"What are you doing?" Gale asked the boy as he walked into his barrack; the shithole that he had called home for the last several years of his so-called life.

 

The timid boy's blonde hair flicked back as he turned his head from where he lay crouched down, gathering a pile of bottles into his winter blanket that he used as a makeshift sack.

 

He looked frightened. Like he was about to faint. All four corners joined together, and Milo let go of his grip on the blanket, letting the bottles tumble back to the floor.

 

The boy answered, "I—I'm sorry, Sir. I was just trying to clean up your bottles. If you don't want me to—"

 

"No, I don't mind," Gale said, interrupting him.

 

He let out a sigh.

 

"My name's Gale, last name Ares, not…'Sir'."

 

The boy gulped and nodded his head, "Yes, Mister Ares. Do you mind? I want to clean the place out."

 

Gale pursed his lips. He didn't know what to feel. Frustration? Confusion? Sadness?

 

Joy, even?

 

He let the boy be.

 

"Do what you want. But don't expect me to stop drinking," Gale explicitly said before plopping himself down in his regular spot. He put down the several bottles he had been carrying and cracked one right open with just his thumb.

 

As he was in the middle of chugging his first bottle, Milo spoke up as he gathered the bottles he previously dropped, his voice as shaky and timid as ever, "Sir—Gale, I mean. How do you…where do you get those bottles from? Overseer Rush wouldn't allow a [Slave] to drink so much wine. Especially not…"

 

Milo recognised the brand of the wine. It was the royal symbol. He knew this because that was the symbol that the tax collector would wear on his robes when he came to Kirkstead. He guessed that whatever Gale was drinking had to be something expensive.

 

In his past life, he never drank because he was too poor to buy any alcohol. He felt like he was missing out, like everything else he had missed out on during his time on earth.

 

But with what he had seen during these past months, he realised that his feelings were unfounded. Alcohol could be used to celebrate and have fun, but this was…

 

If one fell far enough, they could find themselves in a cold and empty void.

 

This was depravity beyond anything he had ever seen.

 

Night by night, Gale would down at least a dozen bottles. He would lay there, still and seemingly thoughtless. Sometimes, when that wasn't enough, he would leave in the middle of the night and come back with more.

 

He and Gale were only strangers, but he felt a connection between him and the giant. As if they had a lot more in common than he originally thought.

 

Watching him waste away saddened him. With Ostin gone, he could no longer ignore Gale. He had to help him—at least while he planned for his escape. He also had another idea.

 

What if they worked together? With Gale by his side…

 

It wouldn't be impossible. But it would definitely be difficult.

 

Milo could fight with his fists but the people of this world had tens of levels on him, skills, and other abilities that he wouldn't be able to predict in a fight.

 

If the giant was as strong as he looked, they could make it happen.

 

***

 

Gale felt like he was being interrogated. It was as if Milo was trying to learn all his life's secrets.

 

He answered the round-eyed boy as he gestured to the bottle in his hand, "I'm allowed to drink all this posh wine because the Emperor wants to put himself in my good books. He'll pay any price to bring me back. But I'm just a tool to him. Everyone is."

 

Milo's jaw dropped.

 

"You know the Emperor!?"

 

He didn't look up to the Emperor of the Grecia Empire. In fact, he despised him. Regardless, for Gale to be connected to someone so powerful was a shock to him.

 

"Yeah. I would've already killed him if I could," Gale revealed with regret in his voice.

 

Milo paused. He gave in to curiosity. He wanted—needed—to know the answer to this question.

 

"Gale, h-how strong are you?"

 

Gale raised an eyebrow, "Like my class and level?"

 

Milo nodded.

 

Gale deliberated momentarily before saying, "I know you're a curious kid but…I haven't checked my status in years. I don't want to remember, and I don't want to know either. It only reminds me of my past."

 

This only made Milo even more curious. But he couldn't bring himself to prod Gale any further. He guessed he would never know. A few moments later, he heard Gale whisper just loud enough for him to hear. He was left hanging for a long time, as Gale never finished what he was going to say.

 

"I might be "strong" in the normal sense of the word. But…"

 

Gale instead chuckled.

 

"Idiots, I tell you. They know nothing about true war."

 

***

 

Overseer Rush snorted and stabbed his cleaver into the chopping board.

 

"Why do you want to know about him?" Overseer Rush scoffed.

 

The kitchen was completely desolate this late at night. Overseer Rush, the [Bloody Cleaver] that ruled the mine with an iron fist, would always clean up for a second time after everyone else had left, even though the place didn't really need it.

 

Milo—far more confident after befriending Gale—said without stuttering once, "Because he doesn't tell me anything. The Emperor wants him back, right? I'm trying to help him."

 

Overseer Rush leaned over the counter as he moved his jaw from left to right. He sighed.

 

Rush pulled out a stool from beneath the counter with his foot, "Take a seat."

