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Now reading: Chapter 130 - A Delicate Task from Second Life as a Soldier, a Fantasy novel by SoldierofAvalon.

After walking for a bit, all three of our squads separated. The vanguard went to report to the fort's captain, the supply squad made its way to the armory to drop off the armor they were carrying, and only my squad had nothing to do. We headed to the longhall to rest and sleep.

As soon as the other squads left, my squad eased up instead of being bothered by what they had seen. Barry’s usual smile returned, and he and Varric started joking around, criticizing the march to Fort Dunvale.

But by now, I knew this was their way of operating, and I was aware that my morals and theirs were not the sa.

“Sergeant, you alright?” asked Peter, probably sensing my mood, as he joined at the rear of our squad.

“I think so…” I replied, then turned to look at him, only to see his face almost mirror my own, equally bothered by what we saw.

“What about you?” I asked.

He sighed. “I think I am fine too.”

“Have you seen sothing like this before?” I asked.

“Beheading once or twice. Even in cities, it is a common form of punishnt for traitors, but I had not expected torture to be the first thing I would see upon entering the fort,” he replied.

I nodded. While Peter had been in the army longer than , torture was not sothing you regularly encountered in cities.

For , it was far more disturbing.

In both my lives, I had never seen such treatnt inflicted on another human. I had lived a sheltered life. Even after fighting and killing beasts, sothing that had slowly desensitized to blood and gore, this felt entirely different.

We did not let beasts suffer.

And I had rarely seen anyone enjoy killing them.

But what I had just seen…

That was different.

They were enjoying it.

Suddenly, I realized where I had seen those expressions before.

Their smiles…They were the sa as the ones Varric and Garran had worn during the Beast Tide.

Maybe I was right.

My squad… was built to kill.

As we arrived at our given location, I looked at Peter and then at the rest of my squad.

“I would suggest keeping so distance from them for now,” I said to Peter.

I knew the state we were in would only make things worse if we stayed close to Barry and Varric.

I followed my own advice.

After giving instructions to the rest of the squad, I walked off in a random direction, hoping to find a training yard to clear my mind and get rid of the thoughts weighing down.

After a long ti, I was once again questioning my decision to join the army. While I had made peace with losing people and accepted it as part of life, Walter’s words were still a good guiding principle, reminding that I had the talent and empathy required to lead a squad in the army.

But this ti, I was questioning what would happen to by the ti I left the army. Would I even rember who I was? Would any empathy remain? Or would I beco soone who cared only about completing missions?

After walking for nearly half an hour, before I could find a training yard. A voice called out behind .

“Good thing I found you.”

I turned.

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Sergeant Cole.

"I was going to look for you,” he said, glancing ahead.

Only then did I realize where I had wandered.

The hill.

The command building of Fort Dunvale stood just ahead.

“Is the torture bothering you?” Sergeant Cole continued.

“It’s not just the torture, but the complete fort’s atmosphere. But most of all, why is no one stopping it?” I asked.

“Co with ,” said Sergeant Cole, making his way toward the hill.

We walked up the narrow path toward the hill.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Just before reaching the command building, Sergeant Cole stopped.

He pointed north.

“You see there?" he said. Following the direction he was pointing, I saw Fort Ironmaw’s walls, and like Fort Dunvale, it also had heads on top of pikes, clearly human heads.

“I brought you here to show you the way they treat our soldiers. As for that torture, a few days ago Fort Ironmaw hit almost all patrol squads from our fort, wiping out almost all of them and capturing the remaining,” he said.

“Was the barbarian we saw part of that attack team?” I asked. I was not sure what Sergeant Cole was trying to get at. If all patrol squads were wiped out or captured, how did they capture a barbarian?

“No, he was captured before that,” he replied, making frown.

“But the captain has allowed soldiers to interrogate him to see if we could get information that might help us in retrieving our soldiers, and know this—our soldiers will be treated worse than that,” he said.

I just sighed. These words might have made sense to a new private or might have been enough for them. But I knew that once a soldier is captured, they are considered dead here.

The sergeant was basically implying that, under the cover of information gathering, the captain is allowing torture because they would do the sa. But for , it only raised new questions. Whatever the sergeant had said about barbarians did not surprise . After all, this was what I had read and heard about them. But seeing our soldiers behaving like this was sothing I had not expected.

“Then what makes us different from barbarians?” I asked, accusation leaking into my voice.

But Sergeant Cole did not get affected by my tone.

“Less than we like to think,” he replied simply. “I was going to have this conversation with you before you left the fort, but since we’re already here…”

He glanced at .

“Let’s talk properly.”

“I think there is a reason you were assigned this mission. The reason is to make you aware of the brutality of war and the extres people can go to.”

“You treat your squad with compassion, knowing full well they are criminals, and I have seen they function far better than any other death squad, so I cannot say your way of leading them is wrong. But I think this scares the captain and Lieutenant Ceciro, that you might show the sa compassion to your enemies.”

Listening to this, I got defensive, thinking my loyalty was being questioned. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. I am loyal to the Royal Army. You know I would defend my squad and the people under . Just yesterday, because of my decision, more than 15 barbarians died. But unnecessary torture and violence hardly solve problems,” I said.

“No one is doubting your loyalty, Edward,” Sergeant Cole said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “What I was getting at is that sotis, as leaders, we have to make decisions we do not fully support. Let ask you this—let’s say you captured barbarians from yesterday’s raid, but your squad had lost a few soldiers. Would you allow the rest of your squad to execute the captured barbarians?” Sergeant Cole asked.

“No,” I said quietly, understanding what the sergeant was getting at, but I still completed my answer. “According to army rules, we are to bring captured enemies to the fort or royal barracks for questioning.”

“Now what would be the effect of this on your squad?” he asked.

And I knew what the impact would be.

For such a decision, almost everyone would be angry. If soone like Kael had died, it would have been a huge blow to the morale of my squad. And after that, if I had allowed those sa people to live, there was a good chance Barry and Varric would try to kill .

“I think you understand now. In a death squad, reactions might be extre, but normal soldiers are also affected when their brother dies, and if their leader keeps taking decisions that are logical but not sothing they agree with emotionally, it harms the morale of the squad more than you would imagine.”

“Leading a squad or company is a delicate task, Edward. Sotis you will need to make decisions that will allow your squad to take out their frustration, but sotis you will have to make decisions they will not agree with. The key is to keep finding a balance between both,” he said.

I nodded, understanding so of what Sergeant Cole was getting at. I had already allowed the Tier-2 mbers of my squad to slaughter beasts to control their bloodlust, but I was still unsure if I would be able to make the right decision when the affected party was human.

“And why do you fight, Sergeant?” I asked. The Kingdom of Avalon had multiple reasons to fight. The biggest was that Frosthallow was made of war-preferring tribes, and to protect the resources available in the north, from leather beasts to the tals in these mountains. But I wanted to know why a soldier like Sergeant Cole fought.

“I fight because I enjoy it,” he said with a smile, catching completely off guard. “You don’t always need big reasons to fight. This world does not revolve around you. If you will not fight, soone else will. You intelligence types worry too much. Just enjoy what you like to do.”

Then, doubling down, he increased my surprise.

“If you really want to focus on sothing, focus on your next mission. Tomorrow, my squad and the Tier-2 of your squad are going hunting,” he said, and turned around, making his way down the hill.

I stood there for a second, surprised by the news Sergeant Cole had dropped on , then followed him to get details of the mission and find out why I suddenly had a mission I had not been inford about.

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