Ch.5: Into Chaos
While moving toward the northern part of the kingdom, the conscripts—the old and the inexperienced, the large and the small—forgot their individual circumstances and conditions, devoting themselves entirely to training.
"We'll rest here for a mont. Everyone pair up! Different from the guys you were stuck with last ti! If I catch you clinging to the sa people, you'll know what beating ans!"
"Yes!"
Except for al and sleeping ti, it was nothing but training. The conscripts needed to be tempered to be ready for actual combat as royal soldiers, and since they were all filled with the desire to survive, there was nothing to hold back.
Unfortunately, not every process went smoothly.
Urgh! Uweegh!
A rather aged, shabby-looking man began retching not long after starting sparring practice.
"...Damn bastard."
"Excuse , I... Weegh!"
"I'll say this again—don't use neural accelerators while moving. You might think you're trying your best, but the neural accelerators you're wearing are fundantally unstable. They require rest ti as much as they strain your neural networks. Unless by any chance you've been implanted with the stable neural accelerators that knights use..."
Thwack!
What followed was a soldier's kick.
"You shouldn't get excluded from training with such idiotic behavior, should you?"
"Yes!"
Everyone answered loudly to this, and soon lined up in a long row facing their sparring partners. Even though they were treated like barely human or worse, no one rebelled. The journey toward the northern kingdom was already in its second week, so only a very few had not been kicked by the soldiers. That's how difficult it was to use neural accelerators.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"Lie down a bit longer until your sense of balance returns. Getting up right away would actually be worse."
"Thanks. I wish I could do half as well as you."
And one of those 'few who hadn't been kicked' was precisely Calix.
***
Swooosh.
'Training ti. Begin.'
Amid the surrounding bushes swaying in the wind, Calix activated his neural accelerator while facing his opponent. Over the course of two weeks, he had beco able to control it through will alone instead of speaking out loud. While other conscripts took 1-2 weeks just to control their bodies properly, his relatively fast adaptation speed was surprising even to himself.
However, there were still many things he needed to figure out. When would the words 'Recovering' attached to so indicators disappear? What exactly did each indicator an, and how could he raise them? And why... Did his neural accelerator not have 'acceleration limits' applied like others'?
Swooosh-crack!
Just as Calix's neural accelerator began operating in earnest, the sound of grass rustling in the wind beca faint, and ti flowed slowly like a drawn-out sigh. Conversely, his physical senses like hearing and touch beca particularly sensitive, allowing his eyes to clearly catch even the movent of gentle breezes wrapping around his shoulders and dust particles dancing in the air.
[Reality acceleration active, 1.3x] [1.4x] [1.5x] ... ... [2.4x] ... ... [3.2x]
However, even that seed insufficient, as the reality acceleration value continued rising without rest. The slowly moving things ca to a complete stop, and this applied to the surrounding conscripts, royal soldiers, and sparring partner... Even Calix himself.
'If I move in this state... I'll be seriously injured.'
He instinctively sensed danger. It felt like when he dove beyond 11 levels into the pit. He could sink in without bodily movent, like sinking down, but if he moved even slightly—
'I'll explode from inside my body. That crazy, magical engineer also said previous users died with their tongues hanging out.'
It was a strange feeling. He could observe this mont but couldn't fully enjoy it, which was disappointing. However, he felt joy at the fact that 'Ashapel' and 'Ranita' written in the [Bloodline Ability] section seed like heroes he knew.
[Warning: maintaining excessive output for extended periods may cause fatal damage to the body]
[Please be cautious]
When the neural accelerator's warning ca, he gradually reduced output in reverse order from the previous process. From '3.2' to '2', then from '1.9' to... '1.5'.
Crack!
As pressure decreased and movent beca possible, the sound of his opponent's footsteps thundered like lightning, as if he had been waiting. This sparring opponent was a volunteer from a fairly large town, Volga. As inevitably happens wherever people gather, the conscript group had also divided into several factions. The spirited ones were naturally those who had volunteered to participate. Among them, Volga had the largest build and knew how to handle people, already controlling his own group.
"So it's you."
"..."
"I'm winning today. Even if you call it cowardly, it can't be helped. Borrowing others' strength is also an ability you need to have."
"Right. I have no complaints."
