Alright, I can’t do it. I said I would release the whole volume as a whole and I give up.
Now enjoy the chapter.
Translated by Tianic, edited by Grammarly
Note 0: Click here for the series page and the table of contents.
Note 1: An editable text of this chapter is provided in case of eye cancer.
Note 2: Comments and likes are appreciated.
No one knew when the Protoss and the Asmodian races came into being, nor did anyone knew when humans and aliens were born. However, the certain thing was: since the Protoss and Asmodian were born, then came other lives. The continent called Peace divided into two opposing allies. As to reflect most directly on the conflicts between the two, war has never seized to occur.
Aside from minor conflicts within them, there was the grand spectacle that will happen every twenty years where millions were engaged. It was the Protoss/Asmodian war.
Such war initiated for the excuse of righteous reasons. Blood boiled, justice and honor have made countless youngsters who just grew up to throw their immature arms and legs into the army. They bore glorious dreams and put away their sentimental love. Although they were still too young to be called men, though their smiles were shy, they will proceed without hesitation to the draft station and vowed to kill the enemies.
The enlisting age, by law, was 20, age 17 for volunteers. This limit will vary for alien races.
As a matter of fact, the empires did not need to take pains to talk the young into joining the army, because, after years of influence from the priests of the Dark Temple, millions of young men have made army career as their primary dream. They worshipped the heroes who came off the battlefield and were obsessed by the stories of great sacrifice.
Just imagine how their own stories will become if they singlehandedly defeat the enemies. Such a fantasy will take their breath away.
Surely as people of the Asmodian, the Dark King will grant his people with blessing as well.
(Asmodian Alliance, Brooks Empire. Outside a tiny town)
“Ah… ahhhhhhh…” A gold-haired, blue-eyed boy yelled toward the sky, “It’s about the place! I’ll become a great soldier!”
“Hush, it’s morning! You wanna wake up the whole village?” Another grey-haired boy kicked the former’s butt, “And it’s not a petty soldier, it’s the Champion Legion! We have to become an honored champion.”
“How rude.” The boy who was kicked in the ass rubbed his back, “But it’s gonna be hard to be enlisted into the Champion Legion, right? I heard those who are serving there are above the best.”
“Sure they are! Campion Legion is a league of great achievement. They’ve successfully defeated the Protoss Alliance for countless times. It’s one of our points of pride! Besides, if we are qualified to enroll, we’ll be allowed to use our chosen weapon.” The grey-haired raised his head proudly, “and we got to name ourselves with the coolest nickname.”
“Nickname? I don’t recall I have one.” The gold-haired boy scratched his head and distressed, he said, “My father used to yell at me ‘swine’ though.”
“If you take that your nickname, I swear I’ll slaughter you now. You debasement of the whole village!” The grey hair daunted with his fist, “If you come home with a chest full of medals, your farmer father wouldn’t dare to call you swine, would he? Think about it!”
“I… okay, I won’t use that.” The gold hair tapped his pal’s shoulder, “What’s your name then?”
“Scarlet Heaven!” The grey opened his burning eyes and tightened his shoulder pack, “I’ll use those evil Protoss’ blood and paint their Heaven Island scarlet!”
“What a great dream. Hahahaha, given that blade of yours?” The gold hair laughed, “Watch me. After the war, I must have earned enough bounty by killing enemies. I’ll pack my fat bag and glaring honor and travel around all countries. I shall become a free ranger that drifts and be free!”
“I can beat you up without a blade!”
Thus came the two boys’ thrills on the grand business route. Beneath the misty morning air, their playful figures faded away.
That day, two more names were added to the draft register. One with the name ‘Scarlet Heaven’, the other, ‘Ranger’. It was said that the gold-haired boy who named ‘Ranger’ insisted on adding the words ‘Free and Easy and Wanderer’ in the front. However, his demand was not anywhere near satisfied except for the registrar’s supercilious look.
The two rookies: Scarlet Heaven and Ranger, arrived at the boot camp nervously.
Any legacy legions like the Champion Legion occupied a particular space in the boy’s’ dreams. Most of the rookies inhaled confidently and swore to become a champion at the draft station. Their final goal was the silver dog tag that represented a member of the Champion Legion.
