What Do You Wish For With Murky Eyes: Record of Highserk War - Chapter 4

Six days after the goblin subjugation in the village, the squad arrived at the annexed former Kingdom of Kanoa. The scars from the war five years ago were hardly visible in the villages of the annexed territory. Furthermore, after advancing to the northwest from there, they arrived at the city of Sarria, adjacent to the Myard territory.

City Sarria had a Highserk Empire fortress attached, with half of the city covered by walls, and the remaining half surrounded by rivers and moats. Positioned perfectly as a storage place for supplies and a location for replenishing troops against Myard, the city of Sarria, connected to the Highserk Empire territory via tributaries, constantly had more than a battalion stationed there.

In this invasion, battalions were extracted from various directions. Nine battalions, totaling 18,000 troops, were gathering for the annexation of Myard. Being the last city to surrender, even after five years, the walls and stone bridges in Sarria still bore scars from magical and projectile damage.

Passing through the city gate, Walm entered the city, and the main street was lined with shops and houses. The items sold in the open market were generally more expensive than in the core Highserk territories, and especially for food, a peasant like Walm from the agricultural era might find it challenging to afford.

Even the citizens walking to and fro on the streets appeared lean, and generously speaking, many were underweight, with not a standard body type in sight. The exception was the allied forces, the Highserk Empire soldiers. Upon reaching Sarria Fortress and waiting at the training ground, Walm was met with unexpected words.

“The whole squad hasn’t gathered according to the plan yet. Rejoice, today is free time.”

“Phew! Freedom is the best.”

“Want to go for drinks first? Or perhaps, women?”

“Either would be fine.”

Reinus, Tibard, and Danfan, the Three Idiots, disappeared into the alley like the wind. Squad Leader Duwei, pressing his temple with his hand, muttered.

“Oi, the conversation isn’t over. Well, those guys should be fine even if we leave them alone.”

True to their desires, and considering the limited time, they might be the ones in the right. After all, the country is engaged in repeated conflicts with multiple nations, both large and small. The term “peacetime” had long been forgotten in Walm’s mind. Since joining the military, he had been shuffled around battlefields, enacted life-and-death struggles, and the periods without combat were spent on training and movement. It was unbelievable that the military would grant them free time. Walm suspected it might be some new form of training.

“S-so, free time?”

Fear is shown towards things incomprehensible to humans. When Walm timidly inquired, the squad leader answered with a look as if saying he had found something strange.

“Yeah. Don’t like free time?”

“N-no, that’s not the case…”

“That’s right. Just do whatever you like, like those guys with alcohol, cigarettes, or women. It’s going to be a big battle. Live without regrets. Strictly adhere to the assembly time. Be in formation by sunrise. If you’re late, you’ll be whipped.”

The squad leader clapped his hands to disperse everyone, and the remaining members disappeared into the city like scattering spiderlings. Left behind were the squad leader, Jose, and Walm.

“So, what are you going to do, Walm?”

“Ah, u-uhhm… What should I do?”

Asked by Jose, Walm, faced with the freedom he hadn’t experienced in a long time, didn’t know what to do. He had never left the village until he joined the military, having grown up in the countryside. Even during his village days, aside from working the soil, he gathered mountain vegetables and hunted monsters in the forest. The opportunity to do something freely had long disappeared. Even if told to do whatever he liked all of a sudden, Walm was perplexed.

“You’re a guy without desires, huh.”

“I’m going to go have a drink with Squad Leader Duwei. The squad leader has been here once before, so we’ve got a bar perfectly secured. And he’s staying overnight. Will Wolm come too?”

“I’m going to have a drink with Squad Leader Duey. Since the squad leader has been here before, the tavern is secured perfectly. It even comes with accommodations. Want to come, Walm?”

It would be wise to take advantage of the help. Without much thought, Walm followed the two. They left the main street and entered an alley. Soldiers searching for their destination, beggars, and various other people passed by in the alley. In one corner of the alley, a woman was standing.

“How about tonight?”

