“Why is there a hole in the ceiling again?!” Bartrem stared at the soldiers one by one as they stood straight beside their bed. Aldred was standing too with Mary behind him.

Bartrem approached a soldier. He noticed dark bags under their eyes. “I told you there will be a battle today. Why are you staying up late?”

The soldiers looked at each other. Aldred looked down. Yesterday, he could not fell asleep and greatly aroused. It was weird. He did not know why that happened. He tried sucking the milk from Mary’s breast to relief the sensation but it did not for the whole night.

So, just like the other soldiers, he had dark bags under his eyes as well. His comrades could not possibly said that they got aroused all night. That would be too embarrassing.

“We don’t know, sir.”

Bartrem snorted. He looked at the ceiling. Who the hell made this hole. It happened yesterday, and now it happened again. Was it one of Pharder’s men? What were their intention in creating holes in the ceiling?

“Prepare yourself and eat some breakfast.”

“Yes, sir.”

The soldiers did their usual routine; wear the shirts, don the armor, and strode out of the barrack. They went for the cafeteria where the soldiers eat. Pressure Platoon II had their own place at the very quiet corner. The other soldiers gave them a side-mocking glance.

A total outcast._-.

Aldred did not expect it would be that bad. He followed Bartrem walking to the table and sat down. Mary sat beside him.

“Will it be the usual bland soup and hard bread?” Aldred asked. He regretted asking it because the atmosphere was already depressing enough.

The server came with a tray of plates. He put down of what Aldred expect to be baby food but wasn’t. It was roasted chicken with vegetables and rice, dressed with curry on the side. Steam came out of the bowl. It smelt so nice. His stomach growled just by looking at it.

“This is new,” Mary said. “Isn’t that good, Aldred?”

Aldred nodded. “All this time we have never been served something like this before. Did Pharder died?”

“If he died, then this fort would be run over,” Bartrem said.

“Shouldn’t we start eating?” Aldred asked.

“Yes. Eat quickly. We gather at the south gate after that.”

Aldred nodded and grabbed his bowl. The smell became stronger. He grabbed a wooden spoon and scoop in the rice, meat, and curry. His eyes stared at the food. It was unbelievable that he could be so happy by looking at what should be a mediocre food back in his floating castle. Maybe this was what called being grateful.

He put the spoon in his mouth. His mouth jerked, and blew the heat out. The rice was too hot for him.

“You have to be careful, Aldred. Let me feed you.” Mary took the spoon and put the food in her mouth. She chewed, and then kissed Aldred before inserting the food in.

‘Ay, yo what!?’ Aldred widened his eyes as Mary inserted the food in his throat. Her tongue moved around in his mouth as it pushed the food inside. It felt smooth and sweet. His lips moved by itself and suck it on her tongue. He gulped, pulling the food inside and making more room for their throat to play.

Mary liked how small and cute Aldred’s tongue was, so she continued to play with it.

Their comrades watching this forget about the food and stared in a daze. Jeffery blushed when he looked at this scene.

Bartrem scratched his head while pressing his lips against each other.

Mary pulled her tongue out. A sticky saliva connected from her tongue to his. “Is the food still hot?”

“It was good.”

“Want me to feed you again?”

Why not. He only lived once. Or twice in his case. Mary considered herself to be his mother, then why not become her son? It was okay having more than one mom.

Mary fed him again the same as earlier. She did this until Aldred’s bowl was empty.

Bartrem cleared his throat. “Since everyone is done. Let’s gather at the south gate.”

Aldred said his goodbye to Mary. She could not go with him on the battlefield because Pharder told her to guard the fort. Everyone knew the captain just want to prevent her from protecting the platoon.

The cafeteria was located in the Winesquare district. There were three district within the fort; Fogpark in the west, Elm Orchard in th east, and Winesquare in the south.

Soldiers from other platoon, and companies jogged their way to the south gate. Most of them were squires with thin steel armor. Because Winesquare was close to the south gate, it did not take them long to arrive. Magicians ran along with them with their sport-type robe that stuck close to their body and only went below their knee slightly. Under the robe was long trouser, covering the whole legs.

It certainly enabled more movement than the robe he used to see in movies.

They arrived at the south gate. The soldiers here only numbered about three hundred. With such numbers, the army did not seem to plan for an all out attack. So probably just a little skirmish.

Skirmish that took lives.

Under the High-Knight’s command, the army marched forward. Their target was the same like before; defeat the enemy and destroy the outpost. The enemy was quite persistent in building that outpost.

Just like before, the two sides met a few hundred meters away from each other.

“Jasuce!”

“Jabuto!”

BOOM!

“That’s our signal! Attack!” Bartrem led the charge. He pulled his sword from his waist, making the sound of screeching metal. He put his fiery gaze forward. “Brace yourself!”

He bashed against the enemy formation. Aldred was following behind him. He summoned his undead. They stepped out of from the dark mist and charged forward. He had nineteen undead now. They were comprised of ogres, wolves, and humans.

An enemy soldier ran towards the undead ogre and slashed at its left shoulder. The ogres growled as the wounded shoulder regenerated.

The soldier widened his eyes. “Impossible! You vile creature should be damned by our prayer!”

The ogres did not care about the crap he said and slammed the man’s head with its club. The nails on club gnashed through the man’s face, killing him in an instant.

[EXP +350]

Aldred took a deep breath when he saw the corpse fell to the ground. ‘I am a soldier now,’ he told himself. ‘I must fight. I must kill or I will trouble my friend.’

An enemy knight charged towards him and swung his sword towards Aldred. He panicked and closed his eyes. Another knight came from the side and blocked the attack. It was Bartrem. “If you cannot kill for yourself, then at least kill for your comrades, boy. None of us really have the time to save your ass every time.”

Aldred nodded. He had to kill. He had to fight. He did not want to, but he had to. With a resolved roar, he charged upon a man and blasted his chest with a jet of flame coming out of his palm. He willed for the undead to come to his aid. They came towards him and protected him from all sides. “You guys protect my blind spot while I fight.”

Something told him that the undead understood his command, and so he attacked, charging forward and pointing with his index finger.

“Fire bullet.”

A flame the shape and size of a small bullet shot forward. It clanged against the armor. The soldier turned to look at him, frowning. The man slashed to the side, killing one of the soldier on Aldred’s side, before making his way towards the boy.

“So you are the master of these vile creatures. May our god, Zalous, shine the light of hope upon your soul. You’re a young boy, so it is most likely your sin will be forgiven.” The man’s sword was long and thick, edged on both sides.

It cut through Aldred’s left shoulder. He fell on his back. Aldred looked at the silhouette of the man raising the sword high.

“Pray that you’d born as the worshiper of Zalous in your next life.”

Blood splattered.