4th Company, 10th Platoon, 1st Squad (3)

"What's a squad competition?"

"It's a training that only our company does."

"Only our company?"

"That's right. Squads within the same platoon compete against each other in a tournament."

There wasn't this kind of training method in the old days.

It seems to be a method devised by Company Commander Leonel Jorge.

If it's just for fun, it's totally useless. Even if the intention is to stimulate competition, the efficiency is questionable.

But—

If the purpose is to personally assess every member's skills and then to reassign them,
To patch up the weaknesses in the ten-squad, centurion, and 1000-man commander's echelons,
It's not a bad idea.

Company Commander Leonel Jorge.

He needs to be studied a bit more.

I've always wondered why I was assigned to the 1st Squad, which is basically a meat shield unit, even after he'd seen my real skills.

"Squad leader, does that mean all ten platoons in the 4th Company are participating in this squad competition? Next month?"

"That's right."

"A tournament with ten teams sounds a little odd though."

Deputy-squad leader Leonard Schuler tilted his head and looked at me.

"Do you know what a tournament is?"

"Yes."

"Then did you realize there's an odd number of participants for matching up?"

"Yes."

"You're a smart one. That's right. For a round of 16, six squads are missing, and for a quarterfinal, two squads are left over."

Was that a compliment, just for figuring out the numbers?
Then what on earth is the level of the rest of the squad members...

Leonard Schuler muttered to himself in a voice only I could hear.

"Haaa... remembering how much trouble I went through explaining this to the squad leader..."

His voice was as faint as the wind rustling past my ears, but I heard it clearly.
I turned and looked at Squad Leader Cliff Shannon, sitting under a tree patting his belly.

Is that fat filling up his brain as well as his stomach?

"So we do a stamina test first. The two squads that drop out there can't even participate in the squad competition."

That's not a bad way to do it.

Lisa Fox, 1st Senior, came over and joined the conversation.

"It was our first time entering the squad competition last time."

As she leaned in close, she whispered right in my ear.
She's not tall for a soldier, but she is obviously taller than I am at the moment.
Lisa Fox's hair swung and, surprisingly, gave off a clean and pleasant scent.

"We had to force that belly-patting squad leader to lose weight just to barely pass the stamina test."

"What?"

What?

I rarely get surprised, but what I just heard did the trick.

That was after losing weight?

Whether he realizes people are talking about him or not, the squad leader is still patting his belly.

Didn't he just complain that the food tasted bad?

The bowl next to him was scraped clean as if it had been washed.

"So how did it go?"

I was a little surprised at the unexpected ability shown by 2nd Senior Bier Nolan.

Setting aside the squad leader, the squad leader or the 1st Senior should be even stronger than Bier Nolan, so they shouldn't have dropped in the quarterfinals.

"We lost miserably. Right in the first round."

Oh.

So this is a squad that truly knows no hope.

The squad leader clenched his fist.

"This time, for sure!"

Are they aiming for victory?

"We're at least not going to go down miserably!"

Oh, their goal wasn't even to win a single match?

* * *

Personal training time.

Along with Bastian, I'm running my twentieth lap around the parade ground.

One of the things we do every evening.

Still got thirty laps to go.

"Evan."

"Yeah?"

"I've been curious about something."

Bastian.

Looks like my eye didn't lie.

Running twenty laps around the parade ground isn't even making him short of breath anymore.

"What is it?"

"Well, for me, I always dreamed of being a military officer, but you said you joined the military to get stronger faster, right?"

"That's right."

"But is there a reason you picked the 4th Legion, 3rd Battalion? This isn't a war zone, and there don't seem to be any troublesome nobles nearby."

"There's going to be a war here soon."

"A war?"

"Yeah. Remember that time we climbed up onto the roof of the Red Eyes Southern Branch?"

"Of course. The time we snuck up there to look for requests."

"That day, I heard something about the Romina Kingdom."

"Romina Kingdom? That's the country on our southeastern border, right? But it's so much smaller than ours. There's no way they'd attack us first. Oh! Are we the ones invading?"

Bastian's knowledge is growing, but his imagination is weak.

He has a long way to go for a military officer.

"No, Romina is going to invade here soon."

"A smaller kingdom attacking a larger one? Why would they fight a war they can't win?"

"It's a classic move for when the royal authority weakens and control falters. It shifts public attention outward and lets them send troublemaking nobles off to the front as a double-edged strategy."

"Shift attention? Would someone really start a war just for that?"

"That's what war is."

Wars don't always start for grand reasons.

While soldiers at the front lines risk their lives and wield steel,
Most of the time, those in power above are just betting enormous stakes in a chess game.

"That's hard to grasp. So what did you hear on the Red Eyes roof?"

"They said the Romina Kingdom's king doesn't have long to live, and the nobles want to enthrone the youngest prince."

"How does that lead to war with us? That's their own royal family business."

At this point, he should be able to follow the logic.

Looks like Bastian needs to work on developing his critical thinking.

