.

“Morning. What’s wrong?”

“This idiot overslept. First time ever leaving town, you know? Got too excited to sleep.”

“Kid, really.” “Such a child.”

“Ugh… well, we made it on time, didn’t we? That’s all that matters.”

I wouldn’t have been late if I hadn’t come to get you, huh?

Ah, so that’s why Leon was so worn out—had to shake this idiot awake and get him ready. Being childhood friends is a real pain in the neck. If she were a girl, we’d be in some sappy romance by now. Too bad both of them are boys.

Speaking of childhood friends—how’s Ange doing these days? I told her I’d be back as soon as possible, but it’s already been two years. She might’ve found someone else by now. She’s seventeen, after all. Could even be married by now.

Ugh… thinking about it makes my chest feel all fuzzy. Come on, I can’t just pretend I don’t care. I mean, I *was* the one telling myself to think about the future, and now I’m the one freaking out about her dating someone else. Hah… what a joke.

I clutched Ange’s pendant tight and looked up at the sky toward the village.

“Eld, what’s wrong?”

“My childhood friend— I was just wondering if she’s doing alright. Nothing big.”

“Ange, right? You never write her letters?”

In this world, there’s no official mail carrier. You pay a traveling merchant who happens to pass through the village to slip your letter in with their goods.

“Wrote one once, I did. But the moment I faced a blank sheet, I got hit with sleepiness… like a hammer.”

I’ve tried writing to my family, to Ange, more than once. But after a long day of class, after sword drills, after studying till my bones ached—I’d stare at that blank paper, and boom, drowsiness’d hit me like a sack of flour. Always ended up asleep on the spot.

By the third time, I gave up on letters altogether.

"Sure, getting back to the dorm makes me feel like a sack of flour. Writing letters’s probably tough, huh."

"Plus, finding a merchant who shows up once a month—here in this town—is no easy task."

"True, that’s hard. But don’t you worry about that kid?"

"Who knows. She’s got more energy than she looks, so maybe she’s actually here."

Ange’s been saying stuff like “I’m not the same person now” right before leaving. Could she really be here…? Nah, couldn’t be. Hey—

"Ha, then introduce her to me."

"Just kidding. Don’t take it seriously."

"All gathered, then. Let me begin the explanation."

Gazul instructor called us back, cutting the talk short.

Gazul instructor confirmed we were all present, then started explaining the loading procedure. After wrapping up the explanation, it was time for practice.

"Alright, start. If you don’t get it, ask us."

Alright, then let’s get started. Wake up, Batis?

Yeah, I’m awake—Rayla’s ice works wonders…

I’d told Rayla to hit Batis with a frost spell, even though he’d been half-asleep since the instructor started explaining. Just a tiny ice pellet, about the size of a pebble, shot straight into the back of his neck.

But wow—worked like a charm.

Alright, let’s load up then.

First, we’ll stash the stuff we don’t need much.

Those are Armunale maintenance tools.

This time, we’re moving with the actual gear issued to us—so we’ve got the full set of Armunale repair tools, plus writing tools for the mobility calculation device—Sense Board, whatever you want to call it.

None of it’s going to be touched until we reach camp or the base, so we just shove it all way in the back.

Next come the rations—water barrels and such, left easy to open, with non-perishable veggies, bread, salted meat, and cooking gear packed tight around them.

On the opposite side, we stash the tent gear, extra firewood, stones for the fire pit—lastly, we slide the weapons into a spot where they can be grabbed fast.

We tie everything down with straps, pack things snug between each other, just to keep them from flopping around during the jolt. Takes about thirty minutes to finish.

"Kinda tiring, this."

"Loads of heavy stuff. Didn’t know the tent frame was this weighty."

"Water’s everywhere. That’s a full week’s worth—plus extras, right?"

Actually loading up all this stuff for a one-way trip—wow, that’s a lot. Water’s the first thing that hits you. Two full barrels, sloshing over the brim. Just that alone weighs a ton. Took three strong men to lift it—honestly, I’d rather not do it again. Wish we had a forklift.

Food’s another story. We’re not picking up supplies along the way, so we’ve got to stretch what’s already in the wagon and make it last until we reach town.

Normally, there’d be plenty of villages and towns between here and Jakarta—no need to cram everything in. But the closer we get to the border, the sparser the villages get, and finding food becomes a real gamble. So we’re keeping things tight, rationing what we’ve got, just in case.

The tents are made of sturdy iron pipes—won’t break easy. We’ve got two kinds: one big enough for the whole crew to huddle around for meetings, and another that’s just barely fits four people. Like it’s holding its breath trying not to burst.

And if you stuffed in the gear and weapons, there wasn’t much room left inside the carriage. Just enough for two people to squeeze onto the cargo like makeshift seats.

“Here we are.”