 

Milo was off-put by the hospitality. He was the de facto ruler of the mine. He should be treating him like a bug, not like this. But he didn't reject his offer.

 

He took a seat and listened keenly as Overseer Rush began telling a story from long ago.

 

"Gale was once a soldier in the army…"

 

***

 

Gale vomited into his armour, catching a few disgusted looks from his contemporaries. But no one said anything. That was because they were just as nervous as him.

 

Riding on a horse, their [Captain] combed through the lines shouting the same thing over and over again, "Hold the line!"

 

The enemy was advancing quickly, the orc's signature [Battle March] allowing their men to move at a full sprint while also maintaining a perfect formation. Brandishing axes, their bloodthirsty war cries rattled them.

 

If they failed here, then their main army wouldn't be able to arrive back in time to stop the subsequent destruction that would befall their people. The city-state of Grecia was small, and its standing army was untrained and low-level. Although they had a slight number advantage, four hundred compared to their five hundred, their advantage was levelled when considering the higher average level of the opposing army.

 

Soon, the enemy was upon them.

 

With one final [Battle Cry] from the [Captain], slightly raising their spirits, the orcs charged into them like a tsunami against a beach. Orcs jumped up, over, and into their line of spears, fearlessly impaling themselves upon their well-placed spears.

 

But the vitality of the orcs wasn't a joke. Many of them simply pulled out the spears and continued fighting, their [Berserker] classes allowing them to fight until their head was decapitated or they bled out from their injuries.

 

Spears were discarded for swords and shields. Unfortunately, all their drills fell to the wayside as the orcs penetrated through their ranks with ease, splitting them apart.

 

After that point in the battle, Gale didn't remember much. All he did remember was closing his eyes while he aimlessly swung around his sword, hoping that anything that tried to kill him would just miraculously die. He forgot about all his training and just fell into a trance.

 

[You are now a Level…]

 

Every now and then Gale would receive a notification from the system, but he ignored all of them. He was too busy fighting to care.

Levelling up could make him stronger and improve his chances of fighting, but the improvement was negligible and he didn't want to get distracted in the middle of a fight. He would only get one free attribute point a level, anyway. It was essentially nothing.

 

From time to time, he would hear a loud shout from his [Lieutenant] or the [Captain], but eventually they both stopped shouting altogether. The padded-down ground eventually became very uneven, and he had to step over things a lot more. His armour was no longer just soaked in vomit but in another strange liquid. At one point, he noticed that all the shouting was gone.

 

He opened his eyes and saw a scene of total carnage. Blood painted every single blade of grass red, and people lay on the ground with arrows, cleavers, and swords sticking out of them.

 

Several paces away, what remained of their army—seventeen men all up—looked at Gale in awe. They all looked like they had just been through hell and back.

 

Gale looked at himself. He blinked.

 

His entire body was covered in blood. A cleaver was stuck in the chest of his armour. There were two arrows in his right shoulder. Most shocking of all, his sword was chipped at the end.

 

He was as bad as the rest of them.

 

As Gale continued to gasp for air, one of the men took a step forward and said, "Captain, you did it."

 

Gale swallowed down saliva that had gathered into his mouth, while at the same time tasting something salty.

 

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Captain? Why are you callin' me that?"

 

The soldier was shocked when he heard this. He explained in a rush, "Captain, everyone saw you. [Captain] Jack and the rest of us were cheering your name while you were rampaging through the enemy ranks. It was as if the god of war had possessed you. You couldn't have been any higher than level 20 when the battle started. But now you're level 52!"

 

Gale felt like he was in a dream. It sure felt like it.

 

He opened up all his notifications and checked his status. He was frozen in shock.

 

[You have been blessed by the God of War!]

 

[The God of War has granted you the Legendary Ability: [Kill]!]

 

[You are now a Level 23 [Soldier]!]

 

[You are now a Level 24 [Soldier]!]

 

[You are now a Level 25 [Soldier]!]

 

[You may now upgrade your class!]

 

[Bypassing selection process. You have automatically been assigned a class!]

 

[You are now a Level 25 [Veteran Soldier]!]

 

[...]

 

[You are now a Level 50! [Veteran Soldier]!]

 

[You may now upgrade your class!]

 

[Bypassing selection process. You have automatically been assigned a class!]

 

[You are now a Level 50 [War Machine (Champion)]!]

 

[You have obtained the following Skills: [Killing Intent], [Limitless], [Instinct]!]

 

[You may now claim withheld Attribute Points: +50 Endurance, +50 Vitality, +50 Strength]

 

[You may now claim 200 Free Attribute Points! These points were previously withheld as you had an ordinary-tier class]

 

[The God of War is pleased! Succeed in battle and he will grant you more power]

 

Gale didn't know what to think.

 

But he knew one thing for sure. Destiny was calling, and he couldn't say no.