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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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Following Eva the Centaur, we arrived at the campsite where the regular soldiers were staying.
Unlike the noble officers of the kingdom’s army, who always brought personal chefs to the battlefield, it seemed even officers in the Demon Lord’s army ate the same food as the regular soldiers.
The line for food distribution was a mix of various races.
From stereotypical demons with horns on their heads, to beastkin and demi-humans better suited for this frigid environment, imps in the form of young boys, and diminutive halflings, all patiently awaited their turn.
While humans in the kingdom conveniently lumped all non-human races, excluding elves and dwarves, together as “demons,” there was actually a surprising amount of diversity among them.
“Let’s join the line.”
We followed Eva to the end of the long queue.
The soldiers, recognizing her, greeted her warmly.
“Hello, Eva.”
“The line is quite long. Would you like to cut in front of me?”
“How about we grab a drink together sometime? I know a good place.”
Perhaps due to her approachable nature, the soldiers treated Eva with familiarity, despite her being an officer.
This was quite unfamiliar to me. Weren’t soldiers and officers programmed to dislike each other from birth?
Having served in the army twice, this contradicted my common sense.
Eva, chatting with the soldiers, suddenly seemed to remember our presence and introduced us to