“Attaboy!” The kind-looking registrar would usually reply like this, “We need all the ambitious men. Go for it, defeat your opponents in the camp. The Champion Legion does not want losers.”
Thus, the camp was swamped with yellings and shoutings.
Scarlet Heaven and Ranger entered the gate amongst a big pile of rookies. On the training ground, thirtyish of them have gathered in a ‘way too bent that should be abandoned’ sequence. They were waiting for their sergeant.
“Be cool.” Scarlet Heaven whispered at Ranger, “The Champion Legion doesn’t want loser.”
The rookies gazed as an officer-like armored man with two of his lieutenants strode over. The three of them were looking tough. Six sharp legs moving made the ground dust swirl.
All rookies can’t see the sergeant’s face since he wore a helmet; however, they still stared attentively at the boss man’s every move with great endeavor.
But then, as the sergeant reached the end of the row, he made a chilly humph sound. Almost immediately, all rookies who were expecting someone friendly and kind went silly-eyed, because everyone knew this was not a good sign.
The sergeant’s 2 minions aroused at the ‘humph’ sound. They went to the head and the end of the row respectively then started grabbing and pushing the freshmen like 2 orgasmolepsy cows. Thus the overbending row finally stopped curving.
“Remove what’s in your hands,” One of the army dogs barked, “and what’s on your outfits!”
Even the pain from the dogs’ excessively tough treatments has not eased, the rookies did as they were told.
The sergeant then began approaching the row, slowly, step by step with both hands on his hips. He walked along the row and glared each rookie’s eyes. Something was surging in the sergeant’s tiny, triangular eyes hiding behind his facemask, which the rookies had utterly no idea of, and no one dared to ask. Whenever that pair of eyes connected with one of the rookies’ eyes, the unlucky bastard being stared would either look up or down instead of staring back.
After the commander went through the total of 30-ish rookies, he repositioned to the middle front of the row then whispered a thing or two to one of his minions. The latter then started yelling to form the rookies into 2 short rows. As for the other minion, he passed between the rows dragging ears, pinching arms.
Scarlet Heaven refrained his eager to punch back after being dragged on his ears, but the hot-headed Ranger just cannot stand by being pinched on the arms. Thus, Ranger’s body dodged a few inches as he was about to contact the minion’s hand. Almost instantly, a fist bumped his cheek. Therefore, Ranger went back to his position.
The sergeant walked over slowly. He grabbed Ranger’s jaw with his hand in his coarse glove. Then a few difficult question words came behind the sergeant’s mask, “What’s the look on your face?”
Scarlet Heaven breathed a bit faster at the sergeant’s inquiry because he was afraid that Ranger might answer his superior with the word ‘cool’ he told him earlier.
“This’s my usual look.” Ranger answered cooly, “Anything wrong, sir?”
The hand on Ranger’s jaw immediately retracted, then it reappeared on Ranger’s underbelly in the form of a punch. Ranger bent over in misery and started making painful ‘ho-hho’ sounds.
“You never doubt my question. Yes or no, is all I want to hear.” The sergeant stood still and told the rows, “If you disobey, he is the example!”
The body of the ‘example’ was still trembling beside his drill sergeant like a cooked shrimp. All the rest of the rookies threw a convicted look at the boss man and glimpsed a contempt look at the ‘example’.
Ranger’s cheek went even redder due to the disapproval and shame.
“This is a bootcamp. Once you go in this door, you’ve become a soldier!” The sergeant roared, “I don’t care why you’re here. A soldier’s gotta do what a soldier gotta do! And you never question a commander’s order! I’ll crack his nuts if anyone questions my orders again! Do you get me?”
“Yes!” To preserve the integrity of certain body parts, the rookies answered altogether. Thus 30 voices came together and made quite a loud noise.
“SLAP” There came one more crisp sound. One more rookie who stood face to the sergeant was slapped and became the 2nd ‘example’.
“Whenever you answer yes or no,” The sergeant’s voice sounded again, “start and end it with ‘sir’”!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” The rookies roared together again. Among which, 2 ‘examples’ were the loudest of all.
“Pooh!” The sergeant lifted his mask to spit on the dirt. He glimpsed all the rookies with the eyes as if he was looking at pigs, “A group of cunts. Give me 10 laps on the training ground!”