She was a thin teenage girl. Her body, supposed to have the curves characteristic of women, prominently displayed bones and skin. Rejected by every soldier passing by, including Walm and the others, she bit her cheek and turned her face toward the ground.

“I don’t need anything.”

The others also seemed unenthusiastic. Despite realizing that this was a hypocritical act that wouldn’t fundamentally solve anything, Walm handed her some copper coins. She smiled slightly and thanked Walm. Its money taken from a corpse anyway. Rather than disappearing into the soldiers’ drinks and tobacco, the coins would probably be happier disappearing into her stomach. Afterward, without showing any signs of joy, she disappeared into the alley.

“Walm, don’t overdo the charity.”

Jose, who was behind Walm, warned him. Walm frowned at the crude remark.

“She was smart about it, but if you openly showed joy, you’d be surrounded by beggars.”

Looking around, there were war-wounded individuals without limbs and child beggars. It was impossible for Walm to provide assistance to everyone equally.

“…Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be more careful from now on,” Walm replied.

Seemingly satisfied with the response, Jose nodded.

“It’s not wasteful, and if you want, we can embrace it as compensation for rewards. Well, I wouldn’t do it openly in the alleys or in front of others,” Jose added.

When Walm followed Jose and the others, he noticed soldiers from other squads disappearing into the alleys. The dimly lit streets revealed sweet voices escaping from the darkness and crevices of houses. Mixed in with those voices, he could also hear the foolish laughter of the Three Idiots.

“They’re not prostitutes. The red-light district, where the brothels gather, is far from here. With so many soldiers gathering due to the war, some amateurs are playing at being prostitutes to earn a living. Well, if they’re caught, it’ll cause trouble,” Jose explained.

The red-light district was sustained by complex interests. To avoid being accosted, Squad Leader continued to lead through the alley. Given Walm’s appearance and the menacing atmosphere, he was the only one getting approached.

“However, for someone who’s been killing on the battlefield, Walm is oddly soft in strange ways. You’re not a knight who values clerics or chivalry; charity is meaningless for us soldiers, no matter how much you cling to the priest or knightly ideals. We’re just regular soldiers no matter how you look at it,” Jose remarked.

Jose, the fourth son of a merchant, was an unusual presence among the military. Despite having the option to live as a servant for other merchants, he claimed that making a fortune on the battlefield was the most reliable path for a merchant, owning wagons and shops. Adapted to surviving on the battlefield, he had reconciled with his situation. In contrast, Walm couldn’t completely shake off the sensations from his previous life, and he couldn’t discard them either. Without affirming or denying, Walm listened as the Squad Leader muttered with a sense of loneliness.

“The former Kanoa Kingdom was originally a fertile land. It turned into this after the war,” the Squad Leader lamented.

“Really? It wasn’t like this from the beginning?” Jose asked with interest.

“Five years ago, the increasingly reinforced Highserk Empire was causing trouble for Kanoa at the border. We somehow won the war, and when we took over a village, I was surprised. Those people were using the legumes I considered a staple for livestock feed,” the Squad Leader explained.

Saying that, the Squad Leader took a small bag from his belongings. It contained the beans that Walm had often consumed during marches and used as ingredients for the pot.

“That’s how it is now. The powerful noble, Duke Myard, from the old Kanoa, abandoned the old Kanoa Kingdom and defected to the neighboring country, Ferrius. The army sent by the Ferrius homeland and the rampaging local forces took away livestock from other Kanoa Kingdom territories, razed the rice fields in the area, and plundered the fields. And so, the invasion by the Highserk Empire, lacking supplies, has been postponed until now,” explained the Squad Leader.

“Oh no, that’s terrible,” Jose said, shaking his head with a disgusted expression. Scorched earth tactics were effective for armies that relied on enemy territory for food. Although logistics were strengthened by magic bags and more powerful horses and magical beasts than in the conventional world, they were not enough to support the Highserk Empire.

“We abandoned the Myard territory for a while, provided minimal food support, and managed to reclaim the old Kanoa Kingdom. The grudge against Myard and Ferrius is heavier than the one directed at the Highserk Empire. Anyone would be angry if their ally stabbed them in the back, right?” the Squad Leader added.