“Right. They’re a few short on numbers, so they’re lagging a bit. We’ll head out once they’re ready.”

“Got it.”

The other group, made of three, looked like they were struggling with the loading. Less stuff, sure—but what they had was heavy, all right.

After about ten minutes, the second group finished loading up.

Instructors checked each one, made sure everything was in order. Both groups passed inspection. Only then did we finally get moving.

“Finally made it to Jakarta.”

The town’s about the same size as Fortran. As a major city, it’s surrounded by solid outer walls, just like Fortran—thick, sturdy, turned into a fortress.

Seven days later, in the evening. Together with the second group, we arrived at Jakarta without so much as a scratch. Basically, Layla—experienced in camping and cooking—was in charge, and we followed her orders. Turns out, that was the right move.

Her food tasted good. Her instructions were sharp. No one was left twiddling their thumbs.

We’d planned to use up just about all the ingredients by tomorrow, leaving a little room to spare.

Honestly, if it had just been the three of us men… I’m not much of a cook myself, and those two were all full of themselves, going on about “cooking’s for cooks, that’s what cooking is” like some kind of fancy quote. What kind of excuse is that? Like they’d pulled a line straight from a spicy curry joke. Pulling out nobleman talk just when it counts, huh.

Other than that, nothing went wrong. Everything went exactly as planned.

Truth be told, there wasn’t any chance for trouble to begin with. This is the main road from the capital city all the way to Fortran and then on to Jakarta—big cities linked by constant trade. Merchants come and go every day. That’s why patrols are tight, and every thief or wild dangerous beast has been driven out clean.

As long as we don’t stir up trouble ourselves, it’s just a regular trip—nothing more.

“Hm. Right on schedule. Let’s stop by the knight’s headquarters, drop off the carriage, and keep moving along the wall. No need to enter the town.”

“Understood.”

Leon, steering the wagon, guided the horses forward. The instructor on the other side gave the same order—the second group’s carriage followed right behind us.

We kept moving along the wall, and soon another sealed gate came into view. This one was quite a bit wider than the last—wide enough for the Armunale to pass through, no problem.

And standing guard at the gate? Not town guards, no. These looked like soldiers from the kingdom.

“Academy instructor Gazul Ortiga.”

“We’ve been expecting you. Please wait a moment—we’re opening the gate now.”

“Thanks.”

“Opening the gate! Opening the gate!!”

The soldier shouted, and the closed gate slowly began to creak open, groaning like an old bone.

We four just stood there, mouths open, staring.

Inside the gate, it looked like some kind of base. Wide road, rows of hangars, even a building with what looked like a control tower at the far end.

If there’s any difference, it’s that everything’s covered in stone. Still, no doubt it’s reinforced with iron inside, come to think of it.

“Alright, let’s move on.”

“Y-yes.”

Leon urged the horse forward, his face a little tight with nerves.

Inside, not a single house in sight—no, not even a single eatery. Far off, towering pillars stood, with intricate scaffolding wrapped around their bases.

“Is this a military-only zone?”

“That’s right. Just like Fortran, it’s kept separate from the town, a fully isolated base built so Armunale can be inspected, maintained, and repaired all at once.”

“Ah… I see.”

So this is Armunale’s forward base, huh? Then the ones lined up inside that hangar must be the Armunale being prepped for the front lines! No… wait, Armunale’s not exactly in limitless supply. Probably only two or three, at most.

“Your sleeping quarters will be the barracks here.”

“So we can’t leave this base at all?”

“No, I’ll give you access passes later. With those, you can pass through the gate to the town. Can’t keep you locked up like a can of beans, now can I?”

“Thank goodness… that means—”

“Dallying with women is strictly forbidden.”

“Seriously!? Where’s my pent-up frustration supposed to go!?”

“Flush it down the drain.”

Batis clutched his head, and Rayla looked down at him with a frosty glare. Fair enough.

“Alright, here we are. Time to get down.”

The instructor had stopped the carriage in front of the building that had looked like it might be a control tower.

Seems this is the Armunale command facility in Jakarta.

Following the two instructors, we moved forward, the second group in tow.

Everyone we passed was a maintenance worker—no knights in Armunale uniforms in sight. Had they all been stripped down already? But there must be a few left for the base’s defense, right?

I was still thinking that when I bumped into Rayla’s back.

“Hey, watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry.”

Rayla had stopped because the instructors had. So this must be the room we were after.

The instructor knocked, then opened the door.

A dazzling room, carpeted entirely in crimson velvet.

Chandeliers sparkling from the ceiling, fancy sofas, tables—everything in the room looked like it cost a fortune. Mounted animal heads and swords lined the walls, and you couldn’t help but mutter “incredible” no matter where you looked.

But what really had us frozen in place? Not the chandelier. Not the taxidermy. Not even the swords.

It was the muscular, shirtless bodybuilder doing squats right in front of us.