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Chapter 152: Frontier Village

The rest of the trip passed without any issues. Most privates developed a sense of camaraderie over time. My squad members were still avoided, but this was something they were used to. In contrast to the cold shoulders my squad received, the response toward me was the complete opposite.

My reputation after the fight against the Super Pack wolves had soared. Soldiers were respectful toward me, and so were the sergeants. The fact that we attacked or were attacked almost every other day helped me cement my position even further. Only two people had problems with me, Rowan and Colin.

It looked like every time a fellow sergeant praised me or followed my orders without question outside combat, Colin’s jealousy increased. But Colin and Rowan’s hostile looks stopped bothering me after the fifth day of the trip.

On the 20th day, one hour before reaching the Frontier Village, I stopped the caravan and addressed everyone.

“We will reach the Northern Frontier Village in one hour. Sergeant Rowan will be responsible for construction efforts. To support the construction effort, one additional squad will be assigned to Sergeant Rowan. That squad is Sergeant Colin’s squad.” Assigning Colin to work closely with Rowan was not something I wanted, but construction-related decisions belonged to Rowan. All I could do was make it clear that I did not approve. Unfortunately, my obvious dislike of the arrangement only seemed to make Rowan more inclined to keep Colin close.

“Sergeant Victor and my squad will patrol close to the construction team.” This was a standard setup. Squads supporting or directly involved in construction efforts were usually blindsided by threats from outside, so their protection became the responsibility of other squads. While I had no say over Colin’s placement, I could at least keep Aaron’s and Caleb’s squads away from Rowan. “Sergeant Aaron’s and Sergeant Caleb’s squads will be responsible for patrolling inside and outside the village.”

I took a pause for a second, letting my words settle in.

“I have one request. From the reports, tensions between the natives and villagers are already high. Our presence will only increase tension, so in an effort to control some of those rising tensions, I would request that you not call the natives barbarians or half-barbarians. I have recently learned that the term creates more resentment than cooperation.” As soon as those words left my mouth, heavy tension spread through the ranks. Some privates frowned, while some openly scoffed. Just from that reaction, I knew I had miscalculated. All the progress I had made over the last twenty days had been undone.

“And what are we supposed to call them?” Rowan said in a challenging tone.

“We can call them by their names. I hope when you talk about us or the citizens of Avalon, you do not refer to them as humans,” I said with a smile. “But if you really need a term to refer to them with, you can call them natives. And if it is just among soldiers, you can call them whatever you want. Just in front of them, I want us to be a bit conscious. Otherwise, I do not care what you call them.”

Sensing the soldiers’ resistance when I asked them to show more respect toward the village natives, I changed my stance halfway through the speech. I did not even mention the Draknir part of my speech, which did help ease the expressions of some soldiers. But I still had a feeling my initial statement had put some of the soldiers on edge.

After dismissing the meeting, we continued toward the frontier village, and I pushed those thoughts from my mind. Whether the soldiers liked it or not, lowering the tension in the village mattered more than their pride.

My bigger concern was the rumors of sightings of barbarians from Frosthallow, and if there was even a one percent chance those rumors were true, such a person would possess a level of combat strength we could not handle. My hope was to make it difficult for people in the village to work with those individuals.

If they wanted to remain hidden, they would avoid attacking us directly. Wiping out sixty to sixty-five soldiers would directly indicate the presence of someone at Tier 4, leading to increased security and making their escape almost impossible.

After a few seconds of continuing the journey, Peter approached me. Before he could say anything, I spoke up.

“I fucked up?”

“Not yet,” Peter shook his head. “but your words did create doubt in the soldiers’ minds. Your next words showing sympathy to the Draknirs could lead to a devastating blow to your authority.”

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I nodded.

That was what I thought.

“Sergeant,” Peter said with a serious expression, “the change in some of the soldiers’ expressions was too extreme for it to be the result of your first mistake.”

Then, lowering his voice so only I could hear, he said, “I even sensed mana around some of the soldiers move as soon as you said not to call the natives barbarians. Such an extreme reaction would only make sense if they were already expecting you to say that. as if your soft stance toward half-barbarians was already passed around to the soldiers in a negative way.”

