The First Night at the Barracks

Karl looked at the tired, bewildered subordinates behind him. Their first priority was finding somewhere to settle down.

He had originally planned to find a decent inn so that these people who had traveled so far with him, their futures uncertain, could at least sleep somewhere warm.

But after trying several places along the main street, all he received were apologetic shakes of the owners' heads.

"Sorry, my lord, we're full."

"Other pioneer lords like you have booked everything..."

"There really aren't any rooms left."

Karl quickly realized that most of the other young nobles who had arrived in Fran City before him had chosen to huddle inside the relative safety of the city's inns, numbing themselves with alcohol and putting off reporting to the Governor's Office.

As though the dangers of the Northern Territory wouldn't descend upon them as long as they refused to face the process.

That ostrich mentality had filled every inn, while many comparatively favorable pioneer territories marked on the map remained untouched.

Karl couldn't help laughing at such self-deception, but the real question was: where were his nearly forty people supposed to sleep tonight?

His gaze swept over the soldiers patrolling the streets and standing guard at every intersection, and an idea came to him.

He summoned an attendant, asked where Richter, the guard squad captain from earlier, had gone, then took two knights with him to find the man.

Richter was checking a list inside the Guard Room near the city wall. He seemed surprised when Karl came looking for him.

"Lord Karl? Is there anything else you need?" Richter asked, setting down the parchment in his hand.

Karl stated his purpose directly. "Captain Richter, all the inns in the city are full. I'd like to ask permission for my men and me to stay in the City Defense Army barracks for the night."

A clear look of surprise appeared on Richter's face. He even found the request somewhat absurd. "My lord, you must be joking. A barracks isn't somewhere you should be staying. Your soldiers can stay here, no problem. We can squeeze them in somehow."

"As for you and the two Sir Knights, there must be some way to arrange rooms at the inns. Those people might be occupying the place, but with your status, if you tell them to give up one or two rooms, they won't dare refuse."

He was speaking practically. The noble class had its own rules, and if Karl truly lowered himself and demanded it, he would most likely succeed.

But Karl shook his head, his tone calm yet firm. "There's no need. Wherever my warriors are, that's where I am. Letting soldiers suffer at the front while their general enjoys himself in the rear isn't my style."

His voice wasn't loud, but every person behind Karl heard it clearly.

The two knights, Brendan and Roland, paused slightly, and the way they looked at Karl's back changed.

The six Knight Squires instinctively straightened their backs.

As for the militiamen who had been hanging their heads, believing they had merely been bought by their families and sent here to die, they abruptly looked up, staring at the young nobleman in disbelief.

They were simple people who hadn't seen much of the world, but they knew who treated them well and who respected them.

Those simple words were like a warm current, scattering the chill of the Northern Territory and the fear in their hearts. For the first time, they felt that the Lord they followed seemed... a little different.

Richter was stunned as well. He studied Karl again, seemingly trying to find some trace of hypocrisy or affectation on his face, but all he saw was calm sincerity.

The surprise faded from his face. He nodded, and a faint, almost imperceptible respect entered his voice. "Since you insist, my lord... I'll take you there now. But the barracks are truly in poor condition. Please be prepared."

"Thank you for your trouble." Karl nodded.

Richter led them through several alleys to a barracks area near the western city wall.

The moment they entered the gate, a stench of sweat, leather, mildew, and cheap ale hit them head-on.

The low barracks buildings were constructed from a mix of stone and wood and looked extremely old. Many windows had been nailed shut with boards or covered with thick oiled paper.

The open ground was full of mud and horse droppings. Several soldiers were huddled around a brazier for warmth, only lazily rising to salute when they saw Richter enter.

Richter found the largest barracks building, one that appeared to be temporarily vacant. He pushed open the door, and an even stronger smell of mildew poured out.

"This used to be a warehouse. It was only recently cleared out, so there's plenty of room. It's just a little drafty. Lay down some dry grass and pitch your tents, and it should be passable."

Karl looked around. The room was completely empty, with packed dirt flooring. Damp stains marked the corners, cobwebs hung from the roof beams, and cold wind whistled in through cracks in the walls.

"Excellent. It's more than enough. Thank you, Captain Richter," Karl said sincerely.

Richter waved a hand. "I'll have someone bring over some dry grass and hot water. Come find me if you need anything else." With that, he left.

Karl turned around and began directing everyone to work.

The attendants and militiamen worked together, sweeping the floor, laying down thick beds of dry grass, and then pitching the Military Tents they had brought.

The tents were small, so several people had to squeeze into each one. Karl's own little tent was quietly set up by everyone in the very center.

No one complained. Instead, they worked with enthusiasm, because their young lord was genuinely working alongside them, showing no disgust for the filthy, dilapidated surroundings.

Their simple dinner consisted of Black Bread, Salted Jerky, and a little Meat Soup.

After eating, the exhausted soldiers quickly crawled into their tents and fell into deep sleep beneath their blankets.

The old knight Brendan arranged the night watch. The camp gradually quieted down, leaving only the crackling of the brazier and the faint sound of bugles drifting from the distant city wall.

Karl lay on his camp bed. Though exhausted, he couldn't fall asleep for a while.

He could hear the footsteps of patrolling soldiers outside his tent, as well as Roland tossing and turning in the neighboring tent.

"Roland, still awake?" Karl asked softly.

There was a rustle from the next tent, followed by Roland's lowered voice. "My lord, you're still awake too? I'm... a little excited, and a little nervous."

"Because of the operation three days from now?" Karl asked.

"Partly," Roland said, his voice carrying the vigor and hopes for the future typical of a young man. "My lord, to be honest, I was willing to come with you to the Northern Territory because I hoped for a real adventure! My knightly training in the Royal Capital was too slow. It felt like I'd never have a chance to rise. I wanted to come to the Northern Territory and see whether I could encounter some extraordinary opportunity, prove myself!"

Karl smiled silently. A very typical young knight's dream. "But this place is dangerous. You could lose your life."

"As a knight, I can't fear danger!" Roland's tone immediately became resolute. "And fighting for my Lord and protecting my Lord are a knight's duties!"

Karl fell silent for a moment, then asked the other side, "What about you, Brendan? Surely you didn't come looking for some extraordinary opportunity too?"

The older knight Brendan appeared to be awake as well. His voice was much steadier, carrying a weathered rasp. "My lord, I simply felt that if you didn't even have one proper knight at your side, this journey would be difficult. So when the Duke asked who was willing to follow you, I stepped forward. Just as Roland said, fighting for one's Lord is a knight's duty."

It was a simple reason, yet it carried the reliability and loyalty of a Veteran Soldier.

They might each have their own reasons, but at this moment, they were Karl's only support.

"I understand," Karl said quietly. "Get some rest. Starting tomorrow, we'll be very busy."

"Yes, my lord!" they both answered softly.

The camp became completely quiet. Karl closed his eyes, but sleep still wouldn't come.

He reviewed the intelligence provided by the system regarding the Kobold ambush, refusing to overlook a single detail.

Thirty Veteran Soldiers from the City Defense Army, plus his own thirty-eight people. The militiamen's combat ability was questionable. Against fifty Kobolds, they held the theoretical advantage, but an ambush involved too many Variables. Terrain was the key.

He recalled the approximate location on the map, considering how to use the terrain to turn the tables on those Damn It Kobolds.

It wasn't until the latter half of the night that Karl finally drifted into a hazy sleep on the cold, hard camp bed.

It was his first night in this world, spent in the cold, worn-down barracks of Fran City.

The future was uncertain and danger lurked everywhere, but at least he had taken the first step and seemed to have won a small measure of genuine loyalty from the people around him.