Feyre

  It was only a couple days after the announcement that all of us that had volunteered were going to be shepherded off to a military outpost not too far from the city. Scout reports had apparently come in that implied the enemy were also gathering and training their troops. This was going to end up being a battle of the fodder units, and the city lord had decided that we were going to be the most elite fodder units the world had ever seen.

  I had some random stuff in my rucksack, making it look like I was preparing for a proper journey, when in reality I was just putting all the important stuff in the Storage. To further along the illusion, I had also filled my pouches on the belt with different things that had moderate value but I wouldn't miss if I lost them.

  The route to the gate we were going to leave through was immensely packed. I could see a couple more senior groups or people who were being given a wider berth by the more rookie of the mercenaries and outsiders. I was not someone who was given a wide berth, but I was given enough space to walk. That was nice of them.

  "Atten-tion! To all of you honourable lot who signed up to fight for our country and city without being forced, let me just briefly thank you! Alright, thanks over."

  The speaker, who was on the wall above the gate, breathed in deeply. I assumed he was about to absolutely bellow out his next command, and I wasn't far off.

  "Form into ten ranks! Groups should stick together where possible but this is only so we can march to the outpost!"

  I felt compelled to walk over to the nearest line that was forming, but decided to wait a bit. I was petty, and when people used mental skills I often decided to not do what they wanted, at least not straight away.

  After we were all in loose rows a group of soldiers all formed up at the gate in a perfect formation. I couldn't tell if this was them showing off or just how it was always done. Thankfully my unasked question was answered when the guy in charge, he looked like a drill sergeant meme with his funny hat, started shouting orders.

  "You call these lines!? Form ranks properly!"

  That was probably the nicest he's ever been to recruits, maybe because I bet a lot of these groups could pummel him into the ground quite easily. Whatever the case, the ranks were formed 'properly' and the drill sergeant wannabe turned around and stalked to the front of the soldiers.

  The gates opened and we were off. It was a mishmash of walking speeds and I could visibly see the wannabe's veins bursting in my mind. I just used my acting skill in order to know how to march efficiently. On either side of our columns were a couple guards, they were both trying to set the pace, and demonstrate how to march. When one of them locked eyes with me and nodded, I knew I was probably going to end up being seen as some sort of legacy or someone who pestered a local veteran to teach me. I was too young to be a veteran myself after all.

  The march wasn't too long, and a couple people that had been struggling with the pace more than others were taken to the back. I could hear the 'gentle coaching' on how to march effectively all the way from near the front. Somehow that was a morale booster. The outpost we were heading to was large. Probably the size of a small town or large village. Which, considering our numbers, made sense.

  Upon entering the first gate, of which there were four, I saw multiple huge training grounds filled with outdoor gyms, sparring rings, and archery/magic lanes. With the magic I had to assume because some of the targets were mildly singed. Without warning, the soldiers at the front all stopped and about faced in perfect synchronisation.

  "Show-offs."

  I turned to the older gent beside me and tried to suppress my amusement. We locked eyes and he smiled as if he'd been caught stealing from the cake tin. Almost instantly a soldier was in between us and glaring at us both as we tried to look innocent and as if we were listening to the propaganda being spewed by the current speaker.

  I had the help of acting but this old man was also very good at pretending to listen while also definitely not. I had a feeling he was or would be someone fun to talk to. The soldier glared at us both one more time before continuing down the line, staring into people's souls and giving a few people quite the fright as he just seemingly appeared from nowhere.

  My first thought was that this was a form of hazing. Either that or sizing us up to see where we should end up. The soldier's eyes had lingered on my arming sword for a bit longer than they had on my chest. If I wasn't currently trying to not get into trouble, I would have hit him on the head like they seemed to do a lot in Errol.

  Finally, the insanely long welcoming speech that could have just been a couple sentences finished and we were all directed to different numbered barracks. I was in barrack nine dash two. There were three barracks for each column. Somehow this ragtag military or whatever we were going to be was more progressive than Earth, because magic, and each of us had a tiny room that was very clearly bigger on the inside.