Even now, he was holding a wooden sword distributed by royal soldiers with his gang's help, while Calix's hands held nothing. Additionally, a thick gray light was flowing from around his opponent's nape. Considering most showed faint gray light, his neural accelerator's level was half a step higher. It seed like unfavorable conditions for Calix, but—
[Conversation situation ended]
[Ceasing voice signal adjustnt]
[Hostile entity recognized]
[Crude level entity confird]
[Identified as a degraded version of Astria Kingdom exclusive device 'Luminus Seraphim', output estimated at approximately '1.3']
[Maintaining current output recomnded]
[Reality acceleration 1.5x]
The opposite was true. An output difference of '1.3' versus '1.5'. Of course, ti acceleration didn't determine everything, but the difference in innate talent was also clear enough to make up for the output gap.
[Bloodline trait 'Source of Mana' activating]
[Bloodline trait 'Avatar of the Battlefield' activating]
What happens when you inherit the bloodlines of Ranita and Ashapel, and coincidentally inherit Ashapel's neural accelerator as well? Calix now knew the answer.
'Show
everything from one to ten. Where and how the opponent wants to move. I can see it even better after getting the neural accelerator.'
Flash!
As Volga's neural accelerator emitted light, mana instantly spread throughout his entire body. It spread evenly overall, but the thickest line was drawn centered on his right arm. Calix watched the entire process, vividly observing even the actual motion of his opponent, thrusting the wooden sword. What would have been unperceivably fast for an ordinary person looked like a predetermined picture to Calix.
'No need to move hastily. Calmly, just move as much as necessary.'
The evasive movent was perford calmly yet swiftly with high concentration.
Whoooosh.
The familiar sensation, like a mud pit, was similar even in breathing. Taking one breath was difficult, and limbs felt heavy... It was just like a diver's work process.
Therefore, the wooden sword approaching him beca an object of analysis rather than a threat. Instead of mud chunks, it was just a wooden sword falling—should he counterattack or dodge? Every process was under Calix's control, and in this mont, calmness and confidence emanated from deep within his heart.
And. He chose close combat.
Thwack!
After twisting only his upper body to dodge the wooden sword striking toward his left shoulder, he extended his right hand to grab his opponent's collar, but that alone was sufficient. Instead of mud, only gravity was acting, but the fundantals were the sa.
Just as losing your center of gravity in a pit causes your body to spin and lose directional sense, Volga lost his balance, even to the small grip strength, and tumbled forward, naturally leading to ground fighting afterward.
"There, stop!"
"...Huff, huff."
After about five minutes of wrestling with hands and feet entangled on the dirt ground, both had completely exhausted their stamina and were only gasping for breath.
"If the sparring is over, rest. Turn off your neural accelerators first!"
"Yes."
"...Damn bastard."
"Hm?"
"You deliberately brought it to the ground again."
Volga couldn't fail to notice that it always led to ground fighting, so his displeasure was evident in the post-sparring conversation.
"Just join my gang. I know you're skilled, but on the battlefield, numbers are everything. We need to stick together to survive."
"Well. I'm still hesitant."
"Is that so? Well, I haven't won even once against you... You might not be interested. But you'll regret it. No matter how brief, consideration always cos too late."
Calix knew too. If he hadn't taken it to close combat, it would have ended much more easily. No one could react to his movents in ti. However, since standing out too much among the conscripts would be worse than not doing so, Calix avoided showing overwhelming victory and just smiled.
"...Is it because of the other conscripts?"
"Yeah. I don't want to be treated like a bat. Besides, several of those guys openly dislike ."
"Oh my, that's jealousy! Originally, talented people live that kind of life—"
And after sparring, physical side effects from neural acceleration inevitably followed.
Tingle.
"Ugh, the muscles again... Ah, damn it. So why do you do street fighting when it's already hard enough!"
"...Haha."
The muscles that had been overloaded for that brief mont scread from all over his body.
***
They arrived at their destination on a day in the third week.
"Don't worry too much. The soldiers said so too. If the Niboria Empire had invaded, that would be different, but it's just a territorial war. My father said the sa thing. When the high-ups fight, they don't kill prisoners."
"Still..."
"Idiot, think about it. They went through the trouble of installing neural accelerators on the back of our necks, and they'd just kill us? They should keep us alive and use us."
"That, that's true."
As smoke rose beyond the hill, everyone realized the destination wasn't far, and anxiety grew accordingly. The conscripts' attention was focused on Volga. With his power to draw people in, he was lting the hearts of the anxious with a mix of half-truth, half-boasting.
"And this is a real secret."
"Secret? What is it?"
"I was told not to tell anyone... We're on the winning side. Count Johan Graham's side, I think."
"Really?"
"That's what I'm saying. Plus, the opponent is a viscount. Could you lose even if you tried? We really just need to survive. When we clash—bang—just get through that mont, and we'll be successful."
