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I couldn’t stop myself from opening the letter, especially since it came directly from Garios, one of the most powerful contenders for the throne of Calradia and the leader of the Western Empire. As soon as I unfolded the parchment, I saw it was an invitation—an award ceremony, no less. The letter stated that I would receive a medal from the current active governor of Lageta. That same governor who, last time, wouldn’t even give me an audience. Well, I suppose I am still a nobody in his eyes, so his disregard made sense.

I squinted at the fine script on the parchment, locating the venue and timing. The ceremony was scheduled for early tomorrow morning at the governor’s palace. I guessed that not many people would bother attending, especially given the eerie atmosphere hanging over the city. After the ceremony, there was to be a more solemn occasion—the rites for Mannes. His body was being cared for by the Pontifex, a religious figure of the Empire who, as far as I knew, would be performing the rites. They were washing him with olive oil, as was the custom.

I didn’t know much about the Empire’s funeral practices, but the idea of Mannes, my friend and mentor, being prepared for his final journey weighed heavily on me. I’d have to wait until tomorrow to see how the rites would be performed, but even now, I could feel the grief swirling just beneath the surface.

The city still felt like it was holding its breath. As I stepped out into the streets, the faint smell of damp earth from a recent rain lingered in the air. The scent mixed with the sharper, more metallic undertones of the stone buildings, as if the rain had cleansed the streets, but something grim still loomed. Few vendors had bothered to reopen their stalls after the storm, and the silence was suffocating. The usual clatter of carts and chatter of people was absent, replaced by the eerie sound of boots from garrison soldiers echoing through the narrow streets.

It was completely different from what I had seen the last time I was here. I remembered my last visit to the market, where I had encountered a girl while searching for supplies. The funny thing is, even though she had stood out to me in the crowd, I couldn’t recall her face. It was a vague memory now, like smoke that had dispersed in the wind. I wondered what she was doing, and where she was now, but even those thoughts felt distant.

Leaving the city, I walked toward the camp where Silvana and the recruits had set up. The smell of campfire smoke greeted me before I even saw the tents. As I got closer, I could pick out the mingling scents of cooked meat and burning wood—simple but comforting smells that made the camp feel like a temporary refuge from the weight of the world outside.

Silvana had organized everything efficiently. The recruits had set up their tents in neat rows, with the firepit at the center, surrounded by makeshift benches made from logs. A few pots hung over the fire, simmering with the night’s meal. The air was thick with the aroma of herbs mixed with the earthy richness of meat, a fragrance that reminded me of home, of simpler times.

As I approached, I asked Silvana, “Have we already paid the recruits and made sure there’s enough food to go around?”

She looked up from her task, her hands working swiftly as she packed away some supplies. “Yes, everything’s been handled. Food’s ready, and the recruits have been paid.”

Her response was crisp, almost matter-of-fact. She had taken on the quartermaster responsibilities with ease, and it was clear she was excelling in the role. I wanted to commend her and show some appreciation for her efforts, but before I could, one of the recruits interrupted.

Leon, a young man with a mischievous streak, said, “Silvana, I’ve run out of coins. Any chance I could get an advance on my next payment?”

Silvana’s expression darkened, and I could tell by the look on her face that Leon was about to get a stern lecture. I didn’t stick around to hear it. I chuckled to myself, knowing he’d likely spent all his pay on drinks, and left them to it. I preferred to enjoy my dinner in peace.

The meal was simple—just bread and meat, seasoned with some herbs and olive oil. As I bit into the bread, the faint taste of thyme and rosemary hit my tongue, followed by the richer, savory flavor of the meat. It was the kind of meal a Roman soldier might have eaten, practical and nourishing. But it did its job, warming me up after a long day and keeping my energy up for whatever lay ahead.

As I ate, my mind wandered back to the system that had revealed itself to me. I had been too busy dealing with Mannes’ death to explore its functions fully, but now that I had some time, I decided to dive into the mechanics a bit more. I opened the party screen again while chewing on the last piece of bread.

The information laid out in front of me was almost overwhelming in its detail. I could see every recruit’s name, their potential, and even their morale.

Leon

- Potential: Archer/Cavalry/Blacksmith

- Rank: Regular soldier

- Companion status: Cannot be converted to companion

- Morale: Average

- Gear: Poor

- Daily wage: 5 denars

Leon’s profile was basic, like the others, but the potential system intrigued me the most. The system categorized what roles each recruit might excel at—archery, cavalry, or even blacksmithing. It felt like a hidden layer of knowledge that would be crucial to my survival and future battles.

Since I knew their potential I tried to group them based on that. For Silvana the stats were

Silvana

- Potential: Archer/ Tracker(Scout)

- Rank: Companion (1/8)

- Companion status: Converted

- Morale: High

- Loyalty: High < Companion exclusive>

- Gear: Poor

- Daily wage: 5 denars

I looked at stats and figured that out of my 23 recruits, I could have at most 16 infantry, 8 cavalrymen, and 6 archers at a time based on the fact that some of the recruits like Leon had potential in multiple skills whereas some like Silvana was only proficient in one of the combat classes.

Each soldier’s wage was also listed, down to the denar. I could see who was worth their salt and who might need a little more time to grow. The system was a cheat in a way, giving me insights that no normal commander would have, but I wasn’t about to complain.

Before I knew it, the night had fallen, and the camp was settling in for rest. The crackling of the fire and the distant murmur of recruits talking quietly among themselves filled the air. The warmth of the fire mixed with the cool night breeze, and as I sat there, I realized just how much responsibility I now carried. Whether I liked it or not, I was now in charge of this group.