AN: Spoiler-free map of the Wilds [https://imgur.com/ptX1v4t]
***
“You okay?” I offered my hand to Roshan, who is on the ground at the moment with a few cuts and bruises.
“Yeah, friend Rummy. I’ll be fine.” Roshan cheerfully replied.
“I don’t know how you can still be cheerful after those Yellow Shirt assholes roughed you up.” I said with an irritated tone. “It’s been 3 fucking moons. What kind of moron gang recruits people by constantly harassing them? Forget saving the Empire- I wouldn’t trust these guys to save a drowning fish!”
3 months ago, the Yellow Shirts approached me as Roshan predicted. These pretentious pricks called themselves the “Imperial Restoration Society”. Sadly for them, I’m not the naive fool I was in my first life. So I asked how they plan on restoring the Empire- a simple question they should have a rehearsed answer for. Yet, they stammered for like a minute and told me it’s not for a peasant like me to know their grand plans.
Yikes.
I wasn’t planning to hitch myself to any faction anytime soon, and if I were, these yahoos would be at the bottom of my list. Even the HR department in my old company wouldn’t be dumb enough to flub their mission statement, belittle the candidate, and lash out like a child. They were even worse than my HR rep from my previous life. And believe you me, “better than my HR rep” was a bar so low you could only trip over it.
So I politely turned them down.
Apparently, the Yellow Shirts believed their noble cause gave them a blank check to do anything. First, they intimidated the other groups from recruiting me (thanks for that, btw). Then they harassed me and Roshan almost everyday “for insulting their honor”. They started with petty insults and “accidental shoulder bumps”. And now that Basic Training was almost done, they’ve escalated to sucker punches.
Sure, I could’ve cursed their viciousness and their ignorance, but what’s the point? These guys were just the peons following orders from people they trusted and respected. The fish rots from the head down, and to me, the lion’s share of my vitriol deserved to be the leaders of this shitty gang. As far as I was concerned, shitty leaders made for shitty organizations.
My social commentary aside, it was a massive pain in the ass to be hyper-vigilant about this clown fiesta. I stayed in the common area, rarely wandering off. And when I had to go off the beaten path, I carried my helmet (couldn’t carry weapons in the barracks) with me. That way, I could block any incoming sucker punch with something metallic.
Roshan had a different approach- he decided to block their fists with his head. Not what I would’ve preferred, but to each his own, I supposed.
“Don’t pay too much mind to them. Once Basic Training is over, everyone will be reassigned anyways. So there’s no need to stir up trouble.” Roshan reasoned. “Anyways, let’s go see which squads we’ll be shadowing for our mock patrol!”
All that’s left of Basic Training was the mock patrol- a group of 10 trainees shadowing a 10-man patrol squad headed by a Decanus (my old world’s equivalent of a sergeant) for 2 weeks in the Wild. If we make it back alive, we’d graduate and be granted the status of “Probationary Legionnaire”. After that, we’d get assigned to different Cohorts of the Legion depending on luck/connections.
Historically, most of the people who didn't make it back from patrol were the blithering idiots who ate the wrong berries or the careless fools who strayed too far from the squad. So as long as I stayed vigilant and played it safe, I should be able to graduate Basic Training and hopefully away from those Yellow Shirt asshats.
Meanwhile, Roshan found his assignment on the board. “Oh nice! I know Decanus Oberon! He’s friends with my dad!” Roshan seemed satisfied with his posting.
Good for him. I liked Roshan, but I had little faith in his combat skill. Roshan was smaller in stature and his sword swings produced paper cuts, not fatal wounds. With all due respect, the dude belonged in an office, not out there in the Wilds.
I looked at the group posting on the announcement board to see which Squad I’ll be shadowing. Oh wow, 2nd Cohort, 3rd Century, 1st Squad- Keith’s best squad. Well, looks like somebody using their status as the Centurion to protect their star rookie.
After my sonic boom incident, Keith had been actively ”advising” me to serve in the Ranger Cohorts. Well, I was gonna do that anyway, so I might as well squeeze a few concessions from him. That’s when I started asking him a few of my burning questions.
