Nigoru Hitomi de Nani wo Negau ch 1

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1. Chapter 1

A smell spread through Walm’s nasal passages. It was the smell of human waste and internal organs, a familiar smell for him.

Right. Even though the full clash of the two armies hadn’t yet taken place, the battlefield had already begun.

Arrows and magic fired from a great distance attacked the poor soldiers, scattering their viscera in the air. Such a scene could be seen. Truly, a place for crushing and killing each other.

There, Walm’s heart was beating tautly, but still, his feet continued to tread the ground. And the poor breastplate trembled as if to assert itself, making a metallic sound.

Walm had already done his best to endure the smell so he could breathe efficiently, but now he was forced to endure the sight before him.

Couldn’t stand those anymore, Walm screamed.

“Uwooooooo, wooooooOOOO!!!”

Words with no real meaning. If anything, only in the primitive meaning of spurring oneself on and threatening the opponent.

In Walm’s hands, it was a spear 2.5 meters long. Protecting his head and torso, was dented armor.

The same could be said for the people around him. In ‘this place’, it was the formal attire. The red-black stains that couldn’t be removed seemed to be the fashion, but those substances were proof of the tragedy of its previous owner. It was as if the stains told Walm eloquently what had happened.

​​Takakura Raizou, or in this new life called Walm. He was at war.

Not the one as modern as World War I and World War II, which he knew from history and in which iron, gunpowder, science and technology were used in abundance.

A medieval one, where iron hit another iron, iron hit people’s bodies, and the body itself used to hit another body. 

Uniquely, there were <Magic>, 《Skills》, magic tools or items, and mysterious creatures too. And Walm had tasted all of these.

The man once called Takakura Raizou was given his second life as the third son of a farmer in a world other than Earth.

In fact, Walm, reborn with a new body and name in this different world, enjoyed his youth in the fields and soils.

However. one day, the draft call came to Walm. His family was given money in advance, and thus he must go.

After a month of training, Walm was then thrown to the frontline.

If the nation had the strength to spare, regular soldiers who had been trained for many years would be asked to join the war too.

But for the Empire, which was at war year-round, that wasn’t the case. Unfortunately, Walm was one of the people in such a place.

It was determined that one month of training would be enough for a large number of foot soldiers. So the rest of the training took place in the field, something Walm had experienced in his previous life.

According to Walm, the best thing to do was to implement OJT (On-the-Job-Training) immediately. Although in this case, if you failed, you would lose your life.

Half a year after joining the military, Walm survived his first battle and many more, to be exact, it would now be his 11th battle.

Those who were once in the same military service group with Walm were mostly gone from his side, completely. Some had their organs exposed, some had their heads crushed, and some had their entire bodies burned by “Magic”. There were many variations on how one could die, really… there was a great variety of ways to die.

Thankfully, the enemy was the one who did the cremation and burial. In a sense, it was like coming to a death amusement park. It might not be pleasant, but, at least, it would be hard to get bored there.

Walm, who enjoyed a peaceful world, was barely able to stay alive in the first match. But ironically, only Walm remained alive. In a situation where ‘every second mattered’, the fact that he could stay alive ―― He had no choice but to laugh at it. It was the only thing he could do at this point.

The number of those killed by Walm wasn’t just a few, but more than a dozen. The enemy soldiers wouldn’t go away even if he crouched on the ground, even if his hands trembled, even if his legs lost the strength to move. And even if he threw up after taking someone’s life for the first time, no one was waiting for him.

If there was a chance, his comrades would kill the enemy soldiers from the side, but Walm, who had experienced the battlefield many times, was already not expecting it.

It wasn’t the Highserk Empire, his homeland, or God’s guidance that saved him, but the 2.5 meters spear temporarily lent by the Empire and the 90-cm longsword that he picked up on the battlefield.

On a battlefield, everyone was equal. Walm believed this from the bottom of his heart. And indeed, death came fairly for men and women of all ages.

With this kind of messy thought, Walm had reached a distance where he could clearly see his counterpart’s face.

It was a light infantry of the Liberitoa Trade Federation that Walm hadn’t seen in a long time. Although it was a militia from the enemy’s country, perhaps the man was in the same situation as Walm.

Walm speculated the enemy had a pale face caused by anxiety and fear due to the lack of experience.