"And the crown prince is not the type to just sit back and watch. It's not confirmed yet, but there's a rumor going around that the current king is dying slowly because the crown prince poisoned him."

"What! He's letting his own father die?"

"It's just a rumor. But sometimes rumors are scarier than truth."

"Hard to believe. Anyway, you're saying war will break out in this region soon, and that's why you signed up for this unit?"

"That's right. Don't tell anyone else, though."

"Why, because it's too much of a secret?"

No.

"Because people will just think I'm talking nonsense."

* * *

The 1st battalion commander shouted.

"Stop talking nonsense!"

4th Legion Headquarters, conference room.

Regular meeting of commanders, company and above.

The 2nd battalion commander raised his voice as well.

"Nonsense? The situation in the Romina Kingdom is clear! The king of Romina is on his deathbed! We need to request reinforcements for the royal forces!"

The legion commander slowly shook his head.

"There's still heavy fighting on the eastern border. On what grounds would we request additional troops?"

"There's really not much time left! A war is about to—"

This time, the 3rd battalion commander cut off the 2nd.

The 3rd Battalion is the unit Evan and Bastian belong to.

"Even if war breaks out, the opponent is only the Romina Kingdom. Why would we ask for more troops against such a petty country? We'd only become a laughingstock among the royal ministers."

The 1st battalion commander nodded.

"That's true. It would only hurt the reputation of us commanders gathered here."

The 2nd battalion commander slammed his hand on the desk in frustration.

"If things go on like this, we'll lose many soldiers! If we reinforce now, we can cut our losses!"

"But what if war doesn't break out? If we pull the troops meant for the eastern front and nothing happens, who's responsible? Do you have certain proof that war is coming?"

"... Not exactly. But we can't just sit still! I'm sure war will break out before long!"

"If you're so worried about war, focus on reinforcing 2nd Battalion's discipline. I've heard rumors discipline there is falling apart these days."

"Who's spreading such groundless rumors?"

"Groundless? Aren't you the one who's been spreading the rumor that there's going to be a war soon?"

"Are you using 'you' to refer to me? Watch your language—this is the headquarters conference room!"

* * *

Weekend.

Deputy-squad leader Leonard Schuler stormed off toward the shade in front of the squad barracks.

"Squad leader! We can't just sit around! We need to train for the squad combat!"

"Aww, why would you train on the weekend? Let's rest on the weekend. Can't even get leave anymore. Gah, pisses me off. Why is it suddenly no one can take leave?"

"It's because of the emergency standby order for the entire 4th Legion."

"That's why I'm pissed. Didn't the 2nd battalion commander request that? Seriously, what war on this peaceful southern front? Emergency standby, my ass."

"That's not the point, sir. At this rate, we'll lose miserably in the squad competition again."

Squad Leader Cliff Shannon, who'd been lounging in the shade, looked up.

"No? Not gonna lose."

"That's what I mean. So we need to train too. Just look! Other squads started training from the morning for the competition!"

Squad Leader Cliff Shannon closed his eyes again and leaned his head against the tree.

"Then, like last time, we can just flunk out at the stamina test. That way we avoid the tournament and getting beat up miserably."

"Squad leader! Are you planning to stay in 1st Squad forever? We should get noticed by the company commander and move to a different squad!"

"Why bother? Is there a squad easier than this one? As long as we show up for basic drills, that's all. We're the 1st Squad, you get it? That number means we're the most important squad."

Deputy-squad leader Leonard Schuler replied, sounding exasperated.

"That's because when war breaks out, we'll be the meat shields!"

Squad Leader Cliff Shannon replied without even opening his eyes.

"Hey, Leonard. What war would break out down here on the southern front? Also, civilians don't know what 1st Squad does or what a meat shield is. They just see a small number and think it's the elite. It'll actually help you more when you discharge. Can't you see what I'm getting at?"

Deputy-squad leader Leonard Schuler let out a deep sigh.

The squad leader obviously saw his time in the military as just a line on his resume.

Of course, I'm not planning to grow old and die in the army either, but staying in the ignored and despised 1st Squad isn't my plan, either.

And if a war really does break out?

Then it's over for real.

If fighting comes, the infantry 1st Squad can't survive.

But whether the pig in front of me understands this or not, his breathing was starting to deepen and even out.

Ssshaaa, ssshaaa.

"Are you falling asleep again?"

Squad Leader Cliff Shannon lazily waved his palm, annoyed.

At that moment—

"Squad leader. Are we training for the squad competition or not?"

A fresh, youthful voice piped up.

It was the new recruit, Evan Dagon.

'Haaa. Even this clueless newbie is stepping up and asking to train for the squad competition.'

There's no helping it.

If the squad leader refuses, they'd just have to train without him.

Deputy-squad leader Leonard Schuler set his palm on top of Evan Dagon's head.

"Yeah. Let's do it, training."

Leonard Schuler ruffled Evan Dagon's hair with his palm and then headed back toward the barracks.

"1st Squad! Everyone out! Training time!"