Apparently, I “overcharged” the <<Air Blast>> spell when I visualized a sonic boom, something Keith said only the truly talented can do. My theory was that my modern memories and physics education helped me visualize these things much easier than your typical uneducated medieval peasant. Sadly, there was a limit to overcharging- that sonic boom was the best I could get out of a Beginner-level mana crystal. In other words, I couldn’t cast an <<Air Blast>> with the power of a F5 tornado, not with my puny Beginner-level air crystal. I’d need to get an Adept-level or Expert-level one, assuming I have the innate mana for it.
On that topic, Keith told me about the advantage of higher tier mana crystals. I could cast both Beginner-level and Adept-level spells with an Adept-level mana crystal, and the Beginner-level spell would have a higher ceiling for power. However, people still carried the Beginner-level ones around because there were only so many uses for an Adept-level crystal before it wears down to a Beginner-level one. It made good sense to conserve the Adept-level crystal for the Adept-level spells, after all, that stuff didn’t grow on trees (instead, they grow in big scary “Champion-level” mana-beasts).
Keith even suggested that the most promising Rangers would get promoted and receive these Adept-level crystals as rewards. Man, was the ability to dangle imaginary carrots in front of your subordinates a required ability for leadership? We both knew the Legion would never promote a street rat over the “well-connected”. Hell, I had a better chance of getting an Adept-level mana crystal from solo-killing a Champion mana-beast than I do from a promotion.
Not-so-subtle manipulations aside, I supposed I should be grateful to Keith for looking out for me. Sure, he probably feared that I’d try to get into Auxiliary with help from Roshan, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless. After all, I’ve never had any special treatment before, in this life or the last. Well, with his best squad covering my ass, this mock patrol should be a glorified field trip. And no, this was not a flag-raising comment!
***
“<<Air Blast>>!”
The arrow I just loosed blasted right through the skull of the ugly goblin I targeted. Yes, shaping my <<Air Blast>> spell construct in a helical cylinder in order to put some rifling spin on the arrow was overkill against a child-sized gobbie, but I needed the practice.
“Pour it on, boys! We got the fuckers right where we want ’em!” Vinnick, the Decanus commanding the 1st Squad, shouted as he downed 2 of the bigger hobgoblins in an instant.
I could see why this guy is the Decanus of the 1st Squad- the dude was putting on a Katniss Everdeen impression right now. Vinnick certainly had the look of a veteran combat leader- tall, lanky man in his mid-twenties with dirty blonde hair in a standard crew cut and an encouraging smile that easily inspires confidence in the troops.
After a couple of minutes, the 1st Squad completed the ambush and annihilation of the goblin raiding party. Vinnick’s plan was solid- lay an ambush on the edge of the Logging Camp we’re defending with melee fighters boxing them in from the flanks and the archers showering them with arrows from the rooftops. These fuckers never stood a chance.
I had very little complaints about his command in the last 2 weeks I’ve been assigned to his Squad. Sure, 1st Squad has 3 deadweight members who were clearly there because of connections, but the rest of the Squad were excellent Imperial Rangers through and through. And only 1 trainee died so far in this mock patrol- poor fool dropped his guard while taking a dump in a flagrant violation of Zombieland Rule #3.
Vinnick was also a great teacher. He demonstrated to the trainees the best way to skin a mana-beast, to dig out their mana crystal (that’s located near the heart), and to take the best cuts of meat from the carcasses. We also got a crash course on the geography of the Wilds and other useful information. Sure, the Wild was a scary place, but with his experienced veterans next to us, I felt like I’m on an educational camping trip.
After we dug out 17 mana crystals of various elements (The element of the mana crystal you get per kill appears to be random.) and bid the settlers at the Logging Camp farewell, we resumed our patrol of the Northwestern Zone. The mock patrol was almost finished, and a well-deserved break was just over the horizon.
“Listen up 1st Squad! We’re almost home, so be extra careful out here. We got one more thing to do before finishing up, and that is to swing by the Bear Cave.”
Whoa! Whoa! Hold the fuck up. Did he just say “Bear Cave”? Has he lost his damn mind?!? Bears were the apex predator in these parts. Even the most novice isekai reader knew this was a flag waiting to be raised!
Sensing the trainee's apprehension, Vinnick calmly explains. “Relax fellas. Nobody here is crazy enough to pick a fight with a godsdamn bear. We’re just there to take notes. Mating season just started and brass wants to know how many male suitors came to visit our local mama bear. If that number is deemed too high, we’ll evacuate the nearby settlements and wait for them to duke it out.”
