The Wandering Samurai and his Beloved General (BL)

The silly tournament was just men fooling around, of course, so Haruki let them have their fun. By the time the winner was decided, whether or not he joined that squad had become irrelevant.

Amidst the excitement, Haruki's focus was elsewhere. He was intent on gathering every scrap of intel he could about his idol. The moment he first heard the name, his eyes curved into crescents of pure joy, practically disappearing with his smile. His new friends exchanged baffled looks at the sight. They should have naturally started teasing him, but instead, they found themselves cheering him on.

Perhaps it was because they had never seen the General's face show anything but calm composure. Deep down, they all collectively wished for someone—anyone—to finally disturb that unshakable serenity.

General Lanling Cheng.

He was the youngest of the four generals the Silver Dragons took pride in. His known age was close to thirty, and he had been in service since he was just eleven years old. He began his journey as one of the caretakers of a rider's dragon, tending to the beasts with diligence.

But fate intervened when the encampment he was assigned to came under siege. During the chaos, the young caretaker picked up a sword and fought. As one of the few survivors of that attack, he earned his first merit by saving the rider's dragon.

From that moment, his achievements snowballed. By his late twenties, he had earned the rank of general—a title few could claim at such a young age. For the past two years, he had led the front skirmishes between the Silver Dragons and the Black Pythons, cementing his reputation as a brilliant leader and warrior.

The fight Haruki had witnessed in the open field, deep within a dense forest, was General Lanling ambushing the enemy's reinforcements, effectively cutting off one of their lifelines.

It was common knowledge that the next battle would determine whether the Black Pythons could remain in Silver Dragon territory.

Haruki also learned how difficult it was to even stand a chance beside such a leader. The winner of the arm-wrestling tournament, General Lanling's right-hand man, was a man of monstrous strength.

Haruki sighed deeply, pinching at his own thin muscles. He feared they would snap under the pressure if he so much as dared to challenge the man.

Verdan, a half-elf who had chosen to wield a sword and shield instead of the bow his race was known for, patted Haruki's shoulder in comfort. "Don't think in terms of pure strength. Our general cares more about skills than anything."

"Skills, huh. Does luck count?" Haruki genuinely asked, tilting his head. He at least had confidence with his luck since he depended on it all these years.

Verdan raised an eyebrow, pausing to think it over. Out of all the soldiers, he was the one who had truly connected with Haruki, recognizing that his idolism towards their general was truly genuine not something fleeting.

After a moment, he looked Haruki squarely in the eye. "I think if you luckily saved him from an attack, you'd have a chance."

Haruki smiled wryly. "That's impossible! He's way faster than me."

Verdan nodded, matter-of-fact. "Then you'll just have to be patient and start training. Train while the recruitment period hasn't started yet, and you'll make a deeper impression on the day of selection."

In the end, after an hour of pondering, they came back to the same conclusion.

Haruki finally gave up, letting Verdan go back to his tent to sleep while he found a tree to perch on. Despite becoming friends with the soldiers in such a short time, as an outsider, he was naturally not given a place to sleep.

Over the next four to five days, Haruki integrated himself into the soldiers' daily routines. He helped sharpen swords, joined their training sessions, and gradually earned a bedroll and three tentmates. In an army where extra help was always welcome, Haruki found no resistance to his presence. Able-bodied contributors were always in demand, and his willingness to pitch in ensured he wasn't turned away.

The past few days had been the busiest of his three years in this world, yet despite the constant work, Haruki's motivation never wavered. The only disappointment was the absence of General Lanling—he hadn't seen even a glimpse of him since their last interaction. If Haruki didn't know better, he might have assumed the General wasn't even in the encampment. After all, the soldiers he had befriended were directly under Lanling's command.

Actually, Haruki did try to find him, but Verdan stopped him just before he could wander into the inner circle of the encampment, saving him from getting himself killed.

"Don't be stupid! Only death awaits anyone who trespasses the inner circle! You won't even get a glimpse of the General before your head rolls!" Verdan hammered these words into Haruki's head, and finally, his foolish thoughts disappeared.

"Verver, I am so deprived~ I want to see my general~!" Haruki collapsed onto his bedroll and whined. It was just his luck to be assigned to the same tent as Verdan.

"Who are you calling Verver?!" Verdan exploded.

Their other two roommates laughed at the antics. The tallest and oldest among them was a full-blooded elf, one of the best archers in the army, wielding one of the tallest longbows. "Verver's not bad. Better than Dandan."

Verdan looked at him in shock, betrayed. "And who the hell is Dandan?!"

The other human in the tent was laughing so hard he was almost in tears, pounding the ground and screaming for mercy from his roommates. "Stop, stop—I can't! Verver is so perfect—pffft!" He couldn't stop laughing, earning multiple eye rolls from Verdan.

"This tent is filled with pigs! I'm leaving!" Verdan stormed off, but before they could say anything, he returned a few seconds later, eyes sparkling. He grabbed Haruki by the shoulders, shaking him violently. "Hey, hey! Wake up! The General is at the training grounds!"

The word "General" filled Haruki with renewed vigor. He swiftly broke free from Verdan's clutches and almost flew out of the tent, leaving his friends stunned.

"Did he... just fly?"

His actions had been too quick for them to properly scrutinize, but they all agreed that his feet only touched the ground once he was outside, leaving them marveling at his speed for the entire night.