PRESENT TIME - 2 DAYS AWAY – FROM GIGGADON EMPIRE’S SOUTHERN TERRITORY, FIRST DEFENSE LINE FORTRESS’S - REAR BASE CAMP. 

The resounding echoes of blades slicing through the air, the clang of metal meeting metal, and the rhythmic clatter of horses' hooves reverberated throughout the base camp. Knights engaged in spirited sparring sessions on the training grounds, while others casually wandered, immersed in diverse preparations. Some meticulously inspected their weapons, searching for any indications of wear, honed their blades with precision, and found moments for quiet meditation. Despite being in the rear, their readiness matched that of those positioned at the front lines. 

“We’re finally here…”
uttered one of the five hooded figures, as they approached the entrance of the rear base camp on horseback.

*CLOMP*
*CLOMP*

 "Yeah, it was a hell of a rush, but at least we arrived a day earlier, thanks to the shortcut Little John discovered. Now, we should get what we came for and leave before the sun sets. With any luck, we might even reach the frontlines before the battle begins," 

The hooded figure leading the group said in a hushed tone as they drew closer to the camp's entrance. With swift motion, they all dismounted their horses, the hoods of their cloaks concealing their features in shadow. Taking a firm hold of the reins, they guided their steeds by their sides as they advanced on foot, approaching the knights stationed as guards at the entrance. 

*SWOOSH*
*CLOMP*
*THUD*

"We could have gotten here faster if we had just used the Teleportation platform at the Fortress,"
 Thorne said, removing his hood to unveil his face. A menacing-looking figure in his thirties, he possessed dirty red hair, a scruffy beard, and also missing a left eye. 

*RUSTLE*
*CLOMP*

"Yeah, we might have considered it if we could spare the 50 Gold (Veru) travel fee,"

 Little John replied with a jesting tone. He too removed his hood, unveiling his face—a youthful appearance that seemed just over twenty, characterized by bright brown hair and a scar on his forehead. 

*RUSTLE*

“PFFT!...HAHAHAHA!”
“KE-HAHAHAHA!”
They all laughed, at the ridiculous amount.

********************************************** 
A FEW MOMENTS LATER.
 
 They reached the entrance of the base. Grey, Gerald, and Keal removed their hoods, revealing their faces to the knight guards. Simultaneously, they handed over their mercenary identification badges, confirming their identities. 

“Tch, D-rank. I thought they were some famous high-ranking S-rank mercenaries from their outfit. At least they might be more useful on the battlefield, but it turns out to be some gutter trash. How annoying,” 
The knight muttered to himself with an irritated tone and expression, vexed by the sight of the mercenaries before him. 

“I know why you're here…” 
The knight said, pausing as he walked up to Gerald. 

“...Many of your kind have been prattling in and out of our base since 'that' order was issued. So, I'll cut to the chase. I advise you to get what you came for and leave before it gets dark.”

 He delivered the warning with a threatening tone, locking eyes with Gerald. Then, he extended his hand forward, holding their guild badge. As Gerald attempted to retrieve them, the knight deliberately dropped the badges. 

*WHOOSH*
*THUD*
*CLACK* 

‘Kekekeke’
‘Hehehehehe...’
Witnessing the knight's disrespectful actions, the other knights snickered in the background. 

“...”
Unfazed by their ridicule, Gerald squatted to pick up the badges. 

“...Ptooey!”
Annoyed by Gerald's unfazed expression, the Knight spat on Gerald’s hand just as he was about to pick up the badges. 

“THIS FUCKER!-”

Gray reacted angrily after witnessing the knight's actions. Preparing to confront the knight, he started walking forward towards him. 

“NO!”
Gerald said, turning to Gray with a serious expression as he stopped him, placing his palm on Gray's chest to prevent him from taking action. He knew initiating a fight with this knight would never result in anything good. As he noticed the badge hanging down the knight's belt—a bronze badge with two bronze swords engraved on it—he realized that the man standing in front of them was a 'two sword private' with the strength of a 2nd class Grandmaster. Even if they had a chance to win against him, it would be foolish to engage in a brawl in a place filled with knights. 

*BAM*

“GRRR...”
Gray grumbled, suppressing the urge to punch the knight in the face. However, he understood why Gerald stopped him, even after enduring such disrespect. 

“...?!”
The knight noticed Gray's furious glare. He walked up to Gray with an intimidating posture, and after getting close, he stared him in the eye. 

*THUD*
*THUD*

"...Mercenary, is there something you would like to say?" The knight asked with a tone carrying a hint of threat, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. 

*CLANK*

“...”
Even though he had much he wanted to say, Gray could only stare at him in silence, containing his anger. 

"Kekeke, I thought so."
 The knight said, stepping back with a smirk on his face. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 
TWO MINUTES LATER INSIDE THE REAR BASE.

“ ARRGH! Fuck those Pompous sons of a bitches, treating us like we are some street rats, do they really think they’re that better than us!”
Gray complained in a loud, angry tone and expression. Expressing his dissatisfaction with how the knights treated them. 

“Shhh! Gray, if you speak that loud, you just asking them to hear you.”
Little John whispered, cautioning Gray as he glanced around at the passing knights who seemed to be staring at them as they walked through the camp. 

“Hmph, why should I be quiet when we are the ones being treated like shit! we came to fight for the empire and this is how they treat us! even going as far as to charge us two silver each just for placing our horse in the stables.”
Gray exclaimed, his tone filled with frustration and anger. 