Oh I see. It made good sense to keep tabs on them and keep a rough estimate of how many are in each patrol zone. But still, I didn’t like this…
After a day’s march, we arrived at the Bear Cave and stumbled upon a gruesome scene. 3-5 bodies of bears (I wasn’t sure since the mauling was so viciously thorough) scatter about near the entrance of the cave. Good gravy, that’s a lot of blood! I guess the competition for who gets to get laid took a bloody turn. Oh well, more mana crystals for us~
That was when I realized that all of the suitor’s corpses were missing hearts. Did somebody beat us to it? No, that’s impossible. Humans wouldn’t leave massive bite and claw marks all over the chest cavity area. Which leaves one other alternative: a victorious suitor cannibalized its own kind and ate the mana crystals.
Dammit, so much for an uneventful “field trip”...
“Ser? Do you know what happens when a mana-beast consumes a mana crystal?” I asked, fearful of the answer.
Vinnick looked at me weirdly, took a glance at the corpses, and frowned. “When a mana-beast consumes enough mana crystals, it can transform into a Champion mana-beast. However, when a mana-beast engages in cannibalism of its own kind, it usually goes raving mad and starts a rampage.”
He then threw a big chunk of rock at the cave entrance. Nothing but silence greeted us back after a loud thud. “Fucking hell, all the bears are dead. We have a raving mad Champion beast on the loose.”
Yup, this field trip just took a beary bad turn…
#SorryNotSorry
Field Inventory
Primary Weapon
Ranger standard-issue longbow/Quiver with arrows
Secondary Weapon
Ranger standard-issue iron-tipped spear
Armor
Ranger standard-issue leather body armor and bracers
Mana Crystals
1x Beginner-level air elemental mana crystal [On Loan]
Misc.
Ranger standard-issue survival knife, dark green cloak, field satchel, and waterskin
“You… you’re not seriously considering going after it? Are you?” One of the deadweights asked, completely forgetting his decorum in front of his commanding officer.“Of course we are! We have to track it and evacuate any settlements this monster approaches! Have you forgotten your duties as a Ranger?!?” For the first time in this 2-week patrol, Vinnick showed a displeased scowl. “Ser! No I have not! I… I was merely pointing out that it is better to rush back to the castle for reinforcement!” The deadweight replied in defense, with a slightly higher pitch.“There are dozens of settlers in the Northwestern Settlement and the Logging Camp, and they are doomed if we don’t warn them in time. Do I look like a coward pretending to be a Ranger to you, Mitt?” Vinnick stared down the deadweight with the intensity of a midday sun. “No ser!” The deadweight’s pitch went an octave higher. “I was thinking maybe we should send the trainees back as messengers to the Legate. They’d be useless in a fi
Time really flies when you’re not fighting a Champion mana-beast to the death. Luckily, almost 3 years passed without any other life-threatening happening to me as I completed my first tour of duty in the Legion. Despite being in a different Cohort, Roshan and I kept in touch. He was clearly being bullied by the Yellow Shirt asshats (who also had the connections to avoid serving in the Ranger Cohort). But he insisted that things were fine and that life is peachy for him. Well, I couldn’t help him beyond teaching him how to at least land a right cross. I may not consider myself to be this guy’s BFF, but he did help me fill in massive knowledge gaps about this world (and basic reading comprehension). So the least I could do was to repay favor with favor. After all, I am NOT those people. I am Rummy of Carnwennan. I would NEVER be an ungrateful parasite who took things for granted. Well, I hoped things would get better for him in the future...Anyways, that epic fight (it wasn’t epic a
After a brief nap, I woke up mildly refreshed and resumed my pursuit. The goal today was to stay around 250 meters away this time. There would be no crystal harvesting this time- after all, I was sure whatever crazy shit I’d see today would be more valuable than mere crystals.How did I know? Because they’d arrived at the east bank of the Acheron River. Vinnick once told me that even if you were strong enough to swim across this torrential river roughly 1-2 klicks wide, the mana-beasts in the river would never turn down a free meal. Fighting aquatic mana-beasts in the water was a fool’s errand. These Witches had to have come here specifically due to some intel, and I doubt that their source was capable of surviving past the Acheron. So most likely, whatever they’re after is somewhere nearby, at the east bank of the river. I put on a sound bootie made of bear furs on my boots to further reduce the noise level. Slowly, but surely, I followed the tracks of the Witches. I was about 400 m
