episode_0004

4. Make or Die?

A shabby, dusty barracks filled with stifling air.

Within it, a large group of young men and women gathered, coming into view.

“Hey, where are you from?”

“…Total backwater, but near Aljaha City.”

Drafted, yet mere foolish twenty-year-olds.

The men and women huddled in the barracks began murmuring amongst themselves.

Just as the atmosphere warmed slightly, a large-framed female knight climbed onto the stage.

A knight with muscles so thick it was hard to believe she was a woman.

She glared at us and barked in a booming voice.

“You little runts—!!”

Oh… judging by her intensity and vibe, this wasn’t her first rodeo.

The female knight, exuding the unmistakable aura of a drill instructor, spoke to us.

“Change clothes and fall in, now—!!”

“What kinda….”

“Sound off when I call—!!!”

“““Sound off!!”””

From then on, it was basically a rehash of Korea’s boot camp.

After separating the men’s and women’s barracks and buildings, we were made to gear up.

We were forced into stiff, tough leather armor, adjusting it to fit.

The plate-covered sections were heavier than expected, making it cumbersome as hell.

But the worst part?

We had to train while wearing this thing.

“Begin the run! Soldiers of House Grace don’t collapse from this—!!”

We started running in the heavy, uncomfortable armor.

The constant clanking and poor ventilation made it a nightmare.

“Mealtime.”

“Ugh… sewage stew….”

The food quality was awful, and the only shower arrangement was taking turns washing in a lake.

Naturally, some of the drafted recruits resisted…

But the instructors politely beat them into submission, quelling any complaints.

After a session with the instructors, they came out with meek expressions.

That day, I finally understood what adults meant by “keep your eyes humble.”

Still, one thing surprised me.

This world was medieval, with a low level of civilization—no wonder plagues and pestilence ran rampant.

Yet, House Grace enforced daily showers and served balanced (if vile-tasting) meals with carbs, protein, and fats.

Training, though, was brutal…

“Recruit Cain, defeated!”

“Damn, you really suck at fighting…?”

A girl extended a hand to me.

During sparring sessions with wooden training weapons, even my decent physique couldn’t compensate for my pathetic mana control.

I grabbed her hand and stood.

“It’s the weapon’s fault.”

“Heh… really? We can swap if you want.”

She elbowed my ribs, grinning.

“It’s not the condition—there’s a weapon better than swords or spears.”

“Where? You need a magic staff or something?”

“Close.”

I was thinking of the matchlock gun I’d abandoned mid-crafting.

Ancient China once praised matchlocks as “weapons letting a five-year-old kill Guan Yu.”

If I resumed work on it, maybe I’d stand a chance.

Grumbling, I spent the day painfully aware of my lack of combat talent.

Now that I was stuck here, resistance was futile.

I just wanted to return home in one piece—farm, tinker, study, live quietly.

In a way, getting drafted was a blessing.

Who’d pay attention to someone with the worst performance?

A rural nobody, rock-bottom in training, utterly average aside from being slightly tall.

“Just aim for the middle.”

Humming the military’s unofficial mantra, I headed to wash up with the others.

Freshly cleaned and resting in the barracks to recover, suddenly—the door burst open.

There stood our usually stern, ogre-like female instructor, now pale-faced.

“…Cain! Where’s Recruit Cain?!”

“Here.”

I raised my hand, and she hurried over, yanking me outside.

We strode down the creaky wooden corridor.

Dazed, I stared at her, and she sighed, sensing my confusion.

“Duke Gra—no, Count Grace is here for you.”

“Ah….”

Makes sense.

So, a four-star bigwig just popped into boot camp outta nowhere.

Some things never change, whether Korea or another world—military stays the same.

But why me?

Before I could ask, we reached the lavish training camp office (did they embezzle for this?).

Then, a voice echoed from inside…

“Hmm… so, these desks and items were bought with your salary and gifts?”

“Y-yes….”

“You think I look easy to fool? That I wouldn’t notice cooked books?”

“No—!!”

“Eh, it’s fine. Everyone cuts corners sometimes.”

“Sorry…!!!”

Wow.

Even as a former sergeant, I had to applaud this masterclass in intimidation.

A four-star personally tearing into someone—just imagining it made me shiver.

As the berating continued, the instructor gritted her teeth and knocked.

“Daisy here. Recruit Cain, as requested.”

“Ah, come in.”

Inside sat a blue-haired, sloppily dressed cool beauty.

The dark circles under her eyes gave off serious grad-student vibes…

Her clothes, unbefitting her rank, were plain and worn.

Nearby, a burly battalion commander was folded into a bow, trembling.

The four-star, icy-faced moments ago, beamed at me.

“Welcome, welcome.”

“Yes….”

“This recruit’s a rural commoner, so he doesn’t know noble etiquette….”

The instructor, usually harsh, shielded me—almost fondly.

But the woman, un-noble-like, dusted off her clothes and waved it off.

“Do I look like I uphold noble duties?”

“Well….”

“No need for manners when I skip mine, right?”

The blue-haired beauty fired off unanswerable questions.

Then, she signaled everyone but me to leave.

The commander and instructor bowed deeply and exited.

Now alone—well, plus her and the blue-haired woman—in the office.

“Sit.”

“Okay….”

I slumped onto the sofa across from her.

Surprisingly plush—must’ve been stuffed with wool.

The leather was high-end, but springs and foam would’ve stabilized it….

“Our little genius.”

“Huh…?!”

Did she read my mind? Startled, I gaped at her.

Leaning back, grinning, she spoke.

“Call me Erika. And you’re smart.”

“I mean….”

Goosebumps crawled over me.

An inexplicable dread—like she’d work me to death.

Erika smirked.

“No schooling, rural, no title or reputation—I know.”

“Y-yeah.”

“But I recently bought something interesting.”

She preempted my excuses.

Warily, I stared as she pulled something from her coat—my abandoned thermoelectric generator.

“I don’t care about status—just skill. I want you.”

That bald blacksmith bastard—!

But they say even a tiger attack won’t kill you if you keep your wits.

And Dad always said a man needs principles.

So I met her gaze.

“I refuse.”

“Why?”

“I want a quiet, ordinary life. No power, no greed.”

“Hmmmm….”

She pondered.

Dad, you were right.

Faintly, his thumbs-up shimmered in the air.

“Shame. Then you’ll have to die.”

“…Huh?”

“Your combat scores suck. Without special assignment, you’ll die fast.”

A brutal truth.

“I’m not petty, but Vivian here is.”

“When did I—”

“Look! She’s already plotting to ruin you. Even I can’t stop her.”

Oh, you bitch—!

So it’s “join or jail”? Damn brat noble—!!

Erika’s near-black blue eyes glittered.

Like a predator licking its chops.

“So. Make or die?”

Only one choice remained.

Cursing misguided advice, I looked skyward—but Dad’s image faded.

He was getting dragged off after backtalking Mom.

Ugh… goddammit….