  Mixed barracks took a while for me to accept, mostly because I hadn't been given a key until I'd gotten there. Once I had my key, however, I realised that there was almost certainly magic involved that would mean only I could get into my room. Magic was so useful to assuage a worried gal's fears.

  The room wasn't that much smaller than the one I'd had at the inn, and was far more uniformed in it's decoration. There wasn't a window but a couple sconces on the wall told me I wouldn't be lacking in light. I might even be glad there was no outdoors if I was right about the upcoming training days.

  We were all gathered once more, this time in front of a stage, where a couple people in ornamental armour or uniforms were standing. I was one of the first ones to arrive, even after having deliberately taken my time to 'unpack'. I walked over to a marked line with the number nine next to it in the ground and stood, my acting skill telling me I should stand at ease.

  A few appraising eyes drifted over me, none of them lingering except, again, on the sword. These men and women, as there were a couple, were obviously the ones who'd be in charge of this outpost and it's inhabitants. Twelve of them stood up above us as more and more trickled in. Of the twelve, ten of them were each standing in front of a column. Before me stood a giant, that was the only explanation. Even next to the men in full plate, this guy, in a uniform, was at least two heads taller than the next tallest.

  He must have caught me staring because he looked down at me and grinned toothily. I could feel the people behind me shudder but acting kept me from doing the same. He nodded and turned to the two who weren't in front of any lines, a man and a woman, both going gray but not quite there yet.

  The woman cleared her throat and the entire area quietened. I hadn't really been using identify on people recently as I quite quickly found out it was considered rude, while reading about the culture of Errol and the Queendom it was in. However, I was really super duper curious about these people, so I just wanted their names, titles and classes.

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  [System]

  [System Target Status]

  [Name: Luferra Knaol]

  [Title: Acclaimed General]

  [Class: Adept General]

  [Subclass: Elite Warlord]

  ...

  [System Target Status]

  [Name: Dirose Knaol]

  [Title: Strategist of The South]

  [Class: Elite Tactician]

  [Subclass: High Magus]

  ...

  [System Target Status]

  [Name: Lysander Snow]

  [Title: The Mad]

  [Class: Knight Lieutenant]

  [Subclass: Viscount]

  ...

  They were all absolutely the higher ups, but why was the one in charge of my group the one with a title called 'The Mad'. So unfair.

  The two who were both the most important and also going gray had the same second name, which led me to believe they were married or siblings. I decided that I'd just try to avoid them, rather than find out.

  The speech went as I expected it would. Mostly the two Knaols telling us that we were destined for great things if we stayed with the country and the like, as well as setting the ground rules for staying in the outpost and army. This outpost had far more lax rules than the other ones, mostly because we were volunteers and technically not all of us were even citizens of this country, for example yours truly, and could likely sneak away and defect.

  They droned on and on for what felt like forever but thankfully even when I wasn't paying attention, my acting skill made it look like I was. I caught some bits and pieces sometimes, such as one point where the two were talking about the different barracks and our most esteemed people in charge of said barracks.

  I only started actually paying attention again when they introduced Lysander Snow, the Mad, as the one who was going to be in charge of the training and keeping the order in the Barracks of group nine. I found it odd they weren't using anything like platoon, or echelon, or basically any sort of military term I would have thought our group of roughly 65 would warrant.

  "Lieutenant Snow, the absolute mountain of a man standing there, is also going to be a field commander. Those of you in Barracks nine are the ones we assumed would already know how a militia would work, or can learn very quickly."

  The entire assembly of militia men and women seemed to turn to look at us as we stood a little more rigidly and straightened up our line even more. I suddenly felt quite out of place. In my previous life the closest I'd ever gotten to an actual military was in laser tag and paintball games with some friends that had joined some different branches.

  It was dawning on me now, just how deeply I'd gotten myself into this cesspit. I shook my head mentally, as doing it physically might just get me stabbed, and ignored any other trains of thought that weren't useful.

  The two Knaols moved on the the next person and I zoned out again, the assembled people no longer staring at my group.

  It was the next morning, just as I had left my room none other than Lieutenant Snow walked up to me. Up close he somehow felt even taller, and I wasn't exactly a short lady anymore.

  "It's Feyre right? Come with me if you would."

