The Intent of the 1000-man Commander

Cliff Shannon, the incompetent and weak squad leader.

An obvious choice to be relegated to the role of cannon fodder as the squad leader of the 1st squad.

He effectively acts as a screen, making sure the other squad leaders and platoon commanders fail to notice that the 1000-man commander, Leonel Jorge, is scheming something special with the 1st squad.

Under him, as deputy squad leader, he placed Leonard Schuler, who had committed insubordination and been transferred from another unit.

Although I beat him up thoroughly, that doesn't mean he lacks ability.

If necessary, he's someone who can boldly push aside the squad leader and command the squad members.

Next, there's Lisa Fox, the First Senior.

The most skilled in the 1st squad, yet also someone acutely aware of her own limitations.

That makes her even more prickly towards men.

Like a sharp dagger, she's someone who can overturn the outcome from an unexpected quarter.

Then there's Bier Nolan, the Second Senior.

Traumatized by the thought of becoming cannon fodder, his mind is half gone, but he's a master swordsman.

He wields a rapier like it's a part of his own body. He's someone who can deal a fatal wound to an unguarded foe.

And finally, the two other ordinary squad members.

If you don't look closely, the squad seems fit only to be dismissed as mere cannon fodder, but they're put together in a way that could overturn a squad match at any moment.

But perhaps things didn't go as planned.

He pushed Bastian and me into this squad as well.

Leonel Jorge.

You were planning to use the 1st squad as the catalyst for change in the Fourth Company.

Like a mudfish stirring up the stagnant water in a pond.

"Next, 2nd Squad and 1st squad with the red ball, come forward."

It's our turn.

Walking forward, I looked at Company Commander Leonel Jorge.

He, too, must have been watching me, because our eyes met directly.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded lightly.

I'll do it. I'll play the role of the mudfish.

As I walked toward the center of the parade ground, a heavy, unresolved question began to form in my mind.

"Hmm."

Why am I trying to pull the squad members out of the 1st squad in the first place?

Because I find this situation interesting?

Out of sympathy?

Have I grown fond of them?

Even if I do pull them out, others will only be assigned to the 1st squad in their place.

So, what really changes?

It's not like I've chosen these squad members as comrades.

We haven't spent long years together as family or childhood friends.

So why?

"2nd Squad and 1st squad, begin the match."

Company Commander Leonel Jorge's firm voice echoed across the field.

I'll have to wrestle with that unanswered question later.

For now, I strode forward and moved to stand beside the squad leader.

"Squad leader."

"Huh? What's up?"

"Formation Four."

"What?"

"Order the squad to take up Formation Four. Don't tell me you've forgotten already?"

During the month of training, I drilled the squad members in five different formations.

"Can't you just give the order yourself?"

"Do you want the whole unit to hear the rumor that you lost your command to a twelve-year-old brat?"

Startled, Squad Leader Cliff Shannon glanced around.

All the company's platoon commanders and squad leaders were watching the match with us, aside from our 2nd Squad opponents.

"Hrm. 1st squad! Formation Four!"

The burly 2nd Squad leader snorted.

"What's Formation Four? Is it a formation for scattering and running away?"

Hardly.

Formation Four: I, Lisa Fox (First Senior), and Deputy Squad Leader Leonard Schuler form the front triangle, with myself at the very point.

Behind us, Bier Nolan (Second Senior) and Bastian hold the flanks. At the rear, another triangle is formed: Simon (Third Senior), Dirk, and Squad Leader Cliff Shannon.

Snap, snap.

The 1st squad members neatly formed up in Formation Four.

I guess a taste of the cane helps one remember—after many beatings, they've learned the formation well.

"What is that?"

The 2nd Squad leader lifted his arms in disbelief, turning to the company commander and platoon commanders seated to the side.

"What is this ridiculous formation? Are you begging to be surrounded and devoured?"

Not entirely wrong. In mass combat, it's advantageous to line up horizontally.

If you form up vertically like this, you're likely to be surrounded and beaten from all sides.

Srrng.

I drew my sword first.

Srrng, srrng.

The other squad members drew their weapons as well.

"We're all going to die..."

"I told you to shut it, Bier."

As usual, ever-pessimistic Bier Nolan, with Lisa Fox growling at him.

Still, both drew their swords and stared straight ahead.

* * *

1000-man commander Leonel Jorge tilted his head.

'What is that kid doing?'

It's certainly a formation orchestrated by Evan Dagon.

Reports had already come in that Evan was training the 1st squad as their instructor.

'What's on your mind, Evan Dagon?'

2nd Squad has ten men; 1st squad has eight.

They're already outnumbered.

Standard tactics would call for spreading out to cover for the lack of numbers, but instead they bunched close together.

The 2nd Squad leader gestured right and left.

The outwardly spread 2nd Squad began to encircle the 1st squad.

The 2nd Squad leader sneered.

"You think huddling together hurts less?"

Standing at the front, with his sword held vertically, Evan replied,

"Come on in."

"What, this little brat? Is 1st squad so desperate they're filling headcount with kids now?"

"Enough talking. Come on."

The 2nd Squad leader's face twisted with fury.

"You lot! Hit them! No need to go easy! Even if you're half-dead, the infirmary will patch you up!"