Thus and thus, the rookies started their 6-month boot camp life.
All of the new recruits have received neat uniforms and were put with all other rookies to form a team of a hundred men under the coach of a few drill sergeants.
The sergeants, they seemed to never do anything but yelling, scolding, slashing. Their whips stayed upwards for eternity to land on some poor bastard’s ass at any time.
During such days, more rookie ‘examples’ showed. There was an infinite power from the ‘examples’ as well as their number. The sergeants had unique skills for each part of his body: the whips were prepared for human soldiers, foot tips to kick the werewolves, fists for mountain dwarfs, elbow under the metal armor was only saved for barbarian soldiers.
In later days, Ranger came to understand that though he was not overselling by being made the first ‘example’ on the first day because almost all the other rookies were punished physically with all kinds of treatments on that day. If the rookies did badly, the sergeants would punch them; did well, got punched even harder; did nothing, well, may you rest in peace.
Besides physical abuse, the sergeants’ languages were all the more so exquisite. If the rookies were not here to enlist, they would never know the charm of the language they thought they knew so well.
Generally, a sergeant will greet a rookie himself with common and vulgar words. If the rookie did something wrong, the greeting will spread onto the rookie’s families. If the rookie pissed the sergeant somehow, the verbal abuse would spread to all the rookie’s relatives, all who knew him as well as all the ones the rookie knew. The blow range was so broad and the striking power was so intense that no psychic spells on this land could compete.
Scarlet Heaven and Ranger came from the same village, a place specialized in producing two most peculiar specialties within the Asmodian Alliance: a kind of grape to produce top-class wine, and aggressive bitches. The village’s historical standing to have well-known bitches were even longer than the grapes. However, both Scarlet Ranger and Ranger considered that all the bitches put together in the village, no, in the town, cannot reach the half of their sergeant.
Try to imagine, there was a reason for the heroes who returned their hometown with glory to win the respect of every bitch in town with only his tongue instead of his military merits.
Each of the sergeant’s earth-shaking word from simple day-to-day words to subtle alteration of the tones has so stupefied, abashed every rookie that they wished they would just dig a hole and bury them deep. And of course, not all rookies were the obedient ones. A brave rookie from Ranger’s team ended up in a coma on a stinky shaman physician’s bed for an entire day.
The only free time for the rookies was before and after the daily prayer sessions when they could loosen up and talk to each other about their dreams. In this dreary, dull camp of rudeness, dream was the only pure thing that was able to comfort the freshmen. All of the rookies survived clinging to such a thing.
There were potential deserters. However, to think what a big price to pay being cracked in the nuts by a sergeant, the running-away thought just vanished.
Even under such a circumstance, SH and Ranger did not give up their dream to become a champion. After six months, SH’s saber and lance skills have improved substantially. Even his drill sergeant could barely gain any advantage from him in a one-on-one battle. As for Ranger, he did quite well in swinging a single-handed sword. And Ranger did even better with his extended war bow. The two’s excellent performance has so impressed their sergeant that they were often taken to the other teams to battle other teams’ finest. SH and Ranger’s good work has earned their sergeant a great deal of day-offs and money; however, they were not treated any better due to the good performance.
Half a year have passed quickly. SH and Flame have grown up a little. The camp hardship has washed away the naive and immature looks on their faces. The reason was simple: the Champion Legion did not want losers. Immaturity was another way of saying loser in the army camp.
Today’s afternoon saw some stranger senior officers with different uniforms wandering in the training ground. They did not talk much, they’d rather just watch the on-going training silently. All of them crossed their hands. Though their eyes were looking sharp, they had the calmest faces.
The sergeants acted even more strict. All of them called their finest rookie trainees. As whips slashed, the scene was like a circus with a bunch of tamers trying to leash the rookies and ask for money.
Judging from the silver pieces of various shapes on the newcomers’ left chest, they were from the Champion Legion. The Champion Legion’s commanders were looking for candidates to fill the vacancies!
Though unfortunately, the rookies’ opponents were their drill sergeants.
Due to the awful fear planted on the first day, most of the rookies were very timid, and they didn’t pull their full strength against the sergeants. But the sergeants, on the other hand, they never held back.
