I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills

Chapter 21: Deployment (2)

Three weeks and two days.

That was how long it took from the declaration of the conquest war to the departure ceremony.

The schedule was slightly delayed compared to the initial two weeks the viscount had mentioned.

I had expected as much.

These things always took longer than planned.

“Finally, it’s time to march! Are you all ready to smash the faces of those corpse-loving bastards?”

“Keep formation and follow, there’s a lot of us!”

I led the mercenary band toward Burken Fortress alongside the ever-noisy platoon leaders.

For reference, Brol took charge of the spearman unit, while Karen led the crossbowmen.

Olif was nominally the platoon leader of the swordsmen, but he mainly handled special operations.

He was practically a human weapon—a knight.

It felt like a waste to use him solely as a commander.

“Phew! No more sleeping rough!”

“End? What end? Once we march, it’s back to sleeping rough.”

The outskirts of the village were bustling.

Before my eyes stretched an endless line of tents.

They were haphazardly set up, encircling Burken Village.

Their owners were none other than mercenaries gathered from all corners.

“Hey, you bastard, stop stuffing your face and get up! Haven’t you heard the departure news?”

Mercenaries were hurriedly dismantling their camps.

One guy, munching on a roasted potato, got smacked on the back of his head by a comrade.

Others had already packed and were checking their gear before departure.

These were the mercenaries who, unable to find a room in the village, had been camping outside.

It had been weeks since the news of war spread.

Countless mercenaries had flocked to this remote fortress seeking work.

Burken Village, a small settlement in the borderland of Baron Burken’s territory, had no means to accommodate the thousands of mercenaries who arrived.

Inn rooms had long been fully booked.

Even spare rooms in private homes had skyrocketed in price.

Most mercenaries were reduced to sleeping rough outside the village.

Of course, my mercenary band, having secured rooms long-term well in advance, was an exception.

This was why securing real estate early was so important.

“Captain.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a new handkerchief. Did Alina, the apprentice priestess, give it to you?”

Olif, walking silently by my side like a guard, asked.

He was referring to the white handkerchief tucked between the chest and neck of my armor.

“Correct.”

“There’s a saying among Imperial soldiers: ‘If you carry an item given by a priest, you’ll return alive even from a deadly battlefield.’”

It was a well-known superstition.

Perhaps that was why Alina had given me the handkerchief during our late-night meeting.

I wasn’t sure if a church priestess should indulge in soldiers’ superstitions, but…

Well, considering I had tucked it prominently into my armor, I was in no position to judge.

“Luark’s blessing, huh? I suppose I’ll need to stick close to you during this conquest, Captain.”

Olif smiled.

It was his way of easing the tension with a light joke.

I wasn’t particularly one to follow superstitions.

A handkerchief wasn’t going to make enemy arrows miss me.

But playing this luck-based, RNG-heavy game long enough made me believe, at times, in the providence of an unseen hand.

It was like board game enthusiasts shouting about the dice gods.

In the distance, the fortress walls came into view.

The sound of war trumpets echoed.

Buuuu—

The area in front of the fortress walls was already teeming with people.

A soldier, seemingly in charge of administration, approached me.

“Are you the Ash Mercenary Band?”

“Yes.”

“Your waiting area is over there. You remember your position in the marching formation, correct?”

I went to the designated spot and waited.

Since there was still time before departure, I passed the time munching on bread and cheese I had prepared.

As time went on, more people gathered in front of the fortress.

Spearmen clad in chainmail.

Carts pulled by horses and mules.

Mercenaries polishing shiny iron helmets.

Knights on horseback.

Merchants selling goods.

Mortars covered with cloth.

Village residents gathered to watch.

As the sun neared its zenith, someone appeared atop the fortress wall.

Brown beard. Blue eyes. Ornate armor and sword.

It was Archduke Gabir.

“Three hundred years have passed since Yulister von Zarhill, the traitor known as the Vampire Duke, unlawfully occupied the Empire’s land.”

His voice, amplified by aura, resonated across the open field in front of the fortress.

