Tucker gazed at the militiamen sprawled on the ground with a satisfied smile. They had endured nearly two hours of attacks from both watchmen, and even though there were a few minutes of breaks in between, it was a worthy feat. Even Eric failed to hide his surprise after the first hour had passed. Their expectations after the first exercise were low, but after the second, there was a chance for them to turn things around.

  There were only two requirements for all the soldiers in the fortress city. One was to complete basic aura training, and the second was to form their second star. Only those who had created their fourth star were eligible to be squires or fulfill other necessary roles within the Everheart Kingdom, but such a thing wasn’t possible for the militiamen. So instead, they were spread out within the outer perimeter as a source of manpower.

  It was common knowledge that any soldier needed the capability to use some aura, but from what he had seen, there was a small group within the militiamen who had formed their third star. Those were the noteworthy individuals that had something to prove.

  Tucker stood before the men and nodded with his arms crossed before his chest. “You’ve done well to endure this far, but this is just the start. For now, head back to the barracks and rest. That’s all the training you’ll need to do today, but expect more in the upcoming days.”

  Jones, Liam, and Nemo all looked up from the cold dirt floor. Their muscles screamed in pain, and the dirt that clung to their faces after mixing with their sweat made them look miserable. Yet at that moment, they shared the same thought as every other militiaman there.

  It gets even worse than this?!

  They wanted to cry out in protest, but their limbs trembled uncontrollably. Even those who tried to stand had given up and resorted to dragging their bodies to their quarters. Once the last person had crawled out of the courtyard, Eric grinned. “This sure brings back memories of our training days.”

  “Yeah, except it’s way worse than that. We didn’t get to use aura, and it only tested our physical capabilities,” Tucker replied.

  “True, but seeing how they approach each problem is refreshing. They devised some pretty creative solutions for replacing their exhausted members with those in the back.” Eric stroked his chin, recalling the two single-file gaps in the militia’s formation that allowed the shield bearers to efficiently swap back and forth. “It’s something that squires use.”

  “They need to draw inspiration from somewhere. If they can learn from observing the other platoons, then they have potential.” Tucker stood back and slowly exhaled. “But after today, it makes me wonder if we should proceed with the next step.”

  “Well, I don’t see why not.” Eric grinned with a sharp gleam in his eyes. “There’s no point in changing our plans if our goal is to turn them into hardened soldiers.”

  Tucker scratched the back of his head with a troubled expression. Eric was right to some extent, but the militiamen weren’t like them. There wasn’t the expectation for them to perform like the watchmen. So was it right to hold them to the same standards?

  They would probably hate him for the amount of grief he gave them, but as Tucker’s gaze drifted to the castle on the hill. The weight on his shoulders vanished. It didn’t matter if they hated him or if the training was too brutal. As long as they were still alive to hate him, then he would do whatever it takes to train them.

  “Very well, then. We’ll proceed with the plan.” Tucker adjusted his hat and gave a simple salute to Eric, who returned the gesture.

  Now that the day was coming to an end, he could leave the nighttime portion of training to Eric. The only issue left for Tucker to handle was the matter involving their equipment, and for that, he would need to pay someone a little visit. The very same person who threw him in this role without a single care in the world, and after calling him out of the blue, Tucker was absolutely sure that the commander would provide some sort of—.

  .

  .

  .

  “No,” Carl’s cold voice cut through the air.

  “No? What do you mean, no?” Tucker furrowed his brows and placed his hand on Carl’s desk. “You told me to train them. How the hell am I supposed to train them when their equipment’s about to fall apart?”

  “Must I repeat myself, watchman?” Carl sat there behind his desk, hidden by the piles of papers that blocked the sunlight. Without batting an eye, he turned the page and read the next report. “I asked you to train them, not to increase our expenses.”

  “Right, and this is part of their training. How can you expect their best performance if their equipment isn’t to standard? What they have right now is the cheapest material that meets the minimum requirements.” Tucker placed his hand on the report, forcing Carl to stop his work. “Listen, if you wanted to give them a fighting chance. Then the least you can do is improve their equipment, sir.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  ”Ha…” Carl looked up and cupped his hands together before him with his elbows resting on the wooden table. “With what results? It’s been a day, and you come back into my office asking to arm three hundred men with brand new equipment.”

  “It doesn’t have to be anything special, just adequate enough to not break under our attacks.”

  “Under your attacks… no wait, what the hell are you putting the militia through?”

  Tucker froze for a moment before glancing to the side. “It’s difficult to remember because their equipment is so bad.”

  “You…” Carl closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against his cupped hands. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pain in the ass to deal with?”

  “Quite a few people actually, but that’s besides the point.” Tucker took a step back and gazed out the window. “I told you I would train them, but if you’re going to treat them like shit, then what’s the point?”

  “Treat them like shit?” Carl’s frown deepened. “Explain.”