For a person who prided himself as an engineer who could solve any problem, facing a problem with no good solution was literally the worst feeling in the world. Every tactic from the annals of Wikipedia was considered. But not a single one that could decisively tip the scale in my favor due to the massive disparity in power. Every battle plan I could think of relied on the Witches heavily dropping their guard in the middle of this forest, which I just couldn’t see happening based on the skill and professionalism they’d shown thus far. In the end, I decided that since I had no viable way to rescue the prisoner, and I refused to simply walk away from it all like a little bitch, I would attempt a third option, one that would require the prisoner’s consent. Around noon, I managed to catch up to the Witches as they began their lunch break. After making some preparations, I climbed up on a tree about 10 meters tall and 200 meters from the prisoner Elf. With my >, I was able to
“Honestly, how do they expect me to swing a hammer all day after eating this slop?” I finished my tasteless wheat porridge in frustration. I couldn’t believe I’m saying this, but I missed risking my life in that death jungle- at least I got to eat meat when I killed things. Looking back, the poor kid’s body was pretty malnourished when I landed in it. Thanks to 3 years of constant hunting in the Wild as a Ranger, I was able to fill up my boney frame with some honest-to-goodness muscles. Heck, there were days when I felt like my mana reserve grew to unimaginable heights. I know that’s not physically possible, but it sure felt like it. “It’s not so bad, friend Rummy. I kinda like the simplicity of porridge. Besides, it’s better than nothing!” Roshan, the ever-friendly doormat, cheerfully replied as he got up. We’re just about to be done with lunch in the mess hall. Time to head back to the forge on that 72 hour work-week grind (Can somebody invent Saturday yet?).It had been a quiet 3
I believe I owe you two drinks since you managed to survive not one, but two tours! Cheers!” Mike the tavern owner toasted after putting two cups of rum on the counter in front of me.“Honestly, I only expected only 1 drink for both tours, but I ain’t gonna complain.” I cheerfully replied. “To absent friends.” I toasted with a tinge of regret in my voice.“To absent friends.” The two of them toasted back in unison before downing the drinks. Roshan was buried with his comrades after the Elven raid. The Legion paid Roshan’s father, Rudov, 700 crowns (7 silver coins) as one-time compensation. I didn’t know much about Rudov beyond that since I lost contact with him soon after. We’ve chatted before the attack, but ever since the funeral, I got the feeling that he wanted to avoid me for some reason. It was understandable. Either Rudov blamed me for Roshan’s death or just didn’t want to be reminded of his death. Or maybe he never liked me in the first place and only put up with me for Rosh
A/N: Took the poor man 12 chapters to get his first gun. Things are slow when there's no convenient System to get you stuff, huh? On an unrelated note, my google search history now looked like that of a gun nut's after all that gun manufacturing research~***Whoosh! Another 3 years passed me in a blink of an eye. Unfortunately, I’d be lying if I said it had been 3 good years. As it turned out, Stanfur’s forge-smithy specialized in Knight armor, especially for noble brats, so my plan to keep my head down and avoid them crashed and burned big time. Luckily, I hadn’t offended any of them enough to want to kill me. Shockingly, working at Stanfur’s actually made me miss my old job. The hours were demanding, and my middle class colleagues were openly contemptuous of the peasant orphan who came from nothing. Hell, at least my old managers had the decency to hide their contempt. And don’t get me started on the clientele. At this point, I was almost looking forward to a pitched battle agains
Aurelia wasn’t perfect by any means, but she worked just fine. I was pretty pleased with her firing trial. Her accuracy faltered past 25 meters (about half the effective range of her modern counterpart), which was fine considering that she is presumably the first firearm of this world. Based on the caliber of the pistol, I wouldn’t bet on being able to punch through magically reinforced armor. Sadly, this reality forced me into adopting ambush tactics. If a squad of Knights with magically reinforced armor came at me in a set piece battle, I’d be in trouble. I needed my Garand, dammit!On top of that, I’d probably have to replace the barrel and the receiver after 500 rounds or so. My gun parts were made of cast steel, which was easier to produce in my janky forge, but weaker than the drop-forged steel the modern variants have. Maybe one day, I’d be able to afford the resources for drop-forged steel gun parts. But until then, I’d just have to do good maintenance and replace parts as ne