At the same time, a faint veil of mana silently enveloped the entire area.

“For three hundred years, the Empire, under Luark’s light, gave ample time for repentance! Yet Duke Yulister chose the path of darkness!”

The clamor of the crowd, which had been like a bustling marketplace, quieted instantly.

Thousands of gazes fixed on the Archduke in unison.

My gaze, however, was briefly directed at the air.

[Deploying Warrior’s Insight.]

[Skill acquired.]

[Wide-Area Silence (Level 4)]

‘…So that’s how I got it.’

A mid-tier spell of the Wind School.

A quintessential non-combat skill, neither offensive nor defensive.

Of course, non-combat skills could still be used in battle.

In particular, the Wide-Area Silence technique was often used when concealing a unit’s movements.

‘So, non-combat skills count as “practical” if they’re used with clear intent instead of killing intent.’

This allowed me to hypothesize the conditions for acquiring non-combat skills, which I couldn’t figure out solely through sparring with Karen.

I’d need to test further to confirm, but for now—

“…Warriors of the Empire! Drive out the traitor and purify that land!”

The Archduke’s speech was nearing its end.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As he concluded, cannons positioned behind the fortress walls fired blanks in unison.

Buuuu—

Thump! Thump! Thump!

War trumpets blared, and the military band beat their drums.

Cheers and applause thundered, echoing off the fortress walls.

“Vanguard—forward!”

“Forward!”

Soon after, the vanguard, positioned farthest from the fortress, began to move.

The units lined up in front of the walls followed in order, forming a long tail.

“All units, marching formation!”

“Marching formation!”

It was our turn.

“Forward.”

“Forward!!”

Leading the spearmen, swordsmen, and crossbowmen, I stepped forward.

The conquest army began its march in a long, threadlike formation, heading south from Burken Fortress.

Toward the lands outside the Empire.

Toward the cursed Vampire Archduchy.

***

The conquest army numbered about nine thousand.

One thousand were the Archduke’s and viscount’s private soldiers.

Three thousand five hundred were Imperial troops brought by the Archduke for inspection.

One thousand five hundred were Imperial troops conscripted from Burken Fortress and surrounding territories for the war.

Five hundred were church soldiers.

And finally, two thousand five hundred were mercenaries.

Clank. Clank. Clank…

With such a large force, the sound of footsteps was almost grating.

Unlike 21st-century armies, everyone here wore armor with metal bits, which made it louder.

Though, to be fair, I might have been a bit oversensitive.

I had been fine until we started marching.

“Phew. Phew.”

There were three stages to human exhaustion.

The first was sweating and shortness of breath.

The second was when your ears started ringing, and surrounding sounds became irritating.

The third was…

“The sky… phew… starts spinning… phew… and consciousness… fades…”

Damn it.

Did I just say my thoughts out loud?

I thought I was in the second stage, but I was nearly at the third.

I had assumed Basic Stamina would keep me going, but…

Without it, I probably would’ve collapsed already.

Pushing aside stray thoughts, I moved my legs, which felt like wooden blocks.

Buu—Buu—

Finally, the trumpet sounded twice.

The signal for rest.

“Phew…!”

“Ugh!”

As soon as we shifted to rest formation, everyone collapsed in a heap.

Marching in broad daylight was physically taxing.

Even veteran mercenaries and elite soldiers struggled under the blazing southern sun.

“Hahaha! Refreshing, ain’t it? How’s the water still so cold in this heat?”

“Haha, that’s the ranger’s secret.”

…Or maybe not.

Was I the only one struggling?

Anyway, it was the second day since departure.

The conquest army rested every hour, moving relentlessly.

We took longer breaks at noon, marching from dawn until sunset.

It was a somewhat grueling pace, but the early stages required speed.

The deeper we ventured into enemy territory, the more cautiously we’d need to move.

“Captain! Try this. Cold water! Ice-cold!”

“…Sure.”

“Chug it down! It’s not even mine!”

“Brol, you old man!!”

Marching at night, when temperatures were lower, would reduce stamina loss, but…

Night marches were exponentially harder.

Preparing for ambushes by vampires, who had natural night vision, was that much more difficult.

By the way, this water was genuinely cold.

Was the canteen made from ice deer hide?

“Still, we’re lucky.”

“…?”

“At least our guys don’t have blisters.”

I handed the half-empty canteen back to Karen.

“I saw other mercenary bands struggling to pop blisters for their newbies. Thanks to you stocking up on socks, we’re all fine.”

Oh, that.

My wallet was still reeling from that expense.

Socks were pricey here, so most people used wide cloth wraps instead.

They were surprisingly comfortable, but…

During marches, they caused blisters easily.

“Well, thanks for that. For caring.”

“Who else would do it if not me?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean. What mercenary captain dips into their own pocket to buy socks for their crew?”

Brol grumbled.

It seemed this bearded middle-aged man found this kind of conversation a bit embarrassing.

As he stood to check on the crew, his back looked reassuringly solid.

I’d rest a bit more, then get up myself.

One of a mercenary captain’s duties was to encourage the crew, after all…

Buuuu—

The departure trumpet.

Damn it.

***

The conquest army continued its march for several days.

The first three days were fast-paced, but afterward, we slowed slightly.

The deeper we went into enemy territory, the higher the chance of encountering their forces.

Thanks to that, even those of us with lower stamina, including me, regained some breathing room.

Buu—Buu—

The rest trumpet sounded.

Over the past few days, rest signals had become more frequent.

It wasn’t just for stamina management.

The Vampire Archduchy’s dangers weren’t limited to their undead armies, scorching sunlight, or land and water tainted by necromantic mana.

Buu! Buu!

Two short trumpet blasts.

A signal for a small-scale skirmish.

Part of the formation had encountered a wandering group of undead roaming the tainted land.

There were two main reasons the dead walked in vampire territory.

Either they were raised by necromancy but lost control when their master died, or long exposure to necromantic mana had turned abandoned corpses into undead.

In both cases, the result was similar.

They wandered the dead land slowly, then charged with explosive energy when they sensed the living.

It was the twisted fate of the dead, feeding on the vitality of the living.

Of course, it wasn’t worth expending the entire army’s strength on a few dozen zombies or skeletons.

Minor skirmishes were handled by nearby units.

The frequent rests were partly to wait for them.

Buuuu—

Another trumpet.

This time, it was the signal for battle formation.

I quickly rallied my crew and moved at a brisk pace.

Cavalry rode around, directing the formation change.

“Battle stations! Battle stations!”

Enemies?

No, more like preparation.

Given the distance and route we’d traveled, it was about time we reached their stronghold.

“Maintain formation and advance!”

As expected, we didn’t immediately clash with the enemy.

The conquest army, now in battle formation, advanced slowly.

After crossing a hill, a fortress wall came into view.

Walls covered in vines. Dull, ashen spires bearing the marks of time.

“Units, halt.”

“Halt!!”

The flagbearer waved, and I gave the order.

The Imperial troops, marching in sync, stopped in unison.

Mercenary bands, less trained in such drills, took an extra step or two before awkwardly settling into place.

My unit?

No need to ask.

We halted as precisely as the seasoned Imperial troops, stomping in unison.

“….”

I could feel the other mercenary captains watching us with odd looks.

A ticklish feeling in my gut made my lips curl upward.

Three weeks of training hadn’t been for nothing.

“….”

“…Captain?”

“Your expression’s a bit… creepy, isn’t it?”

By the way, the vampires showed no reaction.

With nearly ten thousand enemies approaching, you’d expect some movement.

Yet, atop the fortress walls, there wasn’t a single necromancer or even a polished skull in sight.

“A trap…?”

Someone whispered faintly.

It was possible.

Or maybe they’d truly abandoned the fortress.

Staring from afar wouldn’t reveal the truth.

If I were the commander, the best course of action in this case would be…

“Mortar teams! Fire!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The mortars at the rear of the formation roared to life.

Right. Better to test the waters before crossing.

The Empire’s four great strengths included gunpowder, after all.