Akira's jaw practically hit the mud floor of the tent.
The girl sitting on the cot tilted her head, her expression one of genuine confusion. "What are you talking about, Akira? It's me. Rina."
Rina? Akira's mind blanked for a second. I mean... yes, Arthur always called the armored warrior 'Rina.' I knew it was a female name, but... I always pictured some scarred, muscle-bound amazon under that helmet! Not... not this!
Realizing she was staring, Akira's cheeks flushed pink. She quickly averted her gaze, her rogue's composure completely shattered. "I... uh... the 2nd Lieutenant is looking for you guys!" she blurted out in a single breath. "Command tent! Right away!"
Without waiting for a response, Akira practically sprinted out of the tent, her face burning.
Inside, Rina watched the flap fall shut, blinking slowly. She turned to the unconscious boy beside her and poked his cheek.
"Hey, Arthur. Wake up. The 2nd Lieutenant is calling us. Hurry up and take responsibility for this."
Arthur groaned, his eyes fluttering open. His body felt like it had been crushed under a boulder, a lingering side-effect of channeling Excalibur's mana. He rubbed his temples and sighed.
"Listen, Rina," Arthur croaked, his voice hoarse. "You really shouldn't use the phrase 'take responsibility' like that."
"Why not?"
"Because where I come from, people usually say that to men who got someone pregnant and are trying to run away. In this context, 'responsibility' means a baby."
Rina stared at him for a long moment. "...I see. Human customs are incredibly strange."
"You have no idea," Arthur muttered, slowly pushing himself up. "Anyway, put your armor back on, Rina. If the Lieutenant is waiting, it means the military has finally decided what to do with us."
Frontline Forward Reconnaissance Headquarters
The command tent was vastly different from the muddy quarters of the foot soldiers. It was spacious, heated by glowing mana crystals, and dominated by a large tactical map of the region.
"Permission to enter. I am Magnus, Private of the 38th Battalion."
"Granted. Come in."
Arthur stepped inside. Seated behind a heavy wooden desk was a man with sharp, hawkish eyes and a scar running down his jawline. He was shuffling through a stack of reports.
"Take a seat," the officer commanded without looking up. "I see your 'summon' isn't with you. Pity."
"She is on standby outside," Arthur lied smoothly. Rina was, in fact, standing right behind him in her spiritual form, invisible to the officer.
"Right. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kloyd, Special Operative overseeing Forward Reconnaissance Intelligence. I was the one who instructed the 2nd Lieutenant to summon you."
Kloyd finally looked up, his gaze piercing. "Time is short, so listen carefully. You are being assigned to a reconnaissance mission at Klutch Village. You and your squad will conduct surveillance there for one week."
Arthur remained silent, his expression blank.
Kloyd smirked. "You should be pleased. I know you were drafted by force. I know you despise the front lines. Klutch Village is far behind the main conflict zone. The previous recon squad stationed there was pulled to the front for the last assault, and they were all wiped out. I am sending you to fill the vacuum."
"And the catch?" Arthur asked flatly.
Kloyd's smirk widened. "Sharp. The catch is that intelligence suggests the villagers are planning a rebellion against the Imperial garrison. Your job is to suppress it. By any means necessary."
"I refuse."
Kloyd chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I anticipated that. I read your psychological profile. You don't fight for the Empire, and you certainly don't fight for glory. But I hear you have a very healthy appreciation for money."
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly. "Continue."
"During our recent push, we captured several enemy supply trenches," Kloyd explained. "We recovered a significant amount of war funds. I have absolutely no interest in lining my own pockets. Do this job, suppress the rebellion quietly, and a very large portion of those funds will be yours. What do you say?"
Arthur crossed his arms. "You could just order me to do it. I have a Slave Seal on my neck, remember?"
"I could," Kloyd agreed. "But I have never liked relying on the Slave Seal. It forces compliance, but it breeds resentment. Resentful scouts provide sloppy, or worse, fabricated intelligence. If I pay you, I buy your true cooperation. Are we in agreement?"
Arthur considered it. Money was a universal resource. With enough funds, he could buy better materials, magical cores, and perhaps even information on how to break the Slave Seal permanently.
"I have one last question," Arthur said.
"Shoot."
"You said the 2nd Lieutenant is accompanying us. Why do you, and everyone else in this camp, only refer to her by her rank? Doesn't she have a name?"
Kloyd's expression darkened slightly. He picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers.
"Perhaps she does. Perhaps she doesn't. What you need to know is that she has been fighting in this war since the very beginning. She used to be a high-ranking officer. But her rank has been systematically demoted, over and over again, until she ended up as a lowly 2nd Lieutenant in a penal battalion."
"Because of incompetence?" Arthur asked.
"No," Kloyd said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because she refuses to give her real name, and uses obvious aliases. In the Imperial Army, refusing to identify your lineage to your superiors is considered an act of profound disrespect. The brass demoted her as punishment."
Kloyd leaned forward, his hawkish eyes locking onto Arthur's. "But make no mistake, boy. Do not let her rank fool you. The only reason she is still alive, despite the brass hating her, is because her strength is absolute. Trust me on that."
Arthur stood up and gave a lazy salute. "Understood, Kloyd. I'll get the job done."
"Good. Dismissed."
As Arthur walked out of the command tent into the freezing air, he glanced at the invisible Rina.
Klutch Village, Arthur thought. A rebellion, a bag of gold, and a nameless, overpowered Lieutenant. This week is going to be incredibly annoying.