“ I agree with Gray, making us pay for placing our horses in the stables, doesn’t sit right with me either.”
Thorne complained, his tone and expression reflecting his dissatisfaction as he counted the remaining silver in his coin pouch. 
 
"Well, it's not like we can blame them. In their eyes, we're just a bunch of 'loser mercenaries,' the leftovers who couldn't hack it as knights even after draining the imperial barracks' resources for three years as trainees.” 
Keal, who was walking behind the rest, remarked in a reflective tone. 

“...”

Upon hearing Keal's words, Gerald, Gray, Thorne, and Little John all wore solemn expressions. They recognized that what he said was not a mere lie but an uncomfortable truth they would prefer to forget. 

"He is right. We all know he is, but we try to deny the reality because, even as mercenaries, we also have our pride as men to protect... But what good is pride in a world where only strength, money, and status speak? The only focus we—I should have, is getting my hands on a 'War merit badge.' Only with it can I change something," 
Gerald reflected in his mind, his expression turning serious and determined.

[WAR MERIT BADGE: A magical tool issued by the imperial army during wartime, equipped with the ability to tally both the quantity and quality of lives taken by its owner. These achievements are then converted into corresponding merit points, which can be utilized to exchange for currency, military ranks, and, upon accumulating sufficient merit, even a noble title...] 

“So what if we couldn’t hack it...”
Gray said, pausing his words, as he halted his steps, with his head down. With a tense atmosphere around him that felt like he was about to explode with fury.

 “...Our talents just bloomed later than others, that’s all. BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE LET THESE FRILLS-WEARING FUCKERS IN THEIR FANCY NEW ARMOR DISRESPECT US! ”
Gray said in a loud, audible voice, getting the attention of every knight within hearing distance. 

“!!!!”
Gerald, Thorne, Keal, and Little John all wore shocked expressions, reacting to Gray's bold statement. 

Almost immediately after Gray spoke those words, all the knights reacted, turning their gaze towards Gray, Gerald, Thorne, Keal, and Little John, their expressions filled with killing intent. 

*SWOOSH*

“Gary! This fucker just fucked us.”
Gerald, Thorne, Keal, and Little John thought simultaneously in their minds, panic evident on their faces after sensing the killing intent coming from the knights. 

‘What did that rat-like bastard just say?!’
‘I think he said something about my armor.’
 ‘I knew letting this rat like fuckers, join the army was a bad idea. Now they even dare to insult us.’
Loud chatter began as every knight close by gathered towards Gray, Gerald, Thorne, Keal, and Little John, surrounding them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FEW MINUTES LATER-INNER CAMP- KNIGHT COMMANDER’S TENT.

A distinct rustling sound echoed as the flap of the tent was lifted. The entrance revealed several knights dragging in Gray, Gerald, Thorne, Keal, and Little John, their hands bound by a tightly knotted rope. 

*RUSTLE*
*WHOOSH*

The tent flap settled back into place, enclosing the scene within. Amidst the dirt and blood-stained ground, Gerald grimaced in pain his body bearing the marks of the injuries sustained. 

“Cough!... keugh. They... they finally stopped.” 
Gerald muttered, catching his breath. His eyes shifted to the right, where Gray, Thorne, Keal, and Little John lay in a similarly battered state.

“Phew... these bastards are still kicking.”
Gerald thought to himself. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he saw that, despite the rough punishment they had received, his comrades were still breathing. 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOT GETTING ON YOUR KNEES, YOU FUCKING RAT BASTARDS!?" 
yelled a knight, his aggression palpable. The air whistled as the knight's leg swung through, connecting with Gerald's face with brutal force. 

*SWOOSH*
*BANG*

"UGH!...COUGH." 
Gerald groaned in pain, blood staining his lips as he coughed. 

“Still not getting up you bastards!”
the knight barked, readying himself for another strike. 

"ENOUGH!"
 The authoritative voice sliced through the tension, demanding instant obedience. A formidable figure, towering with fiery red hair, a meticulously groomed full beard, and a visage that made adversaries second-guess their choices, strode into the tent, casting an imposing presence that instantly seized everyone's attention. 
 
*WHOOSH*
*RUSTLE*
*THUD*

"Yes, Commander Sir!"
 echoed through the tent, a chorus of respectful tones from all the knights present. They snapped into salutes as the imposing figure walked past them, acknowledging his authority with unwavering respect. 

*THUD*
*THUD*

“??!!...”
Gerald's surprise was palpable as he heard the abrupt change in the arrogant knights' tones. Struggling with his swollen eye, he looked up, his vision blurry, and caught a fleeting glimpse of the imposing figure walking past. but In that moment, he saw the figure’s badge.

“If a wooden badge represents a Knight trainee, a bronze badge a Knight private, a silver badge a Knight Sergeant. Then a Golden badge signifies a Knight Lieutenant, and his badge has four golden swords crossing, indicating that he is a lieutenant who has achieved 7th class Grandmaster.”
Gerald thought to himself, realizing the status of the monster who had just walked in, clarifying the reason for the abrupt shift in the knights' demeanor.

*BAM*
*CREAK*
*RUMBLE*

The ground trembled beneath the weight of authority as the commander settled into his stone chair behind a massive table. Crafted from the toughest wood sourced from the northern territory of the Giggadon Empire, the table bore witness to countless strategic discussions and decisions. 

“Hmm... so what should I do with you bastards.”
Mused[Lieutenant Balt Clayledge, commander of the southern front’s first defense line rear base.] setting his gaze on Gerald, Gray, Thorne, Keal, and Little John.

Thank you Patreons for your continued support: Timothy, Liam Curtis, and Teresa.