Soul of the Warrior

The sunlight glinted off the armor of the arranged mercenaries as they marched in neat rows through the open drill field. The recruits had finished their training, and the veterans who stayed on had dispersed through the much larger organization to make up the backbone of the newly formed Battalion.

Not all of the veterans were elevated to a leadership role. There just weren’t enough of them to go around, and not all of the previous leaders had decided to leave after the one tour. Even so, the newly integrated recruits still held a certain reverence for the ones who had seen actual combat in the previous deployment.

The many platoons marched in lock-step. They had been training long enough that their Marching Skill could ensure they were in-step at all times, but this was a ceremonial occasion. As such, there was an added squad of soldiers who had specialized in acoustic Affinities or Skills in the center of the entire outfight beating out a rhythm on drums with an accompanying instrumental tune.

The left foot of each troop fell on the beat of the bass as they Marched into position.

It was quite the sight to behold. They weren’t “professional” soldiers like the Imperial Army. They didn’t have fancy gilding on their armor, but they were at least wearing matching sets. The uniformity and precision lent its own grandeur that was aesthetically pleasing.

The first deployment had seen the mercenaries equip themselves for the most part. The logistics department had included spare weapons and armor in the supplies, but they were mostly generic and inferior goods compared to what the adventurers had been able to procure for themselves over the years.

That had changed after the company had returned. The payout they had received after all expenses were taken care of had been enough for the commanders to consider it a beneficial to supply uniform armor to the entire contingent. While the new recruits were training, they had not received anything special, but once they had graduated and been incorporated into the battalion, that had changed.

Instead of buying entire new sets of gear for every individual, though, they had mainly selected a common theme and everyone had had their gear, if they had it, altered to match the look. Nobody was wearing light armor, but not everyone was in medium armor. Some of the adventurers were more focused on heavy in-fighting and wore the heavy variant. One would not be able to tell at a glance, though.

It had been cheaper overall to alter the gear that already existed. Even with the profit from the first mercenary action, they might not have been able to afford an entire battalion’s worth of brand new armor. The alterations necessitated repairs, though, so it was almost the same thing.

The mercenaries came to a halt in their positions on the parade field and faced the front where a bevy of senior military personnel and nobility were watching the procession. The mercenary soldiers listened to the commands of their Platoon Commanders and executed their movements with sharp precision.

Gulley stood proud in his position as First Squad Squad Leader in one of the platoons. The majority of the squad leader positions were filled with veterans. Only a few had gone to new recruits, and none but Gulley were in the First Squad. He wasn’t in the First Platoon, but that wasn’t necessarily the ultimate platoon to aspire to. Some organizations were set up where the more experienced soldiers matriculated up as they gained experience until the First Platoon of the First Company was the foremost platoon in the entire battalion, with the same concept extrapolated up the organizational chain.

That was not the case for the mercenary company. Gulley assumed it was because of the longevity of the members, it’s what made the most sense, but either way, the mercenary company had evenly spread out their experienced troops across the entire battalion.

Gulley had lived his life in a leadership role from the very beginning, but none of his previous responsibilities had given him as much pride as his role as a squad leader in the mercenary battalion. This was the first leadership role he had earned instead of being given. It had a completely different flavor to it.

Not everyone shared his enthusiasm, though. He heard some grumblings coming from down the line in his squad. Now was not the time to lash out. There wasn’t a large audience fixated on their position, but any sudden movements would be sure to draw the eye, and not in a good way. He would need to speak to the offender after the ceremony was over.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t nothing he could do about it now, though.

Very slowly, so slowly that the movement couldn’t be perceived, Gulley turned his neck until he could make eye contact with one of his entourage that had followed him into the mercenary unit standing behind where the complaints were coming from. The man sensed something and shifted his eyes to meet Gulleys. An unspoken command was given.

The mercenary follower was positioned in the second row, so he had a little more leeway with movements. Still moving slowly so as not to draw unwanted attention, the man shifted his balance until his weight was on one foot, and he inched his other foot up into the air. When it was only a couple of inches away from making contact with the rear of the grumbling mercenary, he activated a Skill to swiftly cross the remaining inches to land a swift-kick to the rear of the complainer.

It wasn’t powerful enough to inflict any pain, much less damage, and it was a testament to their training that the offender didn’t lose his bearing and jump at the intrusion. It did get the message across, though, and the grumblings stopped.

Gulley imperceptibly nodded his head to his follower, and the man slowly lowered his leg back to position of attention. Nobody in the audience was the wiser to petty action that had taken place right in front of them during a military parade.

Even this little bit of internal disciplining without causing a scene swelled the pride Gulley felt in his chest.

