He slowly opened his eyes, his mind still clouded with confusion.
Pain spread through every part of his body.
In the distance, he could hear the clash of swords striking shields and steel.
Shouts filled with rage and courage echoed across the battlefield.
All these sensations made him realize one thing—
He had awakened in the middle of a fierce battle between two armies.
He stared at the sky for several minutes without moving, trying to regain his focus.
Gradually, his mind cleared.
Memories surfaced, one after another, until the situation finally became clear to him.
"Ah… so that's how it is."
"I've incarnated into a new body."
"But this will be the last time I can do it… the incarnation artifacts have already been destroyed."
He soon noticed that the sounds of battle had moved farther away.
Slowly, he rose to his feet and stretched his limbs.
"Good thing reincarnation always comes with the benefit of healing the body… otherwise dealing with this new body would have been troublesome."
"Sixteen stab wounds… what a deadly trap the original owner of this body fell into."
Looking toward the battlefield ahead—and recalling the memories of this body—he understood perfectly what kind of battle he was standing in.
And he knew exactly what he had to do.
After stretching, he looked down at the corpses scattered around him.
Some were allies. Others were enemies.
Glancing at his torn armor, he decided to change it.
He soon found the body of an ally whose armor was still intact. The man had died from an arrow that pierced his eye.
He removed the armor and wore it instead of his ruined one.
Then he began gathering weapons.
He placed four light swords on his belt—two on each side.
Next, he took a quiver and filled it with arrows before fastening it to his belt behind his back, angled just right so he could draw arrows quickly during battle.
From the corpse of an enemy, he removed an upper back strap and tied it diagonally from his shoulder to his waist.
Not long after, he found a massive sword—one and a half meters long and nearly twenty centimeters wide.
He secured it across his back.
Then he fastened a small round iron shield to his left forearm.
Finally, he picked up a spear with a metal shaft and held it firmly in his hands.
"Hm… this body isn't strong enough to carry more weapons."
"But this should be enough for a battle of this level."
While thinking this, he suddenly turned his body after hearing footsteps and distant movement behind him.
"Ah… the corpse-collection logistics unit."
As he looked at them, two soldiers approached and stopped a short distance away.
Their expressions showed clear confusion as they looked at the soldier standing before them.
After all, this was the first time they had seen someone carrying so many weapons in the middle of a fierce battle.
More weapons might sound useful—
but in reality, they were usually nothing more than a burden due to their weight and the extra space they required to move.
Still, it didn't matter much to them.
One of them spoke first with a serious expression.
"Who are you? Identify yourself and state which unit you belong to."
The man thought it was natural for them to ask.
After all, it wasn't uncommon for enemy soldiers to pretend to be dead, then later rise, change clothes, and attempt to assassinate members of the weak logistics units.
It was a well-known—and frankly foolish—trick.
But sometimes it worked.
Especially if the person attempting it didn't care about being alone deep behind enemy lines.
Someone who tried such a stunt usually believed they could carve a path through the logistics unit and reach the enemy general's command tent.
Well…
Anyone attempting that would have to be extremely skilled and powerful.
Otherwise, they might as well forget about ever reaching the general.
Even without passing through the logistics corps, a general would always be surrounded by elite knights serving as personal guards.
…
"My name is Rathless Meriom."
"Corporal, under the command of Platoon Leader Lieutenant Zhang."
Rathless paused briefly before continuing.
"My men and I fell into a deadly trap. The entire unit was wiped out."
"As for me… I was lucky. A knight's horse struck me and knocked me unconscious."
After hearing his explanation, the expressions of the logistics soldiers relaxed slightly.
They immediately gave him a military salute.
"We salute you, Corporal. Forgive our rudeness, and we are sorry for what happened to your unit."
"May the Creator have mercy on the martyrs of the nation."
Seeing this, Rathless returned the salute.
Then he ignored them and turned his gaze back toward the battlefield ahead—
where the battle was still raging.