“Hmm, did you see that?” Ranger skillfully crooked his waist and knee to hide most of his under face behind SH’s shoulder; he whispered, “The sergeants want to become champions as well…”
“I know, but I don’t give a damn. I’m not holding back on the trail.” SH replied in the same way he was asked, “The so-called sergeants are just some petty officers. They’re gross, filthy and narrow-minded men that resemble village landlords, not even rank. Even your old man triumphs these.”
“My dad didn’t offend you somehow, did he?”
“He called me things…”
“He called you what?”
“Well… a swine.”
As they were talking, a sergeant came over to them.
“You, and you,” The man hinted SH and Ranger, “get out of the line!”
The 2 stepped a few paces forward. Then the officers instructed SH to combat elite rookies from other teams with lances. SH took his opponents down without much effort before the foe number raised to 2, 3 and 4.
After seeing SH break the last elite rookie’s foreteeth with wooden lancehead, the sergeant called stop. Then the man fetched a lance and stood in front of the gasping SH.
“Hypocrite…” Ranger cursed while feeling worried for SH.
A champion officer who has been watching the scene made a sudden chuckle then turned his head away and called a few words to a distant figure, “Oi, Anemia, over here.”
A casual-wore barbarian officer walked from afar. He was tall in the figure and rather thin as a barbarian. The most peculiar thing about him was his face. It was an area of shivering pale without any blood color.
The barbarian named Anemia came close. He greeted his companion with a few nods and ignored the camp sergeant who tried to hit on him.
“This one, he’s taken down 10 already.” The barbarian was told, “That one with a lance.”
The champion officers seemed to like using simple languages.
“Try a saber.” The barbarian glanced SH then told the camp sergeant.
The sergeant did as he was told and fetched a pair of sabers. He tossed SH one. Before SH drew the blade, the sergeant made his move.
Scarlet Heaven has been holding grudges over this very man. And he did not care about anything other than entering the Champion Legion. Thus he didn’t bother drawing the blade and blocked his opponent’s strike as he warded with the blade and sheath. Then he lowered his body and instantly flipped over his hand with the weapon and slammed the sheathed-blade on the sergeant’s head top.
The contact made a dull sound, and the tyrannical officer fell on the ground as a whole. He went fainted.
The hundred rookies all went silly-eyed at the scene. A few officers from nearby teams went over toward the spot as well. SH could not care less about it as he remained still on the ground like nothing has happened.
“He looked fun.”
“More or less.” The barbarian officered replied then raised his voice, “You, prickhead, here.”
SH took a while to know that he was the prickhead. Then he went over like an idiot.
Ranger first heard the barbarian officer said ‘I want him’, the next moment, he saw SH’s body tossed in midair and hit harshly in the earth. Dust kicked up.
“That one, what’s your name?” The substitute sergeant was upset, he shouted toward Ranger, “Quit swallowing shit, act up!”
Though feeling wronged, Ranger fetched his favorite single-handed sword and faced the new sergeant.
“FUCK!” The sergeant sprinted with a blade while talking dirty, “You nutless cunt!”
A single-handed sword was not equal to a war saber on the strength level. But Ranger’s fast pace closed the gap. Ranger was currently dancing like a flash around the officer, which made his opponent who kept hitting empty target gasp. The 2 champion officer remained still as they watched the Ranger making fun of his superior like a monkey show.
Finally, Ranger openly did a thing which gave tremendous satisfaction to the rest of the rookies: the officer who missed all his attacks slumped, weapon dropped and start drooling.
“Who’ll have this prickhead?” After Ranger showed off his archery, the barbarian officer asked his companion.
“Yours, I guess.” The companion smiled, “He’ll wear me out.”
“Good.” The barbarian hinted Ranger with his jaw and said, “Over here.”
Ranger went over with great joy. A hind of happiness after achieving his wish became apparent on his naked face.
“Impressive, you like juggling with your super, don’t you?” The barbarian smiled then Ranger felt a great sense of suppression on his chest. His body was already in the midair. He heard vaguely 3 words: I want him, then passed out beside SH’s body.
After the officers dealt with the paperwork, the comatose and miserable brothers were dragged into a van like a pair of dead dogs.
The van wagged and started driving to the next boot camp.