Survival Records of 3650 days in the Otherworld

Everyone became shocked. The number seemed to be too much.

“But they are old soldiers. Mostly 6 to 7 years old.”

“Oh.”

It seemed like the goblins were sending them those who would provide the least amount of help before they died.

“Whoa. They do that?”

“That’s terrifying.”

It was not something that humans would do, but for the goblins, it was a rational choice.

“They are doing that so that they can die gloriously in battle. Everyone was up for it I heard.”

That was very different between the races.

War waged on and casualties kept racking up on both sides.

“ARGH!”

“Billy!”

A soldier was struck from the streak of light and was thrown back. A foul stench of flesh being burned filled the area. The iron plate on his chest became reddened from heat but another soldier named Braim pulled it out.

“Argh!”

The skin was pulled out with it as it was stuck on the plate and Billy screamed in pain. Braim, however, took off every piece of armor on Billy. Blood began to drip from the wound.

“Hold on!”

Braim then took out a small bottle and poured it over the wound. The wound then quickly began to heal and recover. In just a minute, the wound was now back to its bushy, hairy chest.

Outside of the line, the battlefield was also filled with screaming coming from the alien species.

“Billy! Can you move?”

“Yeah… I suppose.”

“Let’s fall back for now.”

The potion healed the wound, but the person experienced great fatigue.

“Hey! They’re falling back!”

“Take our wounded back to the camp!”

“Medic!”

With enemies falling back, soldiers began to quickly tend to their wounded.

“Hey! You! You Braim from Loffal Town?”

Braim turned as he stood up and saw a middle-aged man coming up to him.

‘That man… Guard commander Hansel?’

“You know me, right?”

“Yes, sir. My father used to work with you in his mercenary days.”

“Good. You remember then.”

Hansel seemed to be satisfied. There was no way Braim would not remember him as Hansel used to help his father’s pub that he opened after retiring from mercenary work.

“Are you trained in combat?”

“Huh? O-of course, sir. Yes I am.”

“Good. Then you take care of these ten there.”

Hansel glanced toward at young soldiers who seemed to be in fear.

‘Ugh.’

Braim sighed, but knew what happened here. These young soldiers were new recruits who were sent to the field without being properly trained.

“You want to babysit them?”

Hansel then smiled.

“Yes, but we are at war. These kids need to do their part. You are their temporary instructor. Teach them how to fight. Can you do it?”

“Ugh.”

“Fall back for now, and teach them some basics.”

“Yes, sir.”

Braim then waved at the kids. One of the kids then helped Billy stand up. Braim smiled and said, “You, what’s your name?”

“My name’s Hecks.”

“I’m Bellay.”

“I’m Thomas.”

Every kid said their name. They seemed to be similar in age.

“How old are you all?”

“Fourteen.”

“Nine!… I mean Twelve!”

The smallest boy seemed to have lied about his true age.

Braim sighed. The area was close from Berhen Town where the town kids had volunteered to fight to protect their village, even before they became fearstruck from the real battle.

End of Chapter