2nd Squad members charged in en masse.

A fight of ten versus eight.

The enemy had the numbers.

They had more confidence and morale too.

Here we were, about to be surrounded in a strange formation.

1000-man commander Leonel Jorge watched Evan Dagon closely.

'What are you planning, Evan Dagon?'

Then, sunlight flashed off Evan's sword.

He knocked aside the swing of the 2nd Squad leader, rolled once across the ground—

Shk!

—and slashed cleanly through the 2nd Squad leader's Achilles tendon.

It happened faster than many of the centurions next to Leonel Jorge could even see.

Leonel Jorge himself was so startled, he jerked upright in his seat.

'Evan Dagon...'

Fast, yes—but more than that, he swung his sword without a trace of hesitation, severing at the vital point even though this wasn't a real battlefield.

"Kraaagh!"

Before the 2nd Squad leader could collapse in a scream, Evan Dagon threw himself sideways and ran a blade through another 2nd Squad member's side.

Several platoon commanders leapt up from their seats.

"What, what was that kid?"

"How can he be so fast?"

"Did he just kill that guy?"

Meanwhile,

Clang! Chaang!

First Senior Lisa Fox and Second Senior Bier Nolan each crossed swords with an opponent.

1000-man commander Leonel Jorge murmured to himself,

"Lisa, Bier. Handling one each is nothing for them."

While that was happening, Evan Dagon jumped again.

Clang! Clang!

This opponent wasn't taken off guard; their blades clashed twice. But that was it.

Shhk!

Evan's damascus steel sword slashed straight through the enemy's wrist.

The hand holding the sword wasn't severed all the way, but the cut was so deep bone and muscle were visible, the hand hanging by a shred.

"That's three already!"

"Who is he? He looks like a kid!"

While the centurions gasped in alarm, three men had already fallen.

'Is that why he chose this odd formation?'

A strangely precise plan.

While Lisa Fox and Bier Nolan, who could hold their own, held the line, Evan would break as many of the enemy's main force as possible, and quickly.

'They're deliberately standing close? To force the enemy to bunch up and end the fight before they're overwhelmed.'

If they'd spread out horizontally, Evan couldn't have broken through three so quickly.

'Now will he go help the rear, or help Lisa or Bier finish their duels first?'

If he helped Lisa Fox or Bier, he could end the fight even more quickly.

But while he did, the weaker squad members at the rear would be in danger.

It would take longer, but the safest tactic would be to head straight for the rear, minimizing losses and ensuring a stable victory.

Just then,

Thunk.

Bastian Dagon's sword drove deep into a 2nd Squad member's thigh.

The big Dirk shoulder-checked the enemy already stabbed by Bastian.

Whoosh.

Evan's sword sliced through the air.

Thunk!

It went straight into the shoulder of an enemy charging at Cliff Shannon.

Company Commander Leonel Jorge was shocked.

'He just threw his sword?'

Even if the circumstances were favorable, a swordsman throwing his blade is unthinkable.

Ta-at!

Evan leapt and flew through the air. As he reached down, Bastian calmly offered him his own sword.

This time, Leonel Jorge was even more taken aback.

'In the midst of battle, he hands over his sword to a comrade? That's as good as giving up your life!'

That's how much he trusts and relies on Evan.

Thud.

With Bastian's sword in hand, Evan skewered another enemy in the shoulder.

Having given up his blade, Bastian smoothly slipped behind Dirk's back.

Voom.

A huge warhammer swung toward Evan.

Evan raised his blade to block with a light parry, then rolled backwards, coming to rest where his previously thrown sword still stuck in the ground.

'Deliberately!'

Shnk.

He pulled out his own sword and tossed Bastian's blade underhanded, planting it right at Bastian's feet.

Amidst the stunned, wide-eyed platoon commanders, Company Commander Leonel Jorge also stood in disbelief.

'It looks reckless, but—'

It's anything but.

I thought he just threw his sword in a panic, but each move, and the next, and the one after that, were all precisely calculated.

The positions and abilities and trajectories of all friend and foe taken into account—only then could he plan these moves.

'That's like...'

The hallmark of a veteran who's fought through thousands of battles.

Though their reflexes and strength decline with age, they've survived countless battlefields, cutting down scores or hundreds of enemies through sheer experience.

'Yet at the same time, he's both chillingly calm and brutally wild.'

He has the clean swordsmanship of an elite family, but also the rough, untamed moves of a lifelong adventurer.

Shnk.

Bier Nolan's rapier pierced the last standing squad member in the side.

Not a single man in 2nd Squad remained standing.

'What is this kid?'

His prowess against me was surprising, but his swordsmanship in a chaotic melee like this revealed his true worth.

"Company Commander?"

Called back to his senses by a lieutenant's voice, Company Commander Leonel Jorge finally snapped out of it.

"Match over. 1st squad wins. Staff, hurry and get the 2nd Squad to the infirmary."

The 1st squad, panting and shocked, looked at each other in disbelief.

At the center of it all was the boy whose breathing wasn't even ragged—Evan Dagon—standing and meeting the gaze of 1000-man commander Leonel Jorge head-on.

A gaze deep yet unreadable. Dark yet transparent.

"You're even more incredible than I thought, Evan Dagon."