Chapter 65
Makstri Outskirts Base.
The facilities were pristine, a stark contrast to the rough conditions of Makstri, reflecting the presence of regular soldiers.
“Did you hear about the new commander that arrived?”
“Oh, you heard about that?”
Tayren nodded at his superior’s question.
“Just some sergeant. What were the higher-ups thinking, sending someone like that? It’s not like these guys will change just because one of those comes in.”
Tayren had been stationed at Makstri for over two years.
During that time, he had seen countless prisoners die.
To the kingdom, Makstri was nothing more than a place to keep criminals contained.
The gold mine was just a bonus, and not something the Baroque Kingdom particularly needed.
And now, out of nowhere, they’d sent a commander.
“Well, it might be entertaining to watch.”
“Entertaining, my ass. What can he possibly do?”
Suddenly, the superior seemed to recall something and turned to Tayren.
“Hey, you know that guy who’s lasted a long time?”
“You mean Hemus?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Go tell him that the so-called commander is from a different unit, so as long as he roughs him up a bit, we won’t interfere.”
The superior chuckled, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
Prisoners would bow and scrape before regular soldiers, but if they knew they weren’t getting any backup...
“That kid will be pulp in no time. You think he’ll run off in a few days? Hahaha!”
The superior burst out laughing.
However, Tayren hesitated.
“Actually... it might not be that simple.”
“What do you mean?”
Tayren recalled the scene he had witnessed earlier.
Those wild beasts obediently bowing their heads to the ground still lingered vividly in his mind.
‘But... it’s probably just temporary.’
He knew what kind of men they were.
What could a single man possibly achieve with people who only knew how to die?
Tayren soon nodded in agreement with his superior, laughing along with him.
—
The atmosphere in Makstri had changed.
Over a hundred prisoners stood in seven orderly rows.
The reason for the seven rows was simple: the seven men who had been thoroughly beaten by Damian were now in charge.
Damian glanced at the prisoners lined up before him.
“Straighten the lines. I don’t want you looking at anything but the head of the person in front of you. Keep those lines straight.”
He pointed with the stick he held, directing his command at a prisoner who had stepped out of line.
Every time Damian gave an order, the prisoners flinched and snapped into action.
“Now that’s more like it.”
They stood at attention, tense, staring straight ahead, too afraid even to move their eyes.
Damian pointed at the man at the far left.
The man was the one who had been knocked out in a single blow during their first encounter.
“From now on, these guys at the front are the squad leaders. You’re the leader of Squad 1. You, Squad 2.”
Damian moved down the line, assigning squad leaders up to Squad 7.
“When I call on you, I’ll refer to you as Squad Leader 1, Squad Leader 2. Names aren’t necessary. You’re only here to do as I say.”
Standing firmly in place, Damian’s gaze bore into them, and they gulped nervously.
The performance Damian had displayed earlier was burned into their memories.
Moreover...
―If something like this happens again after today, you’ll be executed immediately. No one cares if trash like you dies.
Everyone in Makstri knew one thing: Damian was someone who could actually follow through on his threats.
The prisoners now stood with military-like discipline, their eyes locked on Damian.
“Squad Leader 1.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Don’t stutter. Answer properly, Squad Leader 1.”
“Yes!”
“All squad leaders, turn around and face your squad members.”
The leaders turned, looking at the men under their command.
Damian continued, “From now on, if any of your squad members mess up, you die. Test me if you think I’m joking.”
“N-No, sir!”
“We’ll keep them in line, sir!”
The seven squad leaders shouted, glaring fiercely at their squads.
Their eyes were filled with a clear message: ‘If you cause trouble, you’re dead.’
“That’s correct.”
“...Ha.”
Damian couldn’t hide his disbelief at the simplicity of it all.
It really was like a game.
Though he had called them irredeemable trash, this was more like playing with human lives.
‘They’re just toying with people’s lives.’
Damian wasn’t pleased with the kingdom’s tactics, either.
With a stern expression, he continued to listen to Hemus’s explanations.
The gist was straightforward.
The side that planted its flag at the gold mine base would control the mine.
The side that used the base as a shield had a significant defensive advantage.
“So essentially, the base is more important than the mine itself.”
“That’s right.”
Damian nodded at Hemus’s explanation, then stared at the map.
The base was built at the top of a slight incline, nothing too special.
However...
‘The defending side always has the advantage.’
Seeing the terrain firsthand would be necessary for precision, but it was clear that breaching the enemy’s base would require well-executed tactics.
‘Whether it’s possible with these men remains to be seen...’
For now, the first objective would be to reclaim the base.
Stalling for time would be crucial.
“Got it. Head back and stand by. Let me be clear—if anyone deserts or causes trouble, there will be no second chances.”
Faced with Damian’s chilling stare, the men swallowed hard and nodded.
Left alone, Damian studied the map Hemus had drawn.
“There’s a lot we need to prepare.”
Requesting support from the main Makstri force was out of the question.
If that had been possible, they wouldn’t have been left to rot here in the first place.
Damian clicked his tongue and turned away.
“Tsk... this is going to cost.”
But this was the time to spend.
Damian set off, heading somewhere alone.
—
Makstri Unit’s Evening.
As promised, Damian brought a generous amount of meat.
“It’s meat!”
“Cut it into big pieces and make stew. The weather’s getting colder, so keep everyone warm.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
The prisoners in charge of cooking stared wide-eyed at the mountain of meat piled on the cart.
It was enough to feed the entire unit, and they had to work quickly to prepare it all.
When dinner was served, the prisoners were moved to tears by the stew filled with large chunks of meat.
“Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve had meat.”
“This is the taste! This is what I’ve been missing!”
“We’ve been eating nothing but thin soup... I forgot what this tasted like.”
The men savored the stew, rich with spices and flavors they hadn’t experienced in ages.
Damian shouted over the crowd.
“This meat is a reward because Squad 1 built the barrack we’ll use for meetings. Everyone, thank Squad 1!”
“Woohoo! Thanks, Squad 1, for not slacking off!”
“You guys made our mouths happy after so long!”
“Thanks, comrades! Hahaha!”
As the atmosphere heated up, Damian chuckled quietly.
Hemus approached Damian.
“Where did you get all this meat?”
“Where else? I bought it. Just a bit behind the front lines, things aren’t as bad as they are here.”
“...”
Hemus didn’t know how to respond.
It wasn’t as though he was unaware of the situation behind the front lines.
But Damian had brought enough meat to feed nearly two hundred men.
Even for regular soldiers, that kind of money was hard to come by.
“Tell the squad leaders—everyone will wake up at dawn from tomorrow.”
“At dawn...?”
“If anyone’s late, you know what happens. Make sure they understand.”
“...Understood.”
Hemus swallowed hard, dreading what Damian had planned at such an early hour.