"Attention."
At Ghislain's single word, the entire squad lined up on either side.
Ghislain, with a slightly displeased expression, looked around at them and said,
"This 'squad leader' is very disappointed in you all today."
"..."
Everyone kept their mouths shut. 'Squad Leader Dougley' had become infamous for his terrible temper. He never tolerated rebuttals or excuses.
Ghislain turned his gaze to Victor, who had once bullied him, and continued, "Victor."
"... Yes."
"Why is the barracks so dirty?"
"Well... the training was too intense... we didn't have time to clean properly..."
"This squad leader does not like excuses. Everyone, down. Now."
"Now!"
The soldiers of 'Squad Dougley' quickly dropped to the ground. If they delayed even slightly, they'd face "legitimate punishment" from that "demon."
Walking back and forth among them, Ghislain spoke, "An unclean barracks can cause all sorts of diseases. It's fine if you're dirty alone. But if you spread disease to your comrades, it ultimately lowers the squad's combat effectiveness. How many times have I told you this?"
"..."
"Answer me."
"Yes, sir! You have, sir!"
The soldiers replied loudly to Ghislain's scolding, while Victor ground his teeth from his prone position.
'Damn it, everything is 'combat effectiveness,' 'combat effectiveness.' Does he think he's Count Fenris or something? Damn bastard.'
Count Fenris was famously known for revolutionizing his entire territory and system to maximize the combat effectiveness of his soldiers.
To Victor, this guy was just mimicking Count Fenris out of admiration.
'Damn it, if only I hadn't lost my position.'
Victor was bitter. Dougley's skills were just too exceptional. As expected from someone who had supposedly fought alongside the Fenris Army to defeat barbarians and seize the East with the Rayfold Army.
No matter how hard Victor tried, he couldn't keep up. And so, the higher-ups had simply handed over the squad leader position to Dougley.
'Just hurry up and get reassigned somewhere else. That way, I can take the squad leader position back.'
There were rumors that once the negotiations with the Duke's faction were over, Dougley would be promoted to a training instructor or an even higher position.
Victor fervently wished for Dougley's promotion.
At first, nobody minded when Dougley became the squad leader.
After all, they were veterans, and they thought they only needed to show him some basic respect.
But that assumption was a mistake.
'This bastard is a demon.'
Victor wasn't the only one who thought that. The other soldiers felt the same.
Dougley constantly harped on about combat effectiveness and pushed them so hard it was unbearable.
Those who lacked skill had to forgo rest and train continuously.
"A drop of sweat during training saves a drop of blood in battle! The more you sweat, the less you'll bleed!"
He would shout such things while ruthlessly driving the squad members into the ground.
The higher-ups, impressed by the improvement in combat effectiveness and discipline, gave Dougley even more authority.
The 5th Squad's original name became overshadowed by the nickname "Squad Dougley."
With that, Dougley pushed even harder.
"Roll forward."
"Roll backward."
"Roll to the side."
When he said roll, they really had to roll. Some couldn't take it anymore.
"This bastard! Enough is enough!"
Whack!
Anyone who challenged Dougley ended up on the ground with a single hit. Victor had tried several times, and even when they all attacked together, the result was the same.
Dougley fought far too well.
After that, the squad members became incredibly polite to him.
Ghislain, watching his squad members, felt quite satisfied.
'This is a situation I can really enjoy.'
It had been frustrating to avoid causing any incidents, but now that he had strong authority, he could "legitimately" push them as much as he wanted.
Even the commanders turned a blind eye when he disciplined the soldiers appropriately. If anything, they appreciated his strictness during training.
As a result, Squad Dougley was improving by leaps and bounds.
Satisfied with the amount of discipline he'd administered, Ghislain finally spoke, "Get up."
"Get up!"
"To maintain combat effectiveness, the barracks must always be kept clean. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Next, I'll inspect personal equipment."
Clatter.
Everyone laid out their equipment in front of them. Ghislain picked up Victor's spear, examined it thoroughly, and said, "This squad leader is disappointed again."
"..."
"Do you think you can maintain combat effectiveness with a weapon like this?"
Victor silently crawled to a corner and lay down. He hadn't been able to properly clean his spear after the grueling training.
Challenging Dougley would only lead to another beating, so he opted to punish himself voluntarily.
Ghislain clicked his tongue at the sight. If he had resisted a little more, he could've loosened up his fists today.
Though he was a man who never forgot grudges, he wasn't targeting Victor out of spite—definitely not.
"Victor will handle all the squad's laundry today for neglecting personal maintenance. Understood?"
"... Yes, sir."