"Wow."
However, the truth could soon be confird with their own eyes.
"We're on the winning side?"
"..."
"That's just... A wooden stockade built with logs."
That was right. Although divided into outer and inner castles, the outer wooden stockade walls were already burning, and the inner castle, built of stone, had also collapsed in several places. It was at a level where it wouldn't be strange if it fell at any mont, and realistic fear spread among the conscripts.
At this point, Calix suddenly spoke up to steady Volga's shaking leadership.
"No need to make a fuss. If it were an easy job, everyone would have volunteered."
"...That's right."
When an aged man who seed to have suffered considerably agreed, the emotional chaos didn't spread further. In the anti, what was fortunate was that the attacking soldiers had lifted the siege. The conscript group soon reached the castle gate following the royal soldiers.
"Who goes there?"
"Royal dispatch transport unit. We're carrying out a mission to supply territorial war forces by royal command."
"...Wait."
And the misfortune was that the royal dispatch soldiers would not participate in combat.
Rattle.
The knight who ca out of the castle gate checked the docunts in shabby condition with chain mail stained with dried blood, signed under the royal crest, and only exchanged brief words.
"...There won't be any further support, will there?"
"No. According to the schedule set by the royal court, these are the last."
"I see, so that's it. Viscount Yenton also knew this when he lifted the siege."
"..."
"Understood. I'll be going now."
"I wish you good fortune in battle."
The royal dispatch soldiers left after completing their assigned mission, not looking back at the conscripts filled with bewildernt and terror.
"Follow ."
The count's soldiers, clearly exhausted, approached to lead them into the castle, but there was no body searching or spirit-breaking behavior whatsoever. Inside the castle, hope had already vanished, so there was no system left to speak of.
"Ah..."
The outer castle they saw on the way in was actually closer to ruins than a defensive line, allowing them to roughly guess the direction of victory or defeat, but the gloominess of the inner castle exceeded their imagination.
Smoke rose from most buildings, nearby wounded soldiers gasped weakly, and the castle walls had lost their original function, with broken stone fragnts scattered everywhere. Additionally, more than half the soldiers had lost their fighting spirit. Those sitting on the walls looked no different from the corpses piled like mountains inside the inner castle.
'I must survive.'
Calix realized at that mont. From now on, he would have to fight for survival, not victory.
Boooooo—
And just then, in the distance, Viscount Yenton's army that had been lifting the siege blew horn trumpets announcing their offensive.
***
No one can remain calm on a battlefield. Calix experienced the cruelty of war for the first ti. The sound of enemy footsteps approaching from afar, and the anxious breathing of allied soldiers.
"You'll take charge of this place."
"...Excuse , we don't even have weapons."
"Pick them up and use them."
"Pick them up... And use them?"
"Right. We're all going to die anyway."
Everyone was speechless at the pessimistic response, but only briefly.
Crack!
At the sound of sothing breaking, all the conscripts' gazes focused on one spot. Calix.
"...What are you doing?"
"Getting weapons. I don't want to die obediently."
He picked up a broken spear from the ground, cut it, leaving only the blade and handle parts, then picked up another spear shaft and looked up.
"Anyone need one?"
"...."
"No,
too!"
"Give
one too!"
Even in the worst situation, they couldn't give up, so the conscripts belatedly moved to increase their survival chances. Calix watched this scene quietly, then tucked the spear blade he had prepared into his waist and approached near the castle wall.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Waaah! Waaah! Waaaah!
The enemy forces, confident of victory, were marching in step and shouting unified battle cries. To survive, he would need to utilize everything he possessed. The first ans was... The neural accelerator of the legendary hero, Ashapel Raimund.
[Please be cautious. Multiple unidentified entities confird approaching]
[Combat facilitation function - warning before use]
[Neural network and body balance are not harmonious]
[Raising output to 1.6x or higher may cause physically fatal damage]
[Prepare for dangerous situations]
"'1.6'... Can't I go higher than that?"
He had tried talking to the neural accelerator several tis, but a conversation had never been established, so he spoke without much expectation.
[At 1.7x standard, estimated to be maintainable for approximately 15 seconds under the assumption of restricting rapid movents]
[Caution: this estimate may not match reality]
Good. This completed the first preparation. He knew his limits. And the second—
Flaaaash.
Outside the castle walls, countless colorful lights fill the battlefield. A single golden light and an extrely small number of purple lights, occasionally visible blue and green, and the majority gray. A full 2,000 neural accelerators were filling his vision with color. This was precisely Calix's most powerful weapon.
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