Right when the two finally reached a deadly distance, the tip of their spear crossed without any signal. The enemy’s spear approached Walm’s body, but it hit the breastplate. As the breastplate was scratched, he parried the attack with the upper half of his body, deviating the spear from his body.

Walm was exempted from collapsing together. Quickly, he aimed the spear he held at his waist at the enemy, thrusting it into the enemy’s throat. The enemy soldier tried to deflect it with the spearhead of the spear he just pulled back, but the real target was the lower body without armor.

The enemy soldier contorted his face when he felt the spear stuck in his thigh. The wound, which could have reached the bone, caused severe pain in the body and immediately robbed him of a large amount of blood.

The enemy soldier, barely able to hold the spear and unable to resist Walm’s continuous spear thrust, sank to the ground. There was a sign that he was breathing, albeit a faint one, but since he fell to the ground in the front line, what awaited him was death by the army’s footsteps.

Too bad…

Walm turned away from the soldier who was trampled by both armies.

Another soldier moved to the vacant spot. But although the soldier had a pale face like the last one, Walm felt that the soldier who just came was better than before.

The fight with the spearhead took place, but this wasn’t enough to decide the battle. Walm thought the soldier was a throwaway since he was in the front row, but unfortunately, the soldier didn’t seem to be a virgin in battle.

The tips of their spears struck violently against each other. The Liberitoa soldier flicked the spearhead from below, stepped in and smiled as he was convinced of his victory

But, Walm bowed and accepted the attack with his head.

On Walm’s head was a cervelliere. From the frontal bone to the parietal bone, it was protected by a circular bowl of iron. The neck was protected by the chain, and the temporal region was protected by a flat plate that extended from the bowl to the cheeks.

The spear hit the temple of Walm’s left side, but, it slipped and was deflected upwards.

Walm gritted his teeth and endured the dull pain. Then he thrust his spear twice into the face of the Liberitoa soldier, who was no longer smiling.

The first thrust went into the cheek, the second into the eye. The spearhead pierced the eyeball and caused fatal damage to the brain. As Walm brought the spear back into position, the enemy soldier fell to his feet like a lifeless doll with a broken thread.

“F*ck”

Walm threw a swear in a low voice. He had killed two people, but of course, the battle wouldn’t end there. Another enemy soldier lunged at him, snarling.

Walm thrust out his spear to intercept the soldier, as if refusing to associate with a stranger who suddenly came at him like a bloodthirsty, hungry wolf, but the spear was deflected by the armor.

The enemy soldier was armored from feet to head. Considering the equipment, it was a difficult opponent. Perhaps a 10-man Commander or a Platoon Commander

After being repelled, the two-handed sword was unleashed with momentum and approached Walm’s throat.

Walm abandoned the spear and intercepted the sword with the round shield he carried on his back. Unlike the attack he had received so far, the blow was really heavy. With this blow, he felt the high skill of the enemy.

The round shield was scratched diagonally, and the impact that was left behind made Walm’s palm go numb.

From what Walm had learned from his experience, it was a bad idea to let his hands rest and relinquish control of the fight to the other party. So he pulled out the longsword and slashed it from below toward his throat, only to be knocked back by the back of the soldier’s hand.

Walm then tilted the round shield to the left to parry the two-handed sword swung from above

Walm parried with shield Illustration

The shield was scratched again and there was an overlap of the slash with the previous slash.

Walm became nervous at the thought that the third slash would be difficult to deal with. There were also differences in armor, and if he tried to engage the enemy in a direct way, he would inevitably lose.

Walm prepared to step in, squared his shoulders, shifted his weight on them, and thrust with a rounded shield. It might be a short-lived thrust, but there was also the fact that this happened immediately after the big swing, so the enemy soldiers lost their posture a bit backwards.

Without stopping, Walm took advantage of the situation where the view was blocked by the round shield to thrust the longsword from the back of the shield into the soldier’s feet.

The chains hung down from the waist to the thighs so that only the edge pierced the skin. The enemy soldier who received the sharp longsword leaked an anguished voice.

The enemy soldier flew back while swinging down the two-handed sword, but since he wasn’t properly on the ground, Walm didn’t miss the opportunity.

