Logistics Unit’s Simple Heavy Labor
Through some kind of trick, the Kingdom of Harpelia seemed to have detected the Holy Kingdom of Sunglaire’s invasion quite early. There’s a high possibility they had spies infiltrated.
Thanks to that, a considerable amount of military supplies had already been accumulated at the transit point of Basin.
Bows and arrows, throwing spears, swords, armor… There might be variations in the years they were made, but they were properly organized by specifications.
They must have gradually stockpiled them in secret so Sunglaire wouldn’t notice.
Our job was to load this huge cargo onto wagons in a great hurry and prepare to send them to the battlefield.
If we made soldiers carry all kinds of supplies themselves, they’d be exhausted before they could fight. We rear support units had to shoulder as much pre-battle fatigue as possible.
Most importantly, supporting what seemed to be a prolonged battle was also crucial.
“Ughhh…! H-heavy…!”
“How many more of these do we have to carry…?!”
“Come on, hang in there, about 30 more to go.”
“30! That’s doable…!”
“I mean 30 wagons.”
“Gyaaahhh!”
“Clint! H-hang in there! I’ll do my best too!”
The already damn heavy cargo was stuffed into unnecessarily heavy wooden boxes, making them ridiculously heavy. The uniform box specifications made loading stress-free, but for young people whose body enhancement was still weak, it was hard labor.
“Don’t carry with a hunched back, keep your spine straight. And keep the cargo close to your body.”
“M-Mongrel-san, how do you carry those so easily without getting tired…!”
“Even though you’re an old man…!”
“Experienced old men in life are used to carrying heavy loads. Here, it feels lighter if you put the heavy part on top.”
“Eh? Ah, really. A little easier… just a tiny bit though…!”
Basin was a town in a basin that brought together farming villages. It was characterized by having many large warehouses to ship agricultural products produced in surrounding villages throughout Harpelia.
The townspeople, due to the war being their first in a long time, were helping with the loading work regardless of age or gender. Bronze-level greenhorn guildsmen still couldn’t beat townspeople accustomed to labor.
“Food’s ready! Soldiers, guildsmen too! If you’re hungry, come eat here!”
“Return the dishes over here!”
Right near the work site, soup and porridge were being made in large pots to reward the workers.
It was like a free soup kitchen. Since it was wartime, the townspeople were being generous.
“Alright, Mongrel squad will resume work after eating, we’ll go until night!”
“You’re kidding!”
“We’re still doing more…?”
“Don’t worry, after that’s done, it’s sleep time. After sleeping a bit, tomorrow morning we’ll shoulder knapsacks stuffed with cargo and escort wagons to Bradley, where we’ll do more work.”
“Damn it! What kind of role is this!”
“I became Bronze for this kind of work?! I’m a swordsman!”
The world doesn’t recognize Bronze-level rookies as proper swordsmen. It’s sad.
But if Harpelia really gets into trouble, Bronze-level guys like us, and even Iron ranks might get dragged to the battlefield. Well, be prepared for that possibility.
The logistics unit, despite being called a unit, was a series of mundane tasks.
You couldn’t hear the sounds of battle, so there wasn’t much sense of urgency.
Still, thanks to the supervising soldier who yelled to rush the loading work, the rookies managed to avoid doing sloppy work.
I’m not the type who can do the yelling myself, so it was a bit helpful. Neither yelling nor being yelled at is particularly good, but during war, if you don’t feel stress, you might become sluggish and regret it later…
The day changed and the next day, though some members of our squad suffered from muscle pain, everyone was present without a single desertion. Good, good. Guildsmen sometimes abandon their posts at weird timings without thinking ahead. My squad was all serious people, which was helpful.
“Alright, we’re departing for Bradley. Got your luggage?”
“W-we have to walk carrying all this?”
“I can’t even swing my sword like this!”
“True, it’s definitely heavy as is. If monsters appear on the road by any chance, we’ll drop our knapsacks and engage in combat. Now, we have something we must protect first in such situations… Clint, do you know what that is?”
“Eh, well, we’re supply troops, so… the cargo!”
“Bzzt, the correct answer is horses~. If the wagon becomes immobile on the road, it’ll just interfere with subsequent supply deliveries, so protect the horses and wheels.”
“Ah, I see…”
“What’s with the ‘bzzt,’ you sound like a pig.”
All five Bronze rookies from Basin were swordsmen.
Three were equipped with shields and short swords, the other two could handle some enhancement so they had long swords. If monsters appeared, I wanted to put the shield-bearers in front and have the long sword wielders attack from the outside.
All the guys who could fight properly were pulled to the front lines, leaving the rear support sparse and exhausted for escort duties.
Just transporting supplies… might sound simple, but completing it thoroughly and without delays is actually tough. Really.
Carrying heavy loads, walking in formation to protect the wagons.
The straps cutting into shoulders, legs that made you feel fatigue with every step.
Released from the monotonous yet strenuous loading work, when what seemed like a proper mission finally began, what started anew was even more grueling labor.
“Heavy… exhausting…”
“I underestimated this job…”
“Mongrel-san, is there any… technique to suppress fatigue that we could use right now?”
“Hmm, nope!”
“Gweh.”
“It’s all about willpower at this point.”
