Sorting Rank

Squad deputy-leader Leonard Schuler led his squad members to a deserted clearing in the forest at the edge of the camp.

It was obvious that if they were caught preparing for the inter-squad tournament, others would just sneer and pick a fight with them again.

'Damn it, what kind of squad can't even train openly like everyone else?'

After finding an appropriate spot and coming to a stop, Leonard Schuler had the squad members stand in a single line.

He deliberately tensed his voice.

"From today until the inter-squad tournament, except for scheduled group training, we'll be doing our own squad combat practice."

Squad member Dirk asked a question.

"What about the squad leader?"

Leonard Schuler frowned briefly before continuing.

"The squad leader will join us later. For now, let's start training on our own."

First senior Lisa Fox spoke up.

"Do we even know how we're supposed to train? What's the goal? Just one win?"

"It'd be nice to take a win, but even if we lose, the goal is to at least put up a fight and not go down without a struggle."

Lisa Fox smirked.

"So, you're trying to use us to impress the company commander and get out of the 1st squad?"

Her words bordered on outright insubordination.

Leonard Schuler fixed Lisa Fox with a cold stare.

"Yeah. I wish all of us could get out of the 1st squad, but if your skills aren't up to par, I'll be the one leaving. So don't drag anyone down and focus on training."

Lisa Fox slowly bent at the waist.

Sshk.

She smoothly drew a dagger from inside her thigh holster and flicked the blade with her fingertip.

"Who's dragging anyone down? You didn't even get deputy-leader by skill."

Instead of drawing his weapon, Leonard Schuler chose to gather even more force in his voice.

"I recognize your skill, Lisa Fox. But I won't tolerate any more insubordination."

Their eyes clashed in the air.

Leonard Schuler faced Lisa Fox's sharp gaze head-on.

'What's with you today, Lisa Fox?'

He knew she was prickly, but today she'd gone too far.

She'd never caused this much trouble before.

'She's not actually going to throw that dagger, is she?'

Lisa opened her mouth.

"Deputy-leader."

"Warning, Lisa."

"Deputy-leader, sir."

"Speak."

"If the goal's not more than a single win, I'm not training. What? Just put up some struggle? A bunch of little runts joined, so I figured maybe things would change..."

Lisa Fox spun on her heel and started heading straight back the way they'd come, just as Leonard Schuler was searching for words to pull her back.

At that moment, the clear voice of a child rang out.

"The goal is victory."

Lisa Fox stopped in her tracks before she'd taken even three steps and turned her head.

"Evan, what did you just say?"

"I'm saying, let's make our goal to win. I think Leonel sent us here to show a bit more of what we can do."

"Leonel? Who's that?"

While first senior Lisa Fox tilted her head in confusion, the surprised deputy-leader Leonard Schuler shouted.

"Leonel? Company commander Leonel Jorge?"

"Yeah, our company commander."

"Hey, hey, even if you're young, what kind of attitude is that toward the company commander, a 1000-man commander?"

Evan Dagon nodded placidly and corrected himself.

"I think there's a reason the company commander pushed us in here. None of us are just cannon fodder, right?"

Evan Dagon's gaze shifted toward third senior Simon.

"Well, not everyone, maybe. Anyway—"

Snicker.

Lisa Fox let out a short laugh.

"What was that, Evan. Cute, huh? Aiming for victory. Still better than someone whose goal is just to lose. Ambitious, I'll give you that."

Evan Dagon's face cooled abruptly.

* * *

Enough.

This is the limit.

Since entering the army, I'd let seniors call me a kid or cute and let it slide all in the name of fitting in. That stops here.

"Deputy-leader, first senior."

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Do you want out of the 1st squad?"

"What's with that serious face all of a sudden?"

I turned my head and looked at the other squad members.

Lisa Fox tilted her head with a what's-up-with-him look.

"How about the rest of you? Whether there's a war or not, are you planning on being treated as cannon fodder here forever?"

At the word "cannon fodder", Bier Nolan responded instantly.

"We're all going to die... we're dead for sure... Who—how can anyone use people as cannon fodder? What kind of devil first thought this up... We're all doomed..."

Uh, sorry.
That was me.
So that's why I'm getting us out.

With the inter-squad tournament, it wouldn't be hard to escape the 1st squad.

If I'm right, the reason company commander Leonel Jorge forces this silly training method should be obvious.

An objective combat evaluation for each company member.

That's probably it.

Rank and team assignment in the regulars isn't determined by seniority—

Only by skill.

But that doesn't mean the legion commander can test every single person one by one every day.

So they use a simple yet solid system for assessment and team formation.

Each squad leader evaluates all ten squad members and reports twice a year.

Each platoon commander does the same for ten squad leaders, twice a year.