  “When we assembled the militia and had them gathered with their gear in the courtyard, it was all in shambles. Worn iron swords and shields that seemed like they would fall apart in the slightest touch.” Tucker’s eyes met Carl’s with a hard, unyielding stare. “Luckily, their shields were well-maintained enough to endure our attacks with aura, but the training itself wasn’t supposed to include aura.”

  “Their equipment shouldn’t be worn. The fortress provides all members with brand new iron equipment.”

  “Not from what I saw.”

  “Then they must have neglected their gear.”

  “I would argue otherwise. We made them carry two soaked sandbags through the compound while running laps, and none of them left their weapons behind. If they neglected their gear, then they wouldn’t bother carrying it with them. They would leave it behind.”

  Carl reflected on Tucker’s words in his head. If he were to take the watchman’s word for face value, then that would be the same as ripping off an old bandage to discover a rotting wound. Somewhere within the fortress walls was someone embezzling funds. It would be easy to verify this information once it comes into light. He would just need to assign the appropriate manpower to do so, but that itself was another problem. There wasn’t enough manpower to spare, and to sow discord in such a crucial time was beyond foolish. However, it was frustrating to deal with those constantly working against him, and it was unbearable to discover the possibility of those sabotaging them.

  The commander rubbed the dark circles under his black eyes with his index finger and thumb. Playing out the scenarios in his head before leaning back in his chair. After careful consideration, he had reached a conclusion. If the militia Captain Welford was training had worn gear, then most likely the other militia forces in the fortress were experiencing the same difficulties. It would be far more foolish to let this misdeed go unpunished.

  That being said, Carl couldn’t just let Tucker walk away after causing such a ruckus. It was bad enough that the Empire was advancing on their position, but to have someone who was a captain and a watchman barge into his office unannounced all the time would be another set of headaches. At least while Tucker was still here, he might as well test his character.

  “Then let’s say they didn’t neglect their equipment, and the fault was with the fortress’s management. They should have filed a complaint and protested.” Carl’s words were clear and concise. “Issues should have been pointed out before they reached a certain point, not after.”

  “They’re militiamen! You can’t expect them to know that they can file a complaint and protest,” Tucker countered.

  “They should know better than that, Captain Welford, and you would be a fool to tell me otherwise.” Carl dug into Tucker’s argument. “If they knew something was wrong, it’s their responsibility to point it out. How can the fortress properly manage and allocate funds if our own men are withholding information?”

  “If that was the case, then what’s the friction now? Why can’t we give them better weapons now?”

  “Because we lack the funds to do. There’s a cost to everything, and we can’t get a refund on the equipment after so much time has passed.”

  There was truth in Carl’s words, but Tucker couldn’t back down here. He needed to secure better equipment for the militiamen; otherwise, their training would be hampered. “Then take the funds from our salaries.”

  “You think the salary of five men would be enough to supply three hundred?”

  “Well… realistically, it would be the salary of just the three of us,” Tucker pointed out.

  “That doesn’t make it any better.”

  “Perhaps not, but over time, it would be enough to cover the basic equipment for everyone.” Tucker sat down in the chair across from Carl and smirked. “That or you could give us a loan.”

  “A loan? Ha!” Carl tapped the surface of his desk while leaning back in his chair. His lips curled upwards at the idea, but soon a better one came to mind. “It’s an interesting offer, but one that isn’t good enough. Instead, I want the opportunity to call in a favour.”

  “A favour? What kind of favour?”

  “That’s something only the future will know.” Carl watched as a flash of unease flickered in the young watchman’s eyes. “Relax, it won’t be anything that would cross a line. I won’t even make you do that spirit oath of yours.”

  “Then it would just be a verbal agreement.”

  “Exactly.”

  Tucker sat still and tilted his head from one side to another. He took out a small polished coin from his pouch and placed it on the table. Like how the Order exchanged a coin with the dwarves. He would do the same with the commander. “In that case, take this. Once you want to call in that favour, you can return that coin to me.”

  The commander glanced at the coin and then back at Tucker. It was a tradition that was honored by the watchmen of old, but he had never expected the next generation to inherit such beliefs. Before he knew it, Carl had broken out in a smile.

  “Very well, then. It seems like we have a deal.” Carl’s stern voice echoed through the office. “For now, I’ll personally review your platoon's equipment and see what I can do. Is there anything else?”

  “No, that would be all, sir.” Tucker rose from his seat and saluted the commander.

  “Good, you’re dismissed.” Carl returned the salute and waited until the door closed before letting out a tired sigh. Another problem had fallen on his plate, but it was a small price to pay to see the character of the man before him. He had some doubts after reading Salamander's recommendation. However, the more he spoke to Tucker, the more he grew fond of the young watchman. The training method sounded interesting, and Tucker's care in preparing his men for such training was admirable. Now it was a question as to whether they would live up to his expectations.