“I was worried because I heard that a battalion from the old Kanoa Kingdom is also participating in this operation, but if that’s the case, it should be fine,” Jose commented.

After further chatting and deepening his knowledge about the old Kanoa, Walm arrived at the designated tavern. It was a two-story building with the tavern on the first floor and lodging on the second. The outer walls were stained with soot, likely from cooking, and the entrance door bore small scratches that appeared to be from rough handling.

Pushing the door open, a brass doorbell announcing the entrance resonated modestly inside the shop. Near the counter, five Haiselk soldiers were seated at a table. In the back, there were men who appeared to be regulars, adorned with neatly decorated accessories and well-tailored clothes. Judging from their appearance, Walm determined that they were city merchants. Following the invitation of Squad Leader Dewey, Walm distanced himself from the two groups and took a seat at a table.

“I’ll treat you today. It’s been a while since newcomers other than Walm survived,” said Jose, happily whistling. In response, Walm also grinned with a smile. When Squad Leader Dewey raised his hand and shifted his gaze, the owner came to confirm the order from behind the counter.

“Three ales and a bottle of wine. Do you have any dishes that can be prepared quickly?” Squad Leader Dewey asked.

The owner showed a momentary thoughtful expression and replied, “If we warm up the hard-baked bread and soup with water buffalo, onions, and beans, it will be ready soon. We also have enough catfish for everyone.”

“Give enough of both for the three of us. Fried catfish, please,” Squad Leader Dewey instructed.

The owner nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Perhaps the serving to other customers was already finished, as the ale, soup, and bread were brought to the table sooner than Walm had anticipated.

“To the continuation of our luck on the front lines of the Liberitoa border and in Myard,” Squad Leader Dewey raised his tankard.

Walm didn’t hesitate to clink his tankard enthusiastically with Squad Leader Dewey’s. After a clear and lively sound, he quickly drained its contents. It was a habitual gesture, but for soldiers who made a living through war, toasting with gusto when drinking was a must. Walm had been taught that soldiers who made modest toasts were not to be relied upon.

The attentive owner, confirming the need for additional orders, poured ale into the tankards. Walm tore the bread into bite-sized pieces, dipped it into the soup, and stuffed it into his mouth. The richness from the water buffalo, the depth from onions and beans spread across his palate. Piercing the ingredients that sank into the soup with a fork, he brought them to his mouth. The tough texture of the water buffalo had been stewed until it became tender. The beans, having just the right amount of softness, cracked open with a light bite, offering a delightful accent.

“I thought I was getting tired of bean soup on the road, but with the ingredients and the chef’s skill, it’s a whole new experience,” Walm exclaimed in admiration. Jose nodded in agreement.

“There were a lot of undercooked or raw ones,” Jose added.

As Walm finished the soup, fried catfish was placed on the table. Although it had been filleted into three pieces, it seemed to have substantial eating satisfaction for each person, prompting Walm to reach out. He put a piece into his mouth with a fork. After the pleasant texture of the crispy coating, the flavor of the catfish spread on his tongue. The white meat had a mild taste that wasn’t overwhelming, and despite it being covered in batter, it didn’t feel greasy and he felt he could keep eating it forever.

“Fried catfish is the best,” Walm complimented.

Living on a diet of only grilled or boiled food was challenging for Walm, who had grown up in a world with a rich culinary culture. Now, he could enjoy it in an environment where he didn’t have to worry about night raids or morning attacks.

“Was the last time you had this before the deployment to Liberitoa? Catfish is tastier than river fish,” the cheerful squad leader, having swiftly finished his ale, began reaching for the wine.

“Come on, eat and drink,” urged by the squad leader, Walm obediently emptied his remaining ale, and the empty tankard was filled with wine. The wine had a strong acidity, but it was suitable for resetting the oiliness from the fried food. The sun had not yet set, but there was no reason to stop the revelry. Forgetting everything else, Walm continued to savor the dishes and wine in front of him.