"Make sure it's spotless to maintain combat effectiveness."
After giving his orders, Ghislain turned back to the squad and said, "As you know, we have a company tactical training evaluation coming up. The company that places first will stand at the front during the corps troop formation. You all know this, right?"
The negotiations with the Duke's faction were currently the most important matter for the Kingdom army. Naturally, the most skilled soldiers would be placed at the front.
The soldiers, however, hated being in the front. The higher-ups knew this, so they attached significant rewards to the upcoming tactical training.
This motivated many soldiers, and Ghislain had no intention of settling for anything less than first place.
"I hear our company has always come in last during these evaluations. But that was before I was here."
"..."
The squad members all stared at him, wondering what kind of nonsense their squad leader was about to spout.
With an arrogant expression, Ghislain declared, "This squad leader hates losing. So from now on, our company will be first, no matter what. If we lose to another company, I'll survive, but you'll all die. Got it?"
He was saying things that should've come from the company commander. How could one squad possibly lead the entire company to victory?
The squad members didn't know how to respond and kept their mouths shut.
"..."
"Answer me."
"Yes, sir!"
"Get down."
The squad members, faces full of despair, immediately dropped to the ground.
Even a slight delay in answering led to immediate punishment. Dougley demanded instant responses to his commands, claiming it was essential for combat effectiveness.
It bordered on obsessive. Rumors spread that he had gone completely mad trying to emulate Count Fenris.
Clenching his fists, Ghislain shouted again, "We will win no matter what! I only accept victory! Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
Hearing their thunderous response, Ghislain smiled and nodded.
The closer to the front he was during the troop formation, the more advantageous it would be for him. It made it easier to inspect or seize items.
But that wasn't the only reason.
'If I'm here, we must win.'
It was a matter of pride. Even if he was acting, losing a battle was unthinkable. Winning was instinct, ingrained in his very being.
"Alright, let's train hard today as well!"
"Yes, sir!"
Under Ghislain's leadership, Squad Dougley trained so hard they felt like they might die.
Rest was only permitted with Ghislain's approval. Their minds were consumed by thoughts of imminent death.
'But why aren't we dying?'
'Shouldn't we have collapsed by now?'
'Why... is this getting easier?'
They felt like they were dying, but they didn't. Instead, they became increasingly accustomed to the training.
Ghislain was carefully observing each of them, alternating between rest and training with optimal timing.
The others didn't realize this and thought he was simply overworking them.
After relentless training, the day of the company tactical evaluation finally arrived.
The commander of the perpetually last-place 3rd Infantry Company of the 2nd Corps shouted with a voice full of frustration, "This time, we must get first place! ...Or at least not last! If we don't, I'll make sure you all get drilled to death, so keep that in mind!"
Tactical training wasn't just about the soldiers' performance. The commander had to devise good strategies and lead effectively.
But with his current precarious position, the company commander couldn't take full responsibility.
"This time, we're attacking! Push through no matter what!"
The tactical training was a battle between offense and defense, where the goal was to either hold or capture a hill.
The designated hill was a low ridge, making it easy to climb—but fighting there was the real challenge.
This exercise wasn't about the soldiers' combat strength but rather about the commander's ability to manage troops effectively.
The 3rd Infantry Company Commander silently prayed that they would win, just once. As long as they didn't place last, it would be fine.
"Fight like your lives depend on it!"
Their opponent was the 5th Infantry Company. Both sides lined up neatly and advanced toward each other.
Watching the battlefield, the company commander shouted, "Charge!"
"Uwaaaaaa!"
The 3rd Infantry Company soldiers all charged forward. As they ran, they thought to themselves:
'This is exactly the same as last time.'
'Why is it always just a charge?'
'Ah, this guy is obsessed with charging.'
Indeed, the 3rd Infantry Company Commander had an unshakable romance with the idea of charging. He wasn't suited for his position, as his entire strategy revolved solely around charging.
"In infantry battles, the stronger side wins!"
It was easy to say, but reality didn't work that way. Charging was a tactic meant for cavalry, not infantry.
The 5th Infantry Company Commander smirked.
"Ha, he's doing the same thing again."
The adjutant beside him laughed as well.
"There's talk that the 3rd Infantry Company Commander will be fired if he places last again."
"He should be. Honestly, if someone like him stays in that position, only the soldiers will keep dying. He got that seat through noble connections anyway."
The 5th Infantry Company Commander had every reason to mock him. The 3rd Infantry Company Commander hadn't even studied proper military strategy.
His merchant parents had bribed a noble to get him the position of company commander.