  I nodded slowly and decided that it wasn't so much a request as a barely concealed order. He spun on his heel and marched off towards a large barrack building which I assumed was the officers'.

  I was right. He opened the door and inside were a couple of the other officers that were going to be in charge of the other groups. I didn't know any of their names but a couple did give me curious and even maybe slightly sympathetic looks as I trailed very closely behind my Lieutenant.

  "I should've said this earlier but you ain't in trouble ma'am. I had just wanted to talk to you about some things maybe a bit more private. One of which I'll get my secretary to do, as it ain't right for a man to involve himself in women business."

  I raised my eyebrow at that and he chuckled.

  "Was her words not mine."

  I hummed in acknowledgement. We hadn't been told whether to call our officers sir, ma'am, their rank, or some other honorific, so I was just trying not to say any.

  As we walked I noticed a few things. The first was that he was leading us the long way through this place, probably so I couldn't find my way easily should I be a spy or assassin. Second, being that all of the soldiers on guard duty seemed to look wary of both Me and Lysander. It was a strange thing, one which I decided not to ask about unless someone else brought it up, for fear of insulting the absolute unit that was to be my commanding officer.

  Eventually, we reached an old oaken door. It was large, large enough for Lysander to not have to duck in order to get in, and surprisingly not creaky as he pushed it open. Inside was an office fit for a lord. Which, judging from his viscount Subclass, Lysander was.

  A chair was pulled out and set on the other side of the great desk and he gestured for me to sit, before he himself took a seat on a plush looking chair.

  "When you signed up, you said you were a knight in training. I am not a Knight who's ever been in charge of Para-Knights or Psuedo-Knights, so I am not entirely sure of their levels or the actual class names. However I would like to know at least a bit about your history and past. I am telling you now, I have ways to find out if you are lying while you tell me this."

  I nodded. Thankfully, I could not lie and still lie. One of my many characters created for Eurani was a Knight who had made it all the way to Legendary status before I grew bored of the play-style and created what would late be known as the Benevolent Goddess.

  "I started off as a trainee under my master. I don't know what level or title he had earned but I knew that even the equivalent to the Knight Captains back home respected him greatly."

  He nods at my words, and gestures for me to continue.

  "I trained day in and day out for a long time, grinding and fighting alongside him until he deemed me worthy."

  At that he frowned but didn't say anything.

  "I was unfortunate. While on a mission given to me by my commanding officer, my country fell. It was not a long war, nor was it an overly bloody one. Most surrendered when they found out who it was that they were fighting."

  He raised his eyebrows at that before humming and proceeding to ask a question, one which I was sure he already knew the answer to.

  "And your master, he never said you were ready? Never told you that you were fit to become a knight?"

  I shook my head at that, I wanted to be seen an an apprentice, on the same level as a Para-Knight or the Pseudo-Knights in this Queendom.

  "Nay, t'would I could tell you I was a fully fledged knight and deserving to fight at your side. But I did not even earn a single crest upon my banner before my country fell and was assimilated."

  The country in question, of course, not actually being the Aetherium Republic as I had said earlier, but the country of the tutorial in Eurani which was absorbed into the Iftanian Theocracy, or just Iftani as the time I was playing, at the end of said tutorial.

  "My apologies for bringing up difficult memories then. Onto the next set question I have for you ma'am."

  "It was no bother, I have had a decent amount of time to think about the fall of my country. I am at peace with it, now."

  "Good. I want to know whether or not you have a code of chivalry that might get in the way of our operations on the battlefield."

  I shook my head.

  "Unless you were to order me to do something horrific such as murder innocents, or noncombatants. No, there should be no problems."

  "Good. With this up coming training, I am expecting you to be at the head of, or at least near the head of the pack. If only because you should be used to the drills, unlike the more free types that came from the guilds. Will this be an issue?"

  I shook my head again. This sort of questioning continued for quite a while, until eventually a very beautiful woman entered and smiled at Lysander.

  He nodded once curtly and smiles back at her. Then, he turned to me grimly.

  "I'd like to take this opportunity tell you now that this wasn't my idea, I think you're fine."

  And he was gone.

  I was left in a room with a smiling secretary and I had a pretty good idea on what she was holding.