How the 1st squad Survives

"Huff, huff."

Deputy-squad leader Schuler was gasping for breath.

"You... you..."

He could barely stand and was hunched over, resting his hands on his knees.

"Ten minutes are up."

"H-how..."

A vivid bruise stood out on his face from where I had hit him.

He was probably bruised all over his body under his clothes as well.

"Then, from now on, I'll conduct this training my way."

I turned my head and looked at First Senior, Lisa Fox.

"Should I check your skills too, First Senior?"

The always-prickly Lisa Fox awkwardly waved her hands with a smile.

"What's this, little kid. Is this all you got?"

"Then you have no objection, right? Oh, and during my training from now on, the word 'little kid' is banned."

"Fine, whatever."

"That goes for the other seniors as well, okay?"

Everyone looked at me and the deputy-squad leader in turn, their faces vacant.

"Huh? Oh."

"No objections..."

* * *

The squad seniors were now deeply regretting saying they had no objections to me.

It's already the third day of just lower body workouts.

"E-Evan. I can't run anymore."

Since yesterday, squad leader Cliff Shannon had started participating in the squad training too.

That was decided after he mouthed off with nonsense and then got beaten by me for 20 minutes.

"Get up, Squad Leader. Morning training isn't over."

"I can't run. I said I can't."

If you can't even do this, you're just dead, Squad Leader Cliff Shannon.

"If you don't want to die, get up."

Squad leader Cliff Shannon, glancing warily at my fist, got to his feet with his massive body.

I hadn't meant to hit him, but he seemed to have misunderstood something.

What I meant was that he'd die not by my hand but in the upcoming war.

Whatever—it's fine as long as he got up.

Looking ahead, I could see Lisa Fox already descending after having reached the top of the mountain.

She really does seem light on her feet.

"Senior Lisa."

"Yeah?"

"This."

I handed her a gift I'd made that morning.

"What's this? A bag?"

"I specially picked out heavy stones for it."

"Stones?"

"Run with this on your back."

"What, why just me?"

I gazed at Lisa Fox's thighs in silence.

Her form-fitting leather pants showed the outline of her muscles.

"Where are you staring, you punk? Just because you beat the deputy-squad leader, you think you can get away with anything?"

Am I not allowed to look?

"You're quick because you're light, but to really fight, you need to build up your thigh muscles. With legs like that, you won't even be able to block Senior Simon's two-handed longsword."

"I'll just dodge or deflect it."

"That only works against people less skilled than you."

"......"

Lisa Fox.

Thankfully, she's someone I can reason with.

If she just screamed, 'No it's not! No it's not!' and charged at me, it'd be tough to continue the conversation.

"You already knew, right? That fighting men who are strong isn't easy. That's why you practiced throwing daggers more, isn't it?"

"Stop talking like you know everything."

"Here."

I offered the bag stuffed with heavy stones.

"I'll help you break through your limits."

"And who are you to do that?"

"I'm the squad's training officer."

Lisa Fox, who'd been scowling at me, snatched the bag from my hands.

"It's not even that heavy."

"Try carrying it up to the summit and back. I think you'll change your mind."

While Lisa Fox slung the stone bag onto her back, I turned away.

"What are you waiting for? Squad Leader."

"Huh? Oh. I was just about to start."

* * *

1000-man commander Leonel Jorge's private office. Leonel Jorge called me in about every other day.

"So, what's the way for infantry 1st squad to survive during a defensive battle out on the field?"

"They need to run away."

A slight furrow crossed Leonel Jorge's brow.

Was he disappointed?

Did he expect some other answer?

"Running away on the battlefield is punishable by summary execution under military law."

"What's the actual role of 1st squad?"

"Is that a question for me?"

"Disrupting the formation of charging cavalry is just an excuse. Isn't the real job to identify which among them are knights who can handle aura?"

The slight frown on Leonel Jorge's forehead smoothed away.

"You do get to the heart of the matter."

The heart of it? Well, I'm the one who created the tactic, after all.

"But running away is your only option?"

"Then what else do you expect the squad composed of the least skilled infantry to do?"

"I suppose. You're only twelve, aren't you. Maybe I expected too much."

"But."

Leonel Jorge, who was sighing, looked into my eyes again.

"All 1st squad has to do is identify which ones are knights and then pull back, right?"

Or eliminate them. Leonel Jorge's pupils sparkled.

"Do you have a plan in mind?"

And how.

That's what I'm training the squad members for.

Outwardly, I'm saying it's to prepare for the squad tournament, but—

With war about to break out at any time, there's no room for leisurely preparing for a tournament.

Still, if war doesn't break out before then, I don't intend to lose the squad tournament, so I guess it's killing two birds with one stone.