Each company commander assesses the ten platoon commanders, again twice a year.

Based on these reports, combat formation at the battalion level shifts twice a year.

Sometimes nothing much changes, usually if the commander is lazy.

The flaw in this system is that commanders above company level can't know each squad member's exact skill.

First senior Lisa Fox gave a wry smile.

"Evan, I saw you do a little sword stuff. Are you going to carry all of us? Or do you have a secret plan to make our squad championship material in a month?"

Both are possible.

But wouldn't it look cooler if everyone climbed out using their own power?

"A secret plan, huh. First, I need to accurately gauge your skills."

"What?"

Deputy-leader Leonard Schuler stepped forward.

"Evan, just because you're a kid, don't go thinking this is a playground. This is the military. Less than a month in, and you're asking to size up your seniors?"

Deputy-leader Leonard Schuler.

From what I've seen so far, he can make rational decisions.

But he also has that stuffy soldier attitude.

Let's see if reason works on him.

Time for a physical demonstration, too.

And we're deep enough in the woods for privacy.

"Draw your swords. We need to know each other's capabilities before we waste time training or think about escaping the cannon fodder squad."

"What?"

"Don't worry. I'll use my bare hands."

Ba-dump.

A vein popped on deputy-leader Leonard Schuler's temple.

"What did you say?"

A few days ago, during my first bout with Bier Nolan, I'd used a sword to fit in.

When the squad wants to test the new kid's skills, you can't exactly say 'my bare hands are enough.'

But today I'm ditching the social niceties for a bit.

It's better for you too, cannon fodder friends.

* * *

Haa.

Deputy-leader Leonard Schuler let out a heavy sigh.

"Seriously, what are all of you on today?"

His squad leader, treating this like a vocational training center and oblivious to the fact that he's been disowned by his family.

His first senior, usually prickly but today outright defiant.

And now the youngest, just a month in, asking to test his skills.

'Can't take it anymore.'

These stupid brats.

Don't they get that the inter-squad tournament is the only way out of the 1st squad?

Why is everyone making it harder?

Let's just get the hell out of this damn squad, for god's sake!

Shhhk.

Deputy-leader Leonard Schuler drew his sword.

"Alright, you. I'll teach you a lesson today. Even if we're the much-mocked Tenth Platoon's 1st squad, we should at least act with discipline."

Then he pointed his sword at Lisa Fox.

"You're next, Lisa. I'll make you regret mouthing off to your senior. Ugh, what a day."

The twelve-year-old rookie, Evan Dagon, watched Leonard Schuler with that signature look of his.

Sometimes it seemed innocent, sometimes soulless, and at other times sent chills down your spine.

"Deputy-leader, are you ready?"

"Raise your sword, if you don't want to get hurt."

Sneer.

Was that a smile?

Did he just smile at me?

Deputy-leader Leonard Schuler snapped.

"You little bastard!"

Leonard Schuler is a reasonable man.

He even put up with a squad leader who'd rather nap than bother with the tournament.

He let his defiant first senior off the hook, thinking maybe she was even more skilled than him.

Arguing with the squad leader is asking for a court martial.

And he'd long since suspected that his immediate junior might be better than him.

He's also a rational man.

If a clueless newbie asks to "test your skills", he'd have just explained military discipline and etiquette—if not for today.

But today, the combined provocations of three people broke down every bit of Leonard Schuler's rational patience.

Shraaak!

With his reason flung off somewhere around the Fifth Squad's barracks, Leonard swung his bastard sword heavily.

His swing was definitely laced with feeling, but years of training had not been wasted.

The sword carved a clean arc, aiming straight for the cocky brat's torso.

'He'll dodge this much.'

He didn't plan to kill him over some backtalk.

Just to scare him.

As expected, the brat lightly leaped away from Leonard's strike.

But—

He didn't back away.

'Huh?'

In the blink of an eye, the brat was right in front of Leonard's solar plexus.

He hadn't even seen what happened.

Thud!

The brat's fist sank into Leonard's solar plexus.

"Urgh!"

* * *

"Get up. We're not done yet."

"Ugh, haah—what, what are you?"

"I told you to swing for real. A sword isn't for scaring people. It's for cutting them."

Leonard Schuler barely managed to stand.

His toughness was below expectations.

"Don't forget the fundamental purpose of a sword, and do it right."

Phew, phew.

Leonard Schuler steadied his breath and raised his sword again.

"Fine, you want to do this for real? Draw your weapon."

"Like I said, I'm not using a sword."

"Too late if you regret it."

"Regret is for humans."

"What?"

"Oh."

Right. I'm human too, aren't I.

"I mean, for foolish humans, I guess. Anyway, let's get started. If you so much as graze me with your sword in the next ten minutes, you call the shots for training. If not, I do."