There were no more incidents within Gulley’s platoon for the duration of the ceremony. There was a short speech given by the overall commander, Major Reivyn, and he personally inspected several squads at random before returning to the podium. They didn’t drag the whole thing out and inspect every individual soldier in the entire battalion.

In Gulley’s estimation, he would consider it to have been short but sweet. There was just enough pomp and circumstance without dragging everything out until everyone was bored.

Major Reivyn commended the trainers who had stayed behind from the first deployment for a job well-done, and then he simply dismissed them. He didn’t walk off like some of the other senior military members and nobility, though. He stood at attention and watched the entire procession as they marched past.

The platoons looped around so they Marched across the podium’s field of view one last time on their way out to the beat of the drums once more.

“Eyes! Right!”

Gulley, and everyone else in his platoon, snapped their heads to the right as they Marched directly in front of the podium. The Platoon Commander performed a salute with his sword which Major Reivyn returned. Once the last member of the platoon Marched past the podium, the Platoon Commander’s perfectly timed command came through once more.

“Ready! Front!”

And with that, the platoon followed the rest of their company off of the parade grounds where they could be dismissed out of line of sight from the formal ceremony.

“First Squad! Stay behind,” Gulley immediately commanded after the Platoon Commander dismissed the platoon.

There were a few snickers directed toward one of the mercenaries who had attempted to bolt away as soon as the command had been issued, but Gulley’s aura of authority covered him and froze him in his tracks. Glances from other squads’ members were thrown his way, but nobody was surprised.

Gulley stood with his hands behind his back and waited for the rest of the platoon to disperse. His squad members formed a half-circle facing him and waited in silence with him. The mercenary follower of his in the second squad didn’t wait with them.

He had encouraged his followers to disperse among the various companies and platoons to truly integrate. He wouldn’t have leveraged his status if it hadn’t been an anomalous situation to begin with, instead choosing to command one of his new squad members.

As such, there was only one other person from his group in his squad: the girl who had been present when he had tracked down Teilon to initiate a rapport to guarantee a chance at recruitment. She wasn’t anything special in her performance, and she wasn’t his assistant squad leader. She kept to herself for the most part, but he was secretly glad to have her in his squad. The chances had been quite slim for her to be placed where she had been, and as far as he knew, there had been no favoritism or machinations at play in her placement.

Even though Gulley was glad to have her in his squad, he didn’t play favorites or pay her any special attention. He didn’t even nod to her in a familiar way when their eyes briefly met. He stoically waited in silence for the other mercenaries to clear some distance between them.

Once Gulley deemed there was enough space between his squad and the other mercenaries, he finally turned his gaze on the grumbling offender. The mercenary winced slightly under the steely gaze.

“Vuroiq…What. In. The. HELL. Was that?!” Gulley barked.

The man, Vuroiq, once more winced at the tone in Gulley’s voice. The man glanced around for support, but didn’t find any among the faces of any of the other mercenaries. Despite being all on his own, he eventually squared his shoulders and stood tall to answer his squad leader.

“Corporal, we were specifically promised not to have to participate in military parades,” he stated with vehemence. “If I had wanted to March around and look all pretty all the time, I would have enlisted in the Imperial Army. I thought we were here to fight, not,” he gestured back towards the parade grounds, “prance around to make the higher-ups feel good about themselves.”

Gulley felt the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he maintained his bearing and simply stared at Vuroiq for a few seconds. The man wilted a little under the stare, but he didn’t back down from his position. Gulley broke eye contact with the man and glanced at the other squad members.

“Does anyone else want to explain the obvious to him?” He asked.

The man standing next to Vuroiq smacked the man in the back of the head before opening his mouth.

“This wasn’t a military parade,” he growled. “Sure it looked like one, but it wasn’t. We had no audience other than our chain of command and a few of their friends who were interested.

“This was an internal graduation ceremony, and it was to make us feel good about ourselves. It was a significant experience, elevating us from mere Recruits to Mercenaries.”

The man looked at Gulley to see if he had gotten it right. Gulley nodded his head slightly.

“Mostly,” Gulley answered. “It was more than that, though. Let me ask you a question, Vuroiq. Have you ever seen or heard from Major Reivyn? Have you ever thought about the makeup of the other platoons or companies since you were assigned your position?”

“Ugh… no?” Vuroiq answered back hesitantly.

“‘No’ to which question?” Gulley pressed.

“No, Corporal, I had not seen or heard from Major Reivyn. I had not considered the other companies or platoons.”

“At this point, I’m not singling you out, Vuroiq. I imagine 99% of the mercenaries haven’t really considered these two things.

