The Fate of a Soldier

The eight of them chatted along the way, discussing everything from astronomy to geography, with topics flowing as naturally as water.

Gradually, the conversation shifted toward the rumors in the army.

Victor suddenly put on a mysterious expression and lowered his voice.

"Have you guys heard?"

Harley immediately perked up his ears, curiosity written all over his face.

"Heard what?"

He prided himself on knowing all the latest information, so he couldn't help but be curious about what Victor knew that he hadn't heard of yet.

"Our captain got into a fight with a few other captains."

Victor spoke as if he was revealing a massive secret.

Upon hearing this, the others nodded.

This kind of thing wasn't uncommon in the army.

Sometimes officers would have disagreements, and it wasn't rare for disputes to turn physical.

Albert smiled nonchalantly and said,

"Fights aren't exactly unusual.

Which captain hasn't been in a few fights?"

Dillon also nodded calmly.

"That's not really news, Victor."

However, Victor clearly wasn't done yet.

He continued, still sounding mysterious.

"Do you know why they fought?"

That one sentence made everyone stop in their tracks.

They hadn't really thought about why the captain fought with the others.

"Let's hear it, Victor."

Borne asked curiously, and the others all perked up, waiting for Victor's scoop.

Harley looked skeptical and shot Victor a sideways glance.

"You know?"

Victor raised his eyebrows proudly, wearing an air of importance.

"Of course I know. Don't you guys know? I'll tell you.

It was because they argued over food distribution."

He lowered his voice, as if telling them a great secret.

"Do you remember why each of us got an extra sausage and jerky last time?"

Harley and the others were momentarily confused, unable to recall.

Seeing their reactions, Victor couldn't help but elaborate.

"It's because our captain won the fight against the other captains!"

At Victor's words, the group suddenly remembered.

"Oh, so it was that day!"

Lucius exclaimed, finally understanding.

That day, when their squad went to collect rations, each of them received an extra sausage and piece of jerky, which had puzzled everyone at the time.

It turned out there was a whole story behind it.

"So, our extra meal was because the captain won a fistfight?" 

Albert said in surprise, a hint of admiration in his eyes.

Victor nodded mysteriously.

"That's right. The other captains wanted a bigger share of the rations, but our captain wasn't having it, so he fought them. 

As you saw, we ended up with more food in the end."

Harley looked incredulous.

"Who would've thought our extra meal came from a fistfight!"

The eight of them had just returned to camp and hadn't even had a chance to disperse when their captain, Khazik, suddenly appeared in front of them.

Khazik's face was devoid of any smiles. His brows were tightly furrowed, and he looked serious and tense.

"Captain, is something the matter?"

Dalton was the first to speak up, and the others all stood at attention, saluting the captain in unison.

Khazik's gaze swept over each of their faces, and after a brief silence, he could tell that these soldiers had no idea of the danger they were about to face.

Feeling a heavy weight on his heart, he knew he had to inform them.

"Orders have come from above. In one week, the army will launch an attack.

And we, along with four other scout teams, will form the vanguard, heading to the northeastern corner to clear the way for the flanking troops."

Khazik finally spoke, his voice steady.

As soon as he finished, the atmosphere grew heavy.

The expressions of the eight men turned serious.

"The vanguard?"

Lucius softly repeated, feeling a growing sense of unease.

Khazik nodded and continued.

"Yes, our mission is to scout the route for the flanking troops and ensure it's safe.

You must prepare for the worst because this mission… is a matter of life and death."

The moment those words left his mouth, everyone's faces changed.

"Life and death?"

Victor couldn't help but exclaim.

"Captain, if the mission is so dangerous, why do we…"

Harley was about to question further but was interrupted by Khazik.

"This is a military order. We are soldiers; this is our duty.

We must clear the path for the provide a safe route for the flanking troops."

Khazik's tone brooked no argument, his expression stern.

The group fell into a brief silence, exchanging glances.

In each other's eyes, they could see the heavy burden of the situation.

Dillon took a deep breath and finally broke the silence.

"Understood, Captain. We'll be ready."

Khazik nodded, and his expression softened slightly.

"Good. Rest well tonight. Starting tomorrow, we'll be fully preparing for this mission."

After Khazik left, the eight men stood in silence, exchanging uneasy glances.

Worry and heaviness were etched on all their faces, and the mood became unbearably tense.

"The northeastern corner, huh," Lucius said softly, frowning.

"Yeah, that place is dangerous.

There may not be many magic beasts, but the terrain is complex, with forests and mountains everywhere."

Victor added, his voice filled with concern.

"The worst part is those damned beasts might jump out from anywhere, and there'll be nowhere to run."

Harley muttered, clearly in a low mood.

Borne pressed his lips together, saying nothing.

His head hung low, and his gaze was clouded with confusion.

Khazik's final words echoed in his mind—life and death.

Though they were part of an elite scout team, this mission was far more dangerous than any they'd faced before.

Ambushes from magic beasts, treacherous terrain, and limited intelligence all made this mission filled with uncertainty.

"Can we really complete this mission?"

Dalton mumbled under his breath, his tone filled with undisguised worry.

"That's not something we get to decide anymore.

We're soldiers, and following orders is our duty."

Dillon's voice was calm and resolute, like a steady anchor.

His words brought the group's unsettled emotions back to reality.

Hearing him, the others nodded in agreement, with no one voicing any objections.

After so many years, they had long grown accustomed to it.

In the army, they were used to following orders, no matter the danger ahead.

Even if those orders sent them into battle, facing life or death, their legs would move faster than their brains.

Many times, the moment the captain's orders were issued, they didn't even need to think; their bodies would already be in motion.

It was a reflex formed from years of training.

A soldier's duty was to obey, even when they knew the path ahead was filled with danger.

Their feet would still carry them onto the battlefield.

They didn't need to question orders or think about personal survival.

All that mattered was acting the moment they heard the command.

This was the fate of a soldier.