I can somewhat understand the feelings of guys who hate this job and want to rise to Silver. Fighting on the front lines makes you a hero if you achieve results, and it’s relatively easy until you actually fight. The problem is that there’s a real danger of dying normally…
But this is still the easy part. From Basin to Bradley, even though it’s a country road, there’s a proper highway.
The roads from Bradley to each base and fortress are more rough, so it’ll definitely be tougher than this.
If you think the current suffering is the peak, you’ll cry later, hehehe.
“Whoa! Something broke in the wagon!”
“Can’t be helped, let’s keep going…”
“The soldiers are going to be angry.”
Screams frequently came from the wagons behind us.
Due to forced loading and inexperienced loading work, breakage during transport often occurred depending on the item.
Even truck transport in my previous life had occasional damage troubles. Shitty rough roads, shitty leaf spring suspension, shitty dried grass cushioning material. If we could transport everything perfectly with this setup, that would be scary instead.
That said, the military had factored in such losses to some degree.
All we could do was try to minimize that damage.
Jobs with point deduction systems don’t really motivate you—I can understand that.
“Good work, guildsmen! Our soldiers will handle the unloading, so you all should rest!”
Baron Bradley’s territory was frontier land adjacent to the Twice Plains.
In this war, it was the final defensive line where the Harpelia Kingdom’s army established their base.
Sunglaire wanted this land, but Harpelia absolutely couldn’t let them take it.
For the townspeople living in Bradley, it was literally not someone else’s problem, so the tense atmosphere was much stronger than in Basin.
When we arrived in Bradley, we were welcomed by soldiers, and apparently we could rest for today. The rookies’ stamina was at its limit too, so it couldn’t be helped.
“Hmm? You there… you have mixed gray hair. What’s your name?”
“It’s Mongrel. You are, um… how should I address you?”
“I’m Claude, retainer to Knight Libert-sama. Are you Harpelian?”
“Nice to meet you, Claude-san. Born and raised in Harpelia. My mother was Sunglaire.”
“I see. Don’t cause any trouble in Bradley.”
“Yes sir!”
Even I can’t fool around in front of soldiers. Basically, conscripted lower-rank guildsmen are bottom of the bottom.
If it had been someone with a bad personality, I would have been bullied more, but this person seemed decent, which was good.
“…Mongrel-san. Didn’t that soldier seem a bit unfriendly just now?”
“Warren, that person was worried about me. He was telling me to be careful because other guys might mess with me.”
“Did he say that…?”
“He did. Come on, Mongrel squad, let’s go to our designated lodging. After we eat, we’re going straight to sleep today too.”
“Yes sir~”
“Finally a break!”
“Let’s eat! I’m so hungry I could die!”
After placing their luggage at the campsite, they each scattered toward their respective destinations.
They were complaining about being too tired to move even a single step near the end, but suddenly they got all energetic.
Well, if they have that kind of energy, they should be fine from tomorrow on. We might be able to complete our mission without any dropouts.
……I wonder if the front lines have clashed by now?
Somewhere, fighting has probably already started…… but unlike from a god’s perspective, I can’t see anything from where I am.
Even if information were to reach the rear, I doubt the correct situation would be conveyed all the way down to a bottom-feeder like me.
……It’s unsettling to work without knowing what’s happening with our own forces.
Well, even if I were at the front lines, I probably wouldn’t understand the overall battle situation unless I was near some important officer.
“There’s a guy with gray mixed in his hair.”
“Is that Sunglaire person trying to eat our food?”
“Heh heh heh.”
When I lined up just to get some porridge, I heard the voices of some rough-looking guildsmen.
A trio in their twenties. Their identification tags showed Bronze 3.
These kinds of guys appear everywhere during peacetime, but they especially crawl out during wartime like now. I wasn’t surprised since I figured they’d definitely pick some kind of fight with me. In fact, I was more surprised that nothing happened yesterday.
Normally I’d beat the crap out of them with some good old turn-based punching, but the timing is bad right now. If a Sunglaire half-breed started a brawl, the people around might seriously try to stop me.
So against my preferences, I’ll handle this differently.
“I’m a legitimate Harpelian who was given orders by Claude-san, the squire of Knight Libert-sama. Are you saying you have complaints about me? That would mean you three have rebellious intentions toward Claude-san who gave me those orders…… and by extension, toward Libert-sama himself, wouldn’t it?”
Ultimate move: authority.
“Eh, no……”
“We didn’t say anything like that……”
“H-hey you guys, let’s go over there. They’re doing a soup kitchen……”
The trio hurriedly left. Heh, weaklings.
Knight and squire. The weight of those words isn’t just for show. Especially knights are like people in the clouds for guildsmen.
Even half-breeds remember this kind of obvious power structure. Just hint at a connection and they’re done for.
To avoid trouble, I’ll put on a tiger’s skin and dance like a lion with everything I’ve got.
“Hey Mongrel-san! I brought some bread for you too!”
“I got some stir-fried meat and vegetables too! Just a little though……”
After chasing away the pests, the rookies came back after a while.
It seems they each brought food from the soup kitchen in their own small pots.
“Oh, seriously? Well done. Team Mongrel…… is the best!”
“I don’t like that name.”
“Give us a cooler name.”
“If an enemy army attacks us, we’d get taken out immediately, wouldn’t we?”
“It’s cool though……!”
“Lame!”
“If you’re going to call us Team Mongrel, we’d rather stick with being called by numbers!”
Damn, my team members are starting to show ambition.
The day of team dissolution is near…….
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