Although the 3rd White Unit of the Izell Army had officially been reassigned to the 9th Ten Unit, Leo and his new squad still lived separately from the main barracks.
The timing of their full relocation remained unclear—buried under layers of military bureaucracy and "adult matters" that no one wanted to explain to young corporals like Leo.
Still, things had begun to change.
Leo, now a proper squad leader, was assigned to guard rotations like the other members of the White Unit.
The fortress exterior was intimidating, but the duty shifts were sensibly arranged. The fortress's large population meant the soldiers had enough time to rest between shifts.
In theory, all soldiers had to be ready for immediate combat at a moment's notice—but unless the enemy launched a full-scale assault, shifts rotated on a daily basis. A single territory's army would guard the walls for an entire day, splitting the watch into two 12-hour segments—day and night.
Oddly enough, it felt easier than modern life in the 21st century.
Even rest days weren't completely free. Each unit had scheduled training, maintenance, or marching drills. Practically speaking, soldiers worked two days and rested two days in a repeating cycle.
"They said the training's brutal."
Kenneth and Arden had warned him. Still, the inside knowledge had been invaluable.
The tension of his first guard shift during wartime was real, but it passed uneventfully. No arrows, no skirmishes—only Leo's sharp eyes watching for the slightest movement from the enemy encampment.
When not on duty, Leo trained relentlessly.
He focused on two skills: Swordsmanship and the more demanding Ancient Warrior's Sword Technique.
While swordsmanship progressed steadily, like other SN-grade skills, the ancient technique proved far more resistant to growth.
"Is the difference between grades really this big?"
Despite putting equal effort into both, the R-grade skill barely budged in proficiency.
In a war zone, that kind of sluggish progress was maddening.
Leo had grown too used to the smooth curve of growth offered by his skill window. In truth, the pace was still absurdly fast—most swordsmen took years to master what he was learning in months.
Still, frustration clung to him.
He couldn't afford to ease up. His training was his lifeline—the only thing standing between him and a meaningless death.
But even that harsh peace wouldn't last.
As Leo climbed the wall for his second shift, something strange emerged on the horizon.
"What… is that?"
A massive contraption resembling a primitive siege cannon began glowing with blue energy. The enemy formation stirred.
Then the bells rang—urgent, sharp, deafening.
Soldiers scrambled to the walls. Those resting jumped to their feet, arming themselves with practiced speed.
"More arrows! Stack them here!"
"Spears, we need spears up front!"
"Boil the water—get the cauldrons ready!"
The wall was transforming into a war machine, bristling with weaponry, flames, and resolve.
"It's starting," Leo whispered, heart pounding.
Sword in one hand, shield in the other, he braced for the inevitable.
The massive cannon finally fired—launching a blazing orb of energy into the sky. Soldiers stared, momentarily entranced by the radiant projectile.
Then it struck.
A blinding flash of light, followed by a thunderous roar.
"What the—"
"AAAHH!"
The blast sent men flying. Screams tore through the air. Those caught at the center of the impact were simply gone, erased by the force.
One section of the castle wall had collapsed completely.
"DEFEND THE WALLS! HOLD THE LINE!"
"SHIELD-BEARERS, FORWARD! SPEAR UNITS, TO THE GAP!"
The shouting of captains and colonels struggled to rise above the chaos.
The imbalance in numbers was already dire—if the walls fell, the battle was lost.
Soldiers rushed forward, using debris from the fallen section as makeshift footholds and defensive positions.
Then the cannon charged again.
"Damn it!"
Another brilliant orb launched—and struck.
More walls crumbled. More screams followed.
The forces of Count Dusel charged, having now reached the outer perimeter.
Though the terrain provided a slight incline, the distance wasn't enough to slow their advance.
The battle beneath the walls ignited, but Leo and his squad stayed on top.
"We're not going down there now. It's suicide."
Though a section had fallen, the rest of the wall stood. And the enemy wasn't done—they brought ladders.
"Here they come! Spears, ready!"
Wooden ladders reinforced with iron wire began to appear. Swords wouldn't cut through them easily.
"Start from this side! Don't let them get up!"
Leo's orders were swift, clear.
"Grip your spears tight! If you let even one through, you're dead!"
As enemy soldiers began to climb, Leo struck the first one down with brutal efficiency.
"Ugh!"
He deflected a sword slash and killed the next with a precise thrust.
Another ladder.
Two soldiers climbed fast—Leo blocked one and counterattacked, slashing across the throat of the second before they could recover.
"Hold the line!"
The wall was drenched in blood.
A nearby soldier slipped on it—his mistake cost him everything. A spear from an enemy found his chest.
"John!"
But John was already dead.
Leo didn't falter. He rushed forward, spear in hand, killed the next, and quickly switched to sword and shield again.
A nearby squad leader noticed and sent reinforcements. With better formation and Leo at the front, they finally pushed the invaders back.
"Thanks!"
No time to answer. Just swing again.
Leo was everywhere—piercing with the spear, cutting with the sword, blocking with the shield.
A notification appeared in his vision.
(Skill Proficiency Complete…)
But he didn't have time to celebrate.
More enemies. More deaths. More blood.
He had killed over thirty, yet it felt like they hadn't made a dent.
"Haargh… Haargh…"
They were exhausted.
And then came the worst.
"MONSTERS! THEY'RE MONSTERS!"
The County of Dusel's knights arrived—gleaming in plate armor, cloaked in aura, and blessed with magic.
They moved like shadows through chaos, slicing through shields, splintering weapons, and smashing resistance.
The Friel Army knights arrived too late. The enemy had already breached the walls and spilled into the castle proper.
"This is bad…"
Leo looked down at the inferno forming below.
The wall meant nothing now. They were surrounded.
He needed to regroup with the main force—fast.
Another cannon blast tore through the air. Another hole. More enemies swarmed.
"RETREAT TO THE INNER KEEP!"
The captains and knights echoed the same decision.
They hurled boiling water, stones, even corpses, before falling back to the inner defenses.
As chaos engulfed the outer keep, fires began to spread. The enemy was looting, pillaging. But inside the inner keep, hope hadn't yet died.
They weren't fighting for victory anymore.
They fought for pride, for vengeance, and because there was no future if they lost.
The gates of the inner keep shook under the pounding of siege weapons.
Wails rose.
Knights lined up at the walls.
Meanwhile, Leo, finally inside, opened his status window.
His swordsmanship skill had reached maximum proficiency.
The reward?
A feather—and a new passive effect:
Low-Rank Mercenary's Proficient Swordsmanship (SN) – 100%
When wielding sword and shield simultaneously:
– All Resistances +10%
– All Attacks +10% Power
A solid upgrade. The boost was noticeable, but limited to his favored style.
"Good," he muttered.
Then he opened the skill synthesis screen.
"Use all the feathers."
The battle wasn't over.
But if he was going to survive what came next—he needed to evolve.