"Just give our squad one horse. It should be a good one. And please allow Dirk and me a day's leave."

Company commander Leonel Jorge tilted his head.

"Leave? Did you not hear the order that all leaves and passes are suspended in the entire 4th Legion?"

"Half a day's enough. It's important."

"I might be able to get you a horse, but no leave."

"Then we'll just sneak out and back."

"Are you saying you'll desert?"

Sometimes, silence is better than trying to argue. I shrugged and stared Leonel Jorge in the eyes.

"... It seems you do have some idea."

"I'll show you how 1st squad survives."

I replied shortly, meeting his eyes for a moment. Then—

"I have an errand to send, so bring one more squad member and come back right now."

Oh. Bold move.

* * *

"Welcome... Oh, sir Evan."

"Have you been well?"

"As you can see."

After we talked about swords last time, the blacksmith started addressing me as "Sir Evan," even though I was young enough to be his grandson.

"Master, I need you to make something quickly."

The blacksmith looked at Dirk.

"Quite a good physique, you have."

"Hello, I'm Dirk."

The blacksmith and Dirk exchanged greetings.

"Is it a sword for this man?"

"No, not a sword. I need armor. The kind knights wear."

"Oh, was your companion here a knight? When do you need it by?"

"As soon as possible."

"To make proper knight's armor takes a fair bit of time."

"It just has to look convincing."

The blacksmith tilted his head. Probably from the conversation we had last time.

I guess I didn't come across as the kind of person who needed gear for appearances.

"Don't worry about defensive ability, just make something that roughly fits Dirk. How long if you make it as fast as possible?"

"But even so, for armor to serve its basic function..."

I cut him off.

"No need for any actual function. It just has to look like real armor from a distance—that's all."

I glanced around and pointed at a lightweight set of armor.

"Refit that to fit Dirk, or just make it look like it fits. Make the outside flamboyant, nice and shiny."

The blacksmith nodded.

"I suppose you have a use for it."

"When can it be ready?"

"If it's just repairs and decorating the outside... within a few days."

"When it's done, send it straight to our squad."

I handed him a gold coin.

"This is too much just for refitting parade armor. You paid generously last time too..."

"Just get it done—fast, please."

The blacksmith nodded.

"Sir Dirk, if you will, I'll take your measurements."

* * *

After leaving the blacksmith in the forest, Dirk and I stopped by the village for a bit.

"By the way, Evan, why do I need armor all of a sudden?"

"In case war breaks out."

"War?"

"Yeah. You'll be really important then."

Dirk pointed blankly at his own face.

"Important?"

"Yeah. You've got the most knight-like build among us."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll explain it all soon. Let's get a present for Senior Lisa on the way."

"A present? What kind?"

"Maybe cosmetics or hairpins?"

* * *

"Knees higher! Push off harder with your feet!"

"Huff, huff. Evan, what kind of training is this, anyway?"

Today, we're doing sprint training on the parade ground.

Since sprint training can't be done secretly in the forest, we just went ahead and used the parade ground.

"Again—knees higher! Keep your back upright! Swing your arms more! Push off the ground with your back foot! The further you push, the further you go!"

All the squad members, now on their twentieth 100-meter lap, had pouches of stones tied to their ankles.

I'd specifically picked heavy stones from the forest and sewn the pouches myself.

"That's twenty done. Take a short break."

"Huff, huff. Wh—what does this training have to do with the squad tournament?"

"Basic stamina and running ability are the foundation of all training."

Not to mention, it's training your lives will depend on.

* * *

Today is finally squad combat formation training.

"What? Why am I at the very front?"

"Because you're the strongest, First Senior."

"Nonsense. Then you take the front, Evan."

"I have something else to do."

During defensive battles in Sathus regulars, the 1st squad's infantry formation is extremely simple.

Ten people stand side-by-side, arms outstretched for spacing.

Shields in left hand, sword in right. That's the 1st squad's formation.

Charging cavalry will swing their weapons, rear their horses, and sometimes jump to break through the row of ten infantry standing like that. Behind the spear line, our knights on our side carefully observe this. When they spot anyone moving like a knight, our pair of knights rush at them.

Even if the enemy army knows this tactic, they can't just always go around and avoid 1st squad.

Avoiding us that way would make it even harder to break through the shield wall and spearmen in the main force at the front.

For charging cavalry, speed is everything.

But our 1st squad adopted a sharp V-shaped formation, already agreed upon with 1000-man commander Leonel Jorge.

"Evan, what about me?"

Dirk, a regular squad member left out of the completed formation, asked.

"You hang back for now. I have a special job for you. You've been practicing the private training I gave you, right?"

Dirk puffed out his chest and thumped it with his fist.

"Don't worry about it. No one in our village rode horses better than me."