NOVEL NEXT Chapter 60
The Toscan Empire’s First Division was, once again, slogging through relentless training today.
Leo, just a simple sergeant in the Empire, had no choice but to roll with it.
“99! 100! Ugh!”
What he was doing now was simply thrusting a spear while maintaining the proper stance.
But after repeatedly jabbing with a spear over six meters long over a hundred times without a single mistake, his arms and legs felt like they were about to fall off.
All Leo could think about was how he’d like to have just some food and rest…
‘If they call it food, it’ll probably just be some rotten pickled herring again, right?’
Those high-and-mighty folks didn’t have to roll around like a dog as soldiers, whereas he, born of lowly origins, had to suffer for three years.
And the food they did serve? A mix of rotten pickled herring and brick-like hardtack.
He felt like he genuinely wanted to die.
Just when Leo was contemplating his sorrow, the platoon leader shouted loudly.
“Alright, training’s over! It’s time to eat, so form up in four lines!”
Since everyone had run themselves ragged during training, it was normal for all to practically go nuts at the mention of food.
But nobody was expecting to spread a spoon over the moldy parts of brick-like hardtack and eat half-rotten pickled herring.
Thus, even receiving orders to gather for a meal, the soldiers moved sluggishly.
The platoon leader was greatly annoyed that his orders weren’t being followed properly, but he didn’t raise his voice or vent his frustrations by hitting anyone; he was feeling just as diminished inside.
“Instead of the Pereira Guild, which has been serving us rotten food all this time, another guild has been chosen to supply our rations. And since the newly arrived quartermaster has been putting in a lot of effort, we should expect some decent food this time.”
With the promise of no more rotten food, the soldiers, including Leo, felt lighter on their feet.
It might just be the usual slop, but at least now they could expect something edible.
“To the front of the platoon!”
As they headed toward the mess hall, Leo’s squad members chattered excitedly.
“Sergeant Leo, we might finally eat something decent!”
“Our platoon leader wouldn’t lie, so we should get something good.”
If you randomly pick ten platoon leaders, eight of them are noble young lords, and two are self-made monsters adorned with multiple medals but holding rank as lowly soldiers.
They are somewhat distinguished folks who won’t lie to mere soldiers and are heavily steeped in the notions of hierarchy, good or bad.
‘So they probably don’t lie much.’
“I’m feeling a little excited. They have to serve something better than that rotten lot from Pereira, right?”
“Even so, it’s still army rations.”
“I heard the new quartermaster is only 21 years old. Apparently, his name is buzzing among the nobility.”
A 21-year-old major—a rank that, even Leo, a mere soldier, felt was ludicrous.
Unless they had done something extraordinary or were deeply connected to the Emperor, one wouldn’t reach that rank at such a young age.
‘Could he be the child of the Emperor’s concubine?’
“I heard from Sergeant Kaif from personnel that the way he handles things is no joke. If such a competent person has a hand in our meals, things should improve, right?”
Leo wished it was true.
Living in the military is miserable enough; if the food were also terrible, he’d really want to die.
“I hope so, but right now, all I need is for that rotten pickled herring and brick-like hardtack to not show up.”
“Agreed.”
As soon as Leo and the other soldiers entered the mess hall, they did not smell the usual rancid stench, but instead a delicious aroma.
The hall was packed with other soldiers, so they couldn’t see what was being served, but—
The sight of their mouths watering suggested there would indeed be something edible, no, something tasty, waiting for them.
“Sergeant Leo, we can really be excited now, can’t we?”
“It’s still too early. Have you ever had a decent meal until the last moment?”
Though he said that sarcastically, a smile was breaking out on Leo’s face.
The miserable excuse for a military life only had one joy: eating, and it seemed like that joy was about to be fulfilled.
After waiting about 20 minutes, it was finally Leo’s turn to be served.
As he took out his tray, an array of various foods was piled atop it.
Soft rye bread, a little meat in ribollita, pickled herring, and a bit of cheese.
It was a meal that couldn’t even be compared to the rotten pickled herring and hardtack he’d eaten until now.
No, even when the military supply merchants managed to serve decent food, it was nothing like this, sometimes served only on special occasions.
“Is it the division commander’s birthday or something today?”
The sergeant in charge of serving let out a sigh and replied.
“The new quartermaster really cracked down on the suppliers. They’ve wiped out all the crap they’ve been pulling, and they even had money left over after making this. Now hurry up and eat; other folks are waiting!”
Leo’s eyes misted over.
Military life was absolutely horrendous, but at least now he could eat well.
The thought of his hunger and sorrow flying away made him feel overwhelmed.
Still, being a sergeant, he didn’t actually cry…
But the private next to him was already soaking his bread in tears.
“Deus, thank you.”
“I could hardly get such a feast even when I was home.”
After being served, Leo sat down with his squad members and began to eat.
Normally, he would complain about the food being bad and force it into his mouth, but now, with a truly delicious meal before him, words failed him.
