Rayne stood near the door in Axel's office, still caked in dried goblin ichor and sweat, as the lantern hanging at the back of the room cast a golden light upon everyone. He felt disgusted and reeked foul, but even then, only one thought turned in his mind.
Fredrick was an asshole.
"Sir, the scouting mission was a success. We managed to kill a pack of six goblins and find a nest near the redwoods deeper in the forest," Fredrick said, shoulders straight and voice bubbling with confidence. "I believe we can send a small party to burn it down."
Axel nodded, arms folded as he leaned against his chair. "You confirmed the nest?"
Fredrick's expression didn't waver. "Yes, I did."
No, you didn't.
"Like I reported, it's a bit deeper than what I expected, but going by the size of their hunting party, I'm assuming it's one of the bigger nests around. It's pertinent for us to kill those grey bastards before they breed more."
Expected? You had given up any hope of finding a nest.
Fredrick took a step forward and placed goblin fingers on top of the desk. "I retrieved those from the goblins as proof. They were easy opponents."
You didn't even fight any!
Rayne's expression distorted the more Fredrick talked. He had slowly managed to make a scouting report all about himself and erased any contributions from him, Nate, and Bran, who had done most of the work.
He regretted even informing the others of the nest, but it had been Bran's decision to inform Fredrick as protocol. But now, he acted as if he had done everything himself. Fortunately, he had only talked about the one nest that was closest to where he had caught up to the goblin.
Otherwise, all his merits would have been taken.
Rayne glanced around at the others, but only Nate seemed affected by the blatant thievery of merit by Fredrick, his fingers clenched. The others, even Bran, simply stared as if it was normal.
"Looks like I didn't give you enough credit as a scout, Fredrick," Axel said, picking one of the goblin fingers. "We can move men tomorrow to burn it down. But I have a question."
Fredrick's shoulders tensed. "Yes, sir?"
"You said you fought six. Why are there only five fingers?"
"Only five?" He looked down at the fingers, eyes clearly moving to count them. Then, he hesitated, looking back at the others for a heartbeat. "Must have fallen off during the trek back."
Axel raised an eyebrow, scratching at the growing grey stubble. "Is that so?"
"Yes, sir."
Rayne couldn't take it any longer. If he let Fredrick take away all the merits this time, then he would do the same next time. He knew people like him and they needed to be stopped early. Else, they would never let you grow.
Hence, despite knowing it might be taken as a breach of rank, he stepped forward.
"Do I have permission to speak, sir?"
Axel glanced at him and Fredrick turned, his eyes turning cold in an instant.
His gaze dared him to speak any further. "What do you want to say, traitor? I have already given the report."
Rayne didn't back down. "I believe the report is missing some parts."
"No, it isn't. You are just—"
"Let him speak." Axel cut off the conversation, his eyes turning towards Rayne. "Just know, if I don't find your words important, you'll be digging latrines all night."
Rayne nodded, knowing that wouldn't come to be. He briefly looked around the room, seeing the faces of the other scouts— all of them, barring Nate and Bran, looking at him as if he was a chicken under a butcher's knife.
"The reason there are only five fingers is because I chased the sixth goblin through the forest. During the battle, it ran to escape death. I managed to catch up to it and kill it before it could inform its nest. I simply forgot to cut off its fingers," he said, putting it all out. "While returning, I decided to check the area the goblin had run towards and found the nest near the redwoods."
Fredrick's face paled with each word that came out of his mouth.
"You all let a single goblin run away with all of you there?" Axel looked at every member of the scouting party. "How does that make sense? Are you all freshbloods coming here straight from the training camp?"
"It was only me, Bran, and Nate that took on the six goblins, sir," Rayne replied, feeling Axel's attention back on him.
"Where were the others?"
"We decided to split up to cover more ground after not finding signs of any goblins for most of the day."
Axel's fingers drummed once on the edge of the table, and he narrowed his eyes back to Fredrick, who looked like he had gotten caught stealing in broad daylight.
"Is that true, Fredrick?"
"Sir, it's like—"
"I asked if what the bastard said was true? Was he the one to find the nests? Did you split up in different groups?"
Fredrick gulped and slowly nodded, all his earlier confidence burst. "I delegated the orders to split up and yes, Rayne's party found the goblins and the nest. But I didn't know if he found the nest. As you know, sir, you can't trust the words coming out of a traitor." He added after a second, "But I got them to search around that area. I was going to add it all in the written report, sir."
Before Axel could reply, another voice cut through the conversation.
"May I speak, sir?" It was Bran.
Axel gave him a once-over and nodded. "Go on."
"After splitting up, we fortunately found goblin tracks and saw the goblin party. And it's true that Rayne chased the goblin and found the nest. I was there when he dragged me and Nate to the location of it."
From the back, Nate hastily nodded.
Rayne looked at both of them in mild surprise, especially Bran. He hadn't expected him to come forward like that. Was it because he disliked Fredrick? Maybe, but the reason didn't matter as much as the action.
Axel rubbed the lines on his forehead, his voice coming out chipped. "And here I thought you all didn't let the bastard bathe before coming here." He looked up and down at Rayne's ichor-covered clothes before turning his eyes to Fredrick.
The young noble stiffened under his gaze.
Rayne expected him to berate Fredrick, tell him how much of a terrible leader he was, but instead of that, Axel simply made a swishing motion at the door. "Everyone other than Fredrick. You can leave. Go wash and eat. You all did a good job."
