As the three rebel elites fell, the tide of battle shifted decisively.
Freed from their interference, the young royal army lieutenant moved like a tiger unleashed among sheep, his slender rapier flashing through the snow as he reaped the lives of rebel soldiers one after another.
The rebels tried to retaliate with their standard-issue rifles, but to the lieutenant, the bullets might as well have been crawling through the air. With effortless precision, he dodged or deflected them with the gleaming edge of his blade.
"Surrender and you'll be spared!"
After dispatching the last of the rebel marksmen, the lieutenant raised his rapier high and shouted with commanding clarity.
The surrounding royal soldiers, their morale soaring, echoed his cry in unison.
In moments, the battlefield resounded with the victorious roar of the royal army.
Seeing this, the rebel soldiers' morale collapsed completely. They dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.
The lieutenant's men, well-trained and disciplined, wasted no time. Once the fighting ended, they began tending to the wounded, gathering their fallen comrades, rounding up prisoners, and cleaning the battlefield with practiced efficiency.
"Lieutenant Maysfield, what should we do with all this grain? Burn it or…"
A burly, square-jawed sergeant approached, saluting respectfully before speaking to the young lieutenant, who was calmly chewing on a strip of sea beast jerky to restore his strength.
Maysfield Smith, that was the handsome royal army lieutenant's full name. A young noble, recently assigned to the Royal Army's Third Legion. Despite having enlisted barely over a month ago, he had already rocketed through the ranks from an ordinary recruit to a lieutenant with real command authority, a rise so rapid it was almost unheard of in the Drum Kingdom's military.
Yet, no one questioned it.
Because every rank he earned was through sheer battlefield merit.
It was said that Maysfield already held a record of a thousand kills and if not for his tendency to take prisoners alive, that number would have been even higher.
Skilled in the art of swift swordsmanship, he struck down his enemies with overwhelming speed and precision, earning him the nickname:
"Gale Blade" Maysfield.
However, few knew the truth
This Maysfield was a fake.
Though his appearance was identical to the real Maysfield, both his body and soul were entirely different. His true identity was none other than a clone created by Aaron using the power of the Twin-Twin Fruit.
A month earlier, Aaron's female clone, Arina, had undergone rigorous physical training for over a month, improving her attributes until they reached 23 points across the board. When Aaron judged her ready, he assigned her a special mission:
to impersonate Maysfield Smith.
Arina accepted without hesitation. She even had Aaron use the Munch Munch Fruit's transformation ability to turn her back into a man, perfectly mimicking Maysfield's body and appearance.
Reborn as a man once again, the clone took on a new name: Arik.
Over time, Aaron discovered that as his own strength grew, his control over his clones became sharper as well. Their mental link strengthened, and his ability to split his focus between two bodies evolved naturally.
With this, Aaron could now remotely control his clones using this "dual consciousness."
However, doing so constantly was mentally draining, so Aaron refrained from suppressing his clones' independent will. Instead, he allowed Arik to act autonomously most of the time.
And in this time, Arik did not disappoint. He flawlessly maintained the guise of Maysfield, racking up victories and rapidly rising in the ranks of the royal army.
"Take it back," Arik said softly after a pause, glancing at the several wagons of grain before him. "It would be a waste to burn it. The villagers near Snowstorm City are struggling to survive, let's distribute it to them once we return."
"Yes, Lieutenant Maysfield!"
Sergeant Dalton straightened, saluting crisply, his eyes filled with deep respect.
The other soldiers who overheard the decision shared the same admiration.
They took pride in serving under a noble officer who was not only strong and brave but also compassionate.
They all knew their commander well. Though strict during training, he was down-to-earth off the field, never looking down on commoners and never hoarding spoils or taking undue credit.
More importantly, he cared for the poor, often redistributing captured rebel provisions to the starving.
Thus, Maysfield, the persona played by Arik had become deeply loved by the lower-ranked soldiers.
Meanwhile, several of the captured rebels hung their heads in shame. Many of the wagons' contents the grain and even some of the blood-stained valuables had been extorted from local villagers by their own hands.
On the battlefield, vigilance was second nature.
Arik, out of habit, activated his Observation Haki, his eyes gleaming faintly red as he scanned the surroundings.
Since memories and insights were shared between Aaron and his clones, Arik's mastery of Observation Haki matched the original's. However, his Armament Haki remained weaker.
Ever since learning from Aaron that Armament Haki was a special byproduct of the Kuja Body Refinement Technique, Arik had begun following similar methods. He now possessed it himself though still limited to coating only his fists.
When his Observation Haki spread outward, the situation within several hundred meters instantly became clear. The calm expression on his face changed.
Arik's men noticed it immediately; his composure was their signal. Seeing him tense, they too raised their weapons, ready for combat.
"Burn all the grain," Arik ordered sharply a second later.
At the same time, he gestured subtly with his hand, a silent code his soldiers understood.
Without hesitation, they split into groups: some to torch the wagons, the rest to execute the rebel prisoners swiftly and cleanly.
"Dalton, take the men back to camp. I'll follow shortly."
Once everything was done, Arik gave his final command.
Dalton and the others obeyed without question. They knew their commander possessed extraordinary detection abilities, if he'd changed the plan, it meant something was coming. Quickly gathering only a few tokens of proof for their mission report, they mounted their snow vehicles and withdrew.
Moments after the royal soldiers departed, a massive reindeer galloped onto the scene.
Its eyes widened in fury at the sight of the decapitated rebel corpses and the burning supply wagons.
It let out a furious bellow then locked its blazing gaze on Arik, who stood silently amidst the flames, his expression cold and unreadable.
---
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