"At least it's rare for a single company to participate in a war. That's a relief."
If that guy ever became a corps commander, his troops would likely charge into their deaths en masse.
"Raise your shields! This'll be easy!"
The 5th Infantry Company soldiers raised their wooden shields. Their weapons were straw-made clubs, but they were sturdy enough to hurt when they hit.
Soon, the two sides clashed.
Boom!
"Push!"
"Block!"
Both sides gritted their teeth and swung their straw clubs.
However, the 5th Infantry Company, with its solid shield formation, had the advantage over the reckless charge of the 3rd Infantry Company.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!"
The 3rd Infantry soldiers, charging blindly, couldn't even break through the first line and were beaten down.
As the enemy soldiers began to fall one by one, the 5th Infantry Company Commander laughed loudly.
"Ha ha ha! You idiots! Charging recklessly doesn't work!"
What could a bunch of infantry accomplish by charging like that? Without exceptionally strong soldiers, it was impossible to break through a wall of shields.
Watching his soldiers fall pathetically, the 3rd Infantry Company Commander shouted in frustration, "Why are my soldiers so weak? They've been trained so hard!"
"...."
The adjutant beside him remained silent.
It wasn't a matter of training but of strategy. Charging recklessly wasn't a winning tactic.
The 3rd Infantry Company Commander had tried to arrange a formation to support the charge, but his abilities ended there.
However, there was one thing none of the commanders or soldiers realized.
There was someone here who absolutely loved and excelled at charging.
Ghislain gestured to his squad members.
"Hey, are you all ready?"
"Yes, we're ready!"
Squad Dougley was positioned in the middle ranks and hadn't engaged the enemy yet.
While conserving their strength, they watched as the frontlines began to crumble.
With a sly grin, Ghislain addressed his squad.
"No matter how well they block, they'll eventually tire out. When I give the signal, don't look around—just follow me. I'll lead at the front. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
Gripping his straw club tightly, Ghislain focused on the front. He had no intention of using mana—it wouldn't be fun that way.
Instead, he planned to fight at the soldiers' level, deliberately holding back his strength.
As he watched the battlefield with the sharp eyes of a hawk, the moment the soldiers in front of him fell, he shouted, "Now!"
Whoosh!
Ghislain charged forward and struck the head of the nearest enemy soldier.
The soldier, caught off guard, couldn't react in time to the sudden attack.
Thwack!
"Ugh!"
The soldier staggered, bowing his head. Seizing the opportunity, Ghislain kicked him in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground.
He then stepped on the fallen soldier and attacked the one behind him.
"Uwaaaaaa!"
Squad Dougley, shouting their battle cries, followed suit. Though the enemy soldiers tried to block them, it wasn't easy.
"What, what's happening?"
"Why are these guys so strong?"
"Stop them! Block them!"
Squad Dougley had transformed. Thanks to their grueling training, each soldier had grown incredibly strong.
Like a sharp drill, they pierced through the enemy's formation, swinging their clubs furiously as they advanced.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
"Argh! What are these guys?"
The enemy soldiers were flustered. Clubs came flying at them with relentless speed.
Ghislain's performance was particularly overwhelming. He didn't use any special swordsmanship—just basic military techniques to swing his straw club.
Even so, the soldiers hit by him dropped like flies.
"Uwaaaaa!"
The other squad members fighting alongside them cheered. Finally, a breach had formed in the enemy's solid formation.
What happens when there's a breach? Like water rushing into a bottle, everyone naturally flowed toward it.
"Yeah! Follow Squad Dougley!"
At someone's shout, everyone surged into the opening. It was the only viable option.
The breach widened further as more soldiers poured in.
Seeing this, the 5th Infantry Company Commander jumped to his feet in shock.
"What's going on? What's happening?"
A straight path had formed, and as more soldiers poured in, the formations on either side began to collapse.
The 3rd Infantry Company Commander also stood up and shouted, "Good! Keep pushing! See? You can do it! It's working!"
An unbelievable sight was unfolding. For the first time in his life, an infantry charge was succeeding.
The battlefield heated up in an instant. Everyone, caught up in the excitement, swung their clubs with fervor.
Meanwhile, a certain observer who had come to watch the tactical evaluation out of concern was trembling as he witnessed the scene.
'Why! Why are they fighting so hard!'
It was none other than Baron Share, who had come as an observer. His face pale, he stomped his feet anxiously.
'Why is he making a name for himself here!'
He felt like he was losing his mind. The man who was supposed to keep a low profile was now rampaging as a squad leader.
Just as the rumors said, he really was a madman addicted to battle.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]