Now that I thought about it, Peter was right. The sudden frowns I saw as soon as they heard my words were too much for soldiers who were respectful toward me until today. Thinking about it for a second, I said to Peter,

“What if someone already knew that I usually avoid judging people before understanding the situation?” I said, making Peter raise an eyebrow. “Colin knew about my attitude toward criminals in our previous squad. There were multiple times when I healed Kael and the others even though Sergeant Fenward was not happy with it. He could easily predict that I would not treat half-barbarians differently just because I was expected to.”

Peter nodded. “He could have just fed negative rumors, telling them you are good at leading against beasts but are not fit to lead against humans, planting doubts in the soldiers. So as soon as you said those words, the doubts became certainty. Good thing you loosened your stance at the end, or it could have been far worse than this.”

Fuck, I cursed in my head. I was hating the politics involved in dealing with nobles and their tantrums, and worst of all, fucking Colin being a pain in my ass.

Lost in those thoughts, I barely noticed when we finally reached the village.

Surprisingly, the village was walled. They were nowhere near the standard of a fort’s stone walls, but they were far better than the wooden walls I had seen around my town. Made out of clay and stone, they stood only seven feet tall and were not designed to be manned. However, near the gate, there were small tower-like platforms where guards could stand.

Most villages did not even have walls, and even these walls had not been built by the Kingdom of Avalon. The kingdom had no interest in protecting a small village like this, one that held no strategic importance beyond being on the route to Fort Dunvale. If Frosthallow attacked, a small army could erase this village easily, or simply go around it if the enemy was looking for a quick raid.

The only reason I could think these walls existed was that at some point, or even now, there were people who considered this place home, and they would rather die than take refuge somewhere else.

At the village gate, the village head greeted us. He was a balding man with thinning grey hair, and he walked with a limp. For a few minutes, I observed his face. The smile never left it.

“Welcome! Welcome! Brave soldiers of the Royal Army! It is an honor for my family and village to greet and host the heroes of our kingdom,” the village head said with a smile as he hobbled toward us and almost bowed when he stopped in front of me and Rowan.

Just listening to his words made me uncomfortable, while Rowan stepped forward without missing a beat.

“Thank you, Village Head Garron Hales. I am Sergeant Rowan Black. I will be in charge of the construction efforts in the village to prepare it as a supply hub for the Avalon army. To my right is Sergeant Edward of Oxspell, who will be protecting us during these construction efforts.”

I stepped forward and shook hands with the village head.

“Great! Great! You both are doing such important jobs at such a young age. Come, you all should be tired from such a long journey. I have prepared the central area of the village for all our heroes. The whole village is accessible from there,” he said, taking us inside the village.

As we walked around the village, we got a lot of curious looks from the villagers and some scared looks as well. This was a slightly larger village with a population of approximately 1000 people, with around 300–350 households.

The majority of those were clay houses built out of similar material as the walls, but I could also see some well-built permanent houses made mostly of stone and marble.

From the village head’s attitude so far, I was pleased. He appeared to be polite and had taken our needs into consideration.

“Sergeants Rowan and Edward, these are the houses I have assigned to you. These 14 houses could easily provide accommodation to all your soldiers. My family’s house is to the northwest of the village, you should have seen it, west of the gate we entered from,” he said, pointing at the two sets of seven row houses, a great location for the army. Close quarters would allow us to maintain proper communication.

It was not like the village had barracks to host us in, so I was happy to even get a roof over our heads. I was half expecting to camp somewhere in the village.

After saying a few more words, the village head departed, and we assigned four houses to the construction team and ten to the soldiers. These houses would be used only temporarily. We would empty most of them once construction started. A few squads and the construction team would camp near the construction area.

Once we were done unloading and washing up a little, Peter and I walked out to survey the area. Looking at the surroundings, my expression darkened.

“Please tell me our houses are not the same as theirs,” I said to Peter.

Peter just shook his head.

“Then at least tell me the people staring at us aren’t natives,” I said, lowering my voice.

“I wish I could,” Peter replied.

I sighed heavily. As soon as we stepped outside the houses assigned to us, we were greeted by angry looks from the natives.

Judging by the style of the houses, it was clear the village head had placed us as close to the natives as possible. If I was not wrong, he may have even emptied out some of their homes for us.

Comments 2

  1. Offline
    + 00 -
    Holy Rowan slurps up praise like it's heavenly elixir
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    1. Offline
      + 10 -
      Dumbass Rowan, you mean?
      Read more