The blow was slower than the previous one, and Walm was able to look ahead. He took a larger step than his opponent to close the distance, and thrust the blade from below as if rubbing it against the armor.

“Uhhhhh, Aarggh?!”

As the blade penetrated the enemy soldier’s lower jaw, it broke the palate and reached the brain. The enemy soldier, instantly losing his strength, continued to cling to the tip of the sword under his own weight. Walm didn’t even need to confirm his death.

To lighten the load on the sword, Walm tossed the corpse aside. Everyone focused on the enemy in front of them, but one of the enemy soldiers noticed him.

“Platoon Commander?!!”

Hearing the shout, Walm noticed the upset soldier. 

And almost immediately, when this scream-like cry was heard, an attack movement of the enemy on him accelerated.

“There’s a Magic User!!!”

As the mana swirled from the group of enemies, a fireball was released from the soldier’s hand. Walm reflexively raised his shield and bent to the ground. The deadly destruction he had feared failed to materialize, and the fireball landed a few feet away.

The blast caused his hair to flutter and his skin to grow hot. Walm smiled bitterly as he managed to avoid a direct hit with his shield and body. The two allies who were hit directly were unfortunate.

Walm’s eyes, accustomed to the battlefield, reflected the misery of his friends. One had his arms burned to the midsection and torn apart, and the other’s head was completely gone. Fresh pieces of flesh stuck to the helmet he wore, leaving burnt blood behind.

Some people threw spears at the abominable Magic User, but he had slipped into formation and was now protected by the surrounding soldiers. The enemy Magic User soldier was herded like their own first son, and when Walm saw this, he spat out words saying that he was really envious.

Walm learned that even in a world where one in every ten people had some aptitude in an attribute, the one who could use magic properly was treated as rare and was more valuable than common soldiers.

Most of the time they supported the infantry from the side or from behind, but probably the Liberitoa Trade Federation sensed the unfavorable situation and now mixed some Magic Users into the infantry unit.

Did they feel the unfavorable situation?

Thought Walm, as he mingled with the hustle and bustle of soldiers. Not long after, he heard the roar of explosions and the rush of wind magic. When he saw an ice spear from the back of a friendly army pierced the enemy’s shoulder with a shield, he slashed his longsword horizontally so as not to miss an opportunity.

The longsword broke through the defense of the enemy soldier’s arms and slit his throat.

Blood spilled out like a broken water pipe, and the enemy soldier squeezed his throat in distress, but as Walm expected, it only extended his lifespan by tens of seconds.

At the exact moment when Walm’s killing count was at three, a scream roared that determined the war situation he had been waiting for.

“Friendly troops have pushed the sides!!!”

While the foot soldiers held the position in front, the light infantry overtook the enemy side forces and attacked the main force from the side.

Whatever the commander of the Liberitoa army would do in this unfavorable situation, it would be almost impossible to turn the situation around. What a really bad commander.

“Don’t stop!! Keep pressing!! The enemy formation has collapsed!!!”

As the blood-soaked sword was raised to the sky, the Squad Commander’s voice echoed. The soldiers responded with as much roar as they could muster.

The enemies, withstanding the onslaught from the front and sides, tried with all their might to rebuild their formation, but the collapsed unit began to rout, and the formation was torn to pieces.

The semi-besiege of the one-wing breakthrough, which Walm had seen many times before, was once again complete. It was a tactic at which the Highserk Empire was good.

The left side of the enemy army that now remained on the battlefield were soldiers without proper command systems, soldiers who continued to fight despite the situation, and soldiers who gave priority to flight

Thus, the soldiers of the Highserk Empire began to attack the remaining army of Liberitoa Trade Federation, which had lost its function as an army and half of its soldiers, running everywhere to save their own lives.

Arrows and spears attacked the enemy soldiers who threw away their weapons and shields, and those who tried to escape. And those who were caught in their attempt to escape were hit on the back of the head with a war hammer.

Some of the veterans were able to hold some numbers of the Highserk troops, but now they were being beaten and slaughtered, some were cut, some were pierced by five or six spears together. In any case, their last stand was only a futile struggle.

In this battle, which lasted 2 hours, the Liberitoa Trade Federation lost 60% of their troops, and the conflicting borders tilted heavily toward the Highserk Empire.

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