One by one, they saluted and moved to leave, with Rayne being the last one, not happy to miss out on whatever Axel was going to say to Fredrick. But he guessed he had done his job.
Both with the scouts and to not let Fredrick run away with his merits.
As he walked out into the corridor, Rayne only felt one thing—tiredness. He hadn't realised with all the walking and chasing in the forest, but he was beat. His stomach growled with hunger and he simply wanted to lay his head on a bed and sleep away the exhaustion.
"He won't let this go."
Rayne snapped his head up at those words and looked at Bran, who stood near the stairs. Everyone else had left, possibly toward the mess to fill their stomachs.
"Fredrick?" Rayne asked.
Bran nodded, his voice grave. "No noble would let you off after insulting him like that. You know that well. I advise you not to open your doors to strangers and look at your back often."
"I didn't insult him. I just didn't want him to take my— no, our merits," he replied. "And you also spoke back in there."
Bran shook his head, looking at him as one would at a child. "A traitor's bastard or an old man with one foot in his grave. Who do you think Fredrick would blame? You started it. Nobles, especially in this country, are used to taking everything. You stripped him of that. So, be prepared."
Rayne opened his mouth to speak again, but Bran was already walking down the steps.
Unable to move, he leaned against the wall for a minute, his thoughts jumbled. Rayne knew that he already had a lot of enemies in the squad, even if he hadn't been outright bullied.
He had no intention of adding to that list, much less a Baron's son. But some things were simply unavoidable.
This was one of them.
He doubted he would do anything different, given another chance. He might not want to be in the army and simply wanted to run to have an easier life, but he refused to do all the work for someone else to take the credit.
If Fredrick came for him, Rayne would just have to be prepared.
"And the only way to do it is to get strong," he muttered, his feet taking him down the stairs, a need to level up more bubbling in his heart.
***
Rayne dipped the crust of a dry roll into the thick brown slop and took a bite, his other hand scratching ink across a ledger with mechanical rhythm.
At every new entry, he frowned—both at the taste of the watery stew he had managed to get from the mess and the extra work.
First, he had to stand in line for thirty minutes to get food, and when he returned to his room to eat in peace and avoid any miscreants already eyeing him in the mess, he had found Axel had sent the ledgers to his room.
"And I'm not even getting paid to solve this mess," he muttered, correcting the seventh calculation mistake in the ledger.
Someone had assigned three blades to one person, while someone else had calculated the total expense of food wrong. There were numerous such mistakes in the three tall ledgers he had been given.
He doubted the military in this period was as thorough as the modern ones back from Earth in maintaining records. But Rayne didn't want to do half-assed work.
Axel might notice that, and he wasn't a noble to escape his wrath. Technically, he was. Just a former one, if bastards even get the title that is.
Rayne took another spoonful of the stew and grimaced. Only the cook knew whether he had used lamb or rat meat for it. But at least it filled his belly.
Moreover, if his memories were any clue, levelling up would give him better resistance against any disease.
And God knows, Rayne had levelled up a lot.
With a thought, he pulled up his status.
***
Status (1/3)
Name - Rayne Frayser (Human)
Age - 21
Class - Soldier
Rank - Common Soldier (Forsaken), Valeria Kingdom
Level - 12
Trait - Noblesse
Health - 100%
Mana - 95%
Stamina - 90%
Stats
Strength - 23
Vitality - 13
Endurance - 22
Agility - 21
Arcane - 10
***
Any bitterness left by the stew was cleared away simply by checking his status.
He hadn't gotten any new titles, and his skills hadn't levelled up, but his stats had improved with a leap.
Though, Rayne hadn't felt any different.
He was able to keep up with the scouts, and the fight against the goblins had been easier. But was it because of his stats or because he had been better prepared?
He guessed that he would know better with time. But he was sure that five levels in a matter of days was exceptional. He simply had to keep it up, and maybe, then he wouldn't have to worry about any retaliation from—
A rap on the door rattled him. He nearly dropped the stew on the ledgers before balancing the spoon and putting it back in the bowl.
Rayne looked toward the door, the words of Bran echoing in his head. Surely, Fredrick wouldn't retaliate so soon.
He gripped his sword and quietly moved toward the door.
"Who is it?" he asked, keeping the sword in the air.
"It's me, forsaken. Open up!!" Hobbs' voice came from the other side.
Rayne relaxed instantly, lowering the sword and quickly opening the door.
Hobbs stood in the entrance, the burly man's eyes briefly wandering inside his room, stopping at the stew and ledgers before he grinned.
"I see Axel is making you work to stay in the squad. Any problems yet?"
"Just whoever did the calculations needs to go back to school. Even basic numbers are all mangled up."
"I did the numbers."
Rayne paled, his mouth opening up to apologise before he saw the grin on Hobbs' face. The giant laughed, patting his shoulder.
"Don't worry," he said. "Ardan did those. He shares your sentiments about his calculation skills. He's glad you took this job off him."
Rayne nodded before realising there must be a reason Hobbs had knocked on his door. "Why are you here? We don't have night drills, right?"
Hobbs' grin widened. "No, we aren't hunting monsters out at night. You would like them even less under the cover of darkness. What I'm here for is your new orders."
"New orders?" Rayne blinked. So soon?
"Yeah," Hobbs replied. "Axel wants you to go deeper into the forests."