First step as a forest guard (2)

Captain of the Guard’s Office.

I stepped in, closing the door behind me. The room was far from luxurious—functional would be the best way to describe it. A desk, two cabinets, and a chair. The first cabinet caught my attention.

Inside, I found a meticulously crafted green uniform embroidered with elegant patterns signifying leadership. Beside it lay a sturdy iron sword, its hilt adorned with geometric carvings, and along the blade was an engraving: “Sons of Hindley: Makers of Miracles.”

“Sons of Hindley...” I whispered, a faint bell ringing in the recesses of my memory. Hindley wasn’t a mere name—it was the title of a powerful family with substantial influence in the empire.

I picked up the sword, testing its balance with a few practice swings.

“Light!” A grin stretched across my face. It was a beautiful weapon, perfectly crafted.

Valvaro’s memories flooded in. He had entrusted this sword to me—to us. It seemed even my reincarnation couldn’t entirely sever that bond.

Knock, knock.

“Captain Ironclad, we’re waiting for you by the storage.” A familiar voice came from behind the door.

“Prepare yourselves—I’m coming,” I replied. Terry Carter. Valvaro’s second-in-command. His voice matched perfectly with the mental image I had of him—a man Valvaro trusted implicitly.

Satisfied that the office held no hidden surprises, I donned the uniform, secured the sword at my side, and headed to the storage area.

---

The storage was bustling. Three large carriages waited near an iron gate, each holding six guards—eighteen in total.

“Late as always, Valvaro!” one of the guards teased with a grin.

Hart. Bold and sharp-tongued, yet undeniably one of the squad’s strongest members. His loyalty to the mission outweighed any respect for authority.

“Show some respect for the captain!” someone muttered in his direction.

Terry intervened with a sharp retort, silencing the murmurs. “You can be late too, Hart, if you think you can handle it better.”

“Enough,” I said with a raised hand, climbing onto the lead carriage. “We’ve got a mission to focus on today, team. Reports of unusual magical beast activity have come in. Let’s investigate.”

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“Understood!” their voices rang in unison.

---

The carriages set off, winding through Pieck’s outskirts. Fields gave way to wilder terrain, where scattered trees and tall grass flourished. Watchtowers lined the perimeter, silent sentinels guarding the city.

After several minutes, we arrived at the edge of a dense, sprawling forest. Towering trees formed an impenetrable wall of greenery—the Northern Forest.

The carriages stopped, and we disembarked, preparing to move on foot.

I drew my sword, its weight familiar in my hand.

“Here I come, magical beasts,” I whispered, stepping into the unknown.

.....

Heavy Footsteps

Our feet pressed against the dusty ground as we ventured deep into the forest. The dense trees formed a natural barrier, limiting visibility. Yet, the path ahead was clear, having been worn down by the patrols over the months. It resembled a rural dirt road, scattered with broken branches and stray rocks.

The patrol group was dispersed into smaller units. While I stayed at the forefront with Terry Carter, the distance between us and the two guards behind stretched over three meters—a seemingly deliberate strategy.

The daily routine of the forest guards was straightforward: search for any dangerous magical beasts and eliminate them. The Biek forests had not been abundant with beasts, even before the war, which explained the near absence of guards. The entire outpost housed no more than fifty personnel working in shifts, many of whom didn’t even possess magical abilities.

Magical beasts, as the name implies, are creatures imbued with magical power. They are categorized into three types: pure, tainted, and hybrid.

Pure magical beasts are born with their magic, making them the strongest of the three. These creatures belong to distinct races, passing down their magical abilities through generations. They live in organized societies and territories, with some possessing intelligence high enough to threaten humans.

The second type is the tainted beasts—ordinary wild animals that have been exposed to external magical energy, either from other beasts or humans. These are the weakest due to their inability to wield their powers effectively. However, they are equally dangerous for the same reason: they unknowingly spread their magical contamination, polluting their surroundings. Such creatures are typically killed or imprisoned until purified.

The rarest type is the hybrids—beasts that do not occur naturally. These creatures are formed through deliberate magical intervention, with one common cause being the reckless use of transformation magic, where the transformed individual loses the ability to return to their human form. Fortunately, transformation magic is high-level and inaccessible to most. Thus, you won’t find hybrids in Biek or other small towns.

There’s also a fourth type, the tame beasts. These creatures pose no threat and are domesticated by humans for public utility, such as hunting dogs, swift horses, or playful cats and rabbits. This type can fall under any of the three main categories.

Our patrol's current objective was simple: locate and deal with tainted beasts.

The atmosphere was eerily quiet, as if the forest were devoid of life. It reminded me of a horror movie I’d seen as a child—when the protagonist moved silently, only to be ambushed by a strange entity from nowhere. I imagined such a scenario playing out before me.

“Captain...”

I turned to Terry, who had stepped closer to walk beside me. Valvaro’s memories had painted many scenes involving this man, yet his face seemed unfamiliar.

Terry had been a cheerful, lively man, lightening the mood of any group he was part of. Now, however, he was cold and grim, his face devoid of its usual creases.

“What is it, Terry?”

He stared into the distance before speaking.

“Are... are your wife and daughter doing well?”

‘Huh?’ My eyebrows raised slightly.

“They’re fine, in great health. Thank you for asking,” I replied sincerely. As long as I had seen their smiles this morning, everything was fine.

“Thank God...” Terry murmured, his head lowering as a faint smile flickered on his lips.

His behavior set my mind racing. Had something happened to him recently?

Suddenly, I recalled Syler’s words—something about strange energy. He had mentioned a name that now resurfaced in my mind.

‘Melissa Carter.’

She had died the night I arrived in this world. I thought about it briefly—no doubt her death was linked to Terry’s current state. I asked him spontaneously.

“Terry, are you related to someone named Melissa Carter?”

His eyes widened slightly, his voice carrying a note of pain as he responded, “She was my sister.”

‘That explains it.’

No wonder he had been so solemn lately. His inquiry about Martha and Jila’s wellbeing wasn’t just out of politeness; it reflected genuine concern as a friend.

“I’m sorry for your loss. My condolences.”

“You... you know?”

“Syler mentioned her passing during a conversation yesterday,” I replied honestly. Terry seemed lost in thought for a moment before forcing a faint smile.

“She was a wonderful sister,” he said, a tear escaping the corner of his eye as he added, “She was all I had.”

“Don’t worry, man. We won’t let her death be in vain. I promise you that.”

I patted his shoulder gently. Just then, a distant voice called out.

“Hey, guys! Come over and take a look!”

‘A discovery?’