He wanted to focus on the taste.
Dipping the soft rye bread into the well-seasoned ribollita was a delight.
When he paired the pickled herring, which served as a protein supplement, with rye bread, the salty and nutty flavors blended wonderfully, and the bread disappeared in a flash.
Once he added the salty, nutty cheese, he felt a rush of revitalizing energy.
For three years, he thought that surviving this hellish military life was manageable thanks to this meal.
The soldiers left no drop of broth behind, adding a bit of exaggeration.
“If you’ve finished eating, let’s rise.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t mind if every day could be just like this. To think this is where happiness lies!”
Sergeant Leo thought he could endure tougher training if his meals were always this good.
Though, of course, the difficulty of training is always a separate matter from how delicious the food is.
Logically, he didn’t voice that thought.
“Alright, I’m buying drinks for everyone on this weekend’s outing!”
As they finished eating and were about to leave, there was a long line at the mess hall exit.
“What the heck is this line for?”
Curiously, he stood behind the line.
Seeing everyone else waiting made him feel there must be a reason for it.
By the exit, a soldier was shouting in a loud voice.
“Stand in line properly! Unless you want to die! One per person, so don’t think about taking more! If you try to grab two and get caught, you’re dead!”
Whatever they were handing out must be something incredibly delicious.
It couldn’t be anything else for them to be shouting about only one per person.
“Sergeant Leo, aren’t we going to be dragged onto the battlefield tomorrow? They wouldn’t hand out this much just because there’s a new quartermaster, right?”
“Shut your mouth. You’re being paranoid.”
That wasn’t an entirely unreasonable thought.
Although Sergeant Leo himself had never seen the battlefield, he often heard the noncoms joking about it.
‘When they suddenly start giving away food, usually it means you’re headed into battle the next day or the week after.’
They said it jokingly, but it was more true than a joke.
“Next! What are you doing next?!”
Sergeant Leo turned to see where the voice came from.
A staff sergeant’s rank insignia—technically the highest rank an ordinary soldier could reach.
“Ah, I’m sorry!”
“Take a donut! One per person, and the new quartermaster has made it so we’ll get them once a week! Eat it gratefully!”
Hearing that, Leo immediately put the donut in his mouth.
It was just a fried piece of dough covered in sugar…
But to buy one of these in the city would cost about the same as three meals at a cheap inn.
To be eating this precious treat in the military…
The military—those high-and-mighty folks were serving them such fine food…
It felt like his hard work was finally being recognized.
Perhaps that was why the sweet taste was swirling around in his mouth, and tears streamed down his face.
If Sergeant Leo was crying, the other soldiers were in the same boat, sobbing away.
“The new quartermaster truly acknowledges the blood, sweat, and tears of us lowly souls.”
For these disregarded soldiers, that donut struck a chord deep within their hearts.
And it naturally became one of the driving forces that kept the soldiers going through the week.
‘If I can just hold on for a week, I can have a donut!’
The morale of the First Division soared to the heavens.
Giving soldiers good food and sweet treats was the best way to lift their spirits, and trying it yielded results beyond expectations.
“The soldiers are participating in training too diligently; the junior officers are in a tough spot, this is something unimaginable in the Korean military.”
Still, as a mere soldier with a terrible memory of life in the military, seeing soldiers happy over just a donut and an improvement in rations filled him with joy.
While walking down the street, a soldier caught his gaze.
“Loyalty! Sergeant Leo!!!”
Other officers might not acknowledge the salutes of commoners, but I tend to accept them as long as it’s reasonable.
A soldier deserves at least a minimum of respect for being a soldier.
“Loyalty. So, is military life treating you well?”
“Yes, indeed! Thanks to the Medici quartermaster looking out for our meals, all of us in the squad are thankful every day.”
If even a mere soldier spoke like this, wouldn’t my reputation soar too high?
Wouldn’t the Emperor be a bit displeased by that?
“The one you should be thanking is not me, soldier. It’s His Majesty the Emperor who commands that you be treated well this way, and I’m just a simple tool in His hand.”
It was clear to everyone that I was exceeding the results requested by the Emperor.
Yet it’s always good to produce the maximum results whenever given the discretion.
Why? Because that leads to promotions and even more bonuses.
“A sergeant wouldn’t go around thanking the watering can after giving water to a plant. Just as that, I’m merely a tool held by the Emperor. All praise and effort belong to His Majesty. I’ve heard rumors among the soldiers that I’ve accomplished great things; I’d hate for that to spread.”
In a society like our empire, even becoming a mere officer means you wouldn’t dare look a soldier in the eye.
But, lacking such a mindset, I could have mutual respect and conversation with the soldiers.
This has become a major asset, even if I weren’t a soldier.
‘Everyone holds me in high regard.’
“I express gratitude for your dedication, loyalty, and duty, soldier. Loyalty!”
After this brief conversation, soldiers in the First Division spontaneously began shouting “Long live the Emperor!” from time to time.
The division commander would surely be quite pleased.