“Before this ceremony, Major Reivyn was just a faceless name placed at the top of an organizational chart. Until this ceremony, you were just a name placed in a slot in that same chart.

“Now, though, we’ve all seen and heard from the commander. We’ve all participated as an entire organization. You might not know where very single person is located in the machine, but you’ve seen them. You’ve Marched beside them.

“You’re no longer just a name in a slot. You’re no longer even just a member of our squad and platoon. We’re all finally, fully members of the Mercenary Battalion. It’s no longer just on paper. It’s a reality.

“It might have seemed like a simple parade to ‘make the higher-ups feel good about themselves’ to you, but it was so much more. Do you understand?”

“Umm, I think so,” Vuroiq answered, glancing down at the ground.

“That’s good enough,” Gulley nodded.

A short silence fell over the squad. Vuroiq looked back up at Gulley.

“Is that all, Corporal?” He asked.

Gulley arched an eyebrow at him.

“Are you out of your mind? That was just an explanation for why you were wrong about the parade. I haven’t addressed your gross breach of discipline, yet.” Gulley stifled a smirk to maintain his bearing.

“Form up!” He commanded

The members of the squad immediately rushed to form up, the assistant squad leader taking their position in the front.

“Vuroiq’s breach of discipline isn’t just a personal matter,” Gulley said. “It was a failing of First Squad. It was a failing of the First Squad Leader. As such, instead of enjoying liberty for the rest of the day, we’re going to train. We’re going to sweat.

“Right! Face!”

The squad sharply turned to the right.

“Forward! March! Double! Time!”

Gulley immediately set the squad to jogging across the field. Double Time was technically a jog, but it was also a run. It was technically double the pace of regular Marching, but it was also the command given when a unit ran for exercise. As such, Gulley jogged his way to the front position once more, and then he picked up the pace.

—

Reivyn held his salute as the last mercenary passed by in front of him. He held it for just a moment longer before lowering his hand. He wasn’t technically in a formation or anything himself and there were no lower ranked soldiers from the battalion present any longer, but he still maintained his professional bearing.

He turned about with a sharp movement, but he let himself give Kayzor a knowing look before he Marched forward to take a seat.

And with that, I’m “officially” done, he thought. So, I guess, dismissed?

Reivyn shrugged and chuckled to himself.

“What’re you giggling about to yourself?” Kayzor asked.

“Just silly military protocol,” Reivyn brushed it aside.

“So now that you’ve seen the troops, what’s the next step?” Kayzor asked again.

“Well, we have the information on their mock battles, and we know approximately their capabilities from their information from the Adventurer’s Guild and self reporting, but I think we should do one last combat evaluation. A real one.”

“Ok, and where are you going to have them engage in actual combat?”

“The Dungeon,” Reivyn answered. “We have an agreement with your family to allow us preferred access, and we haven’t really had a chance to take advantage of it yet. I also missed my appointment with Xudrid and Vyria, the two Cultivators I told you about, because of that stupid legal situation.”

“So, what? You’re going to personally go in with the teams? That would tie everyone you Party with to your instance of the Dungeon, and it would take forever.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of officers as evaluators. Not just ours, either. I would need to borrow some commissioned officers from the Imperial Army if you’re amenable to helping me out with that.”

“Yeah, one week of losing an instance shouldn’t be too bad, plus they don’t go in every week anyway. How were you thinking of organizing it?”

“By squad,” Reivyn said. “Each squad will be a Party, and they’ll have to advance in the Dungeon as in formation. This will also allow us to see who’s able to break their habits of Adventuring in a looser Party formation.”

“Alright, it’ll take a couple of days to get everything set up with the additional officers to act as invigilators, but it should be doable within the week.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Reivyn said, standing up. Kayzor followed suit. They were the last two at the podium, all the other officers and nobility having already left. “Now I think I’ll swing by to see Kefira and get ready for the engagement party in a few hours.”

“Woah, hold on there, buddy!” Kayzor said, grabbing Reivyn’s sleeve. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see your fiance before the party?”

Reivyn quirked an eyebrow before rolling his eyes.

“I think you’re confused,” he chuckled. “That only applies to seeing the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony. I don’t think Kefira even has a dress, yet.”

“You’d be surprised,” Kayzor chuckled in turn. “Especially with my mother and her older sisters. She at least has options already.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

The two stepped off the raised platform. Reivyn gave one last wave as he turned to head in a different direction than his future brother-in-law.

“See you tonight at the shindig.”

Reivyn turned and walked off. Kayzor was slightly taken aback for a moment before also walking off to start on finding spare officers for the final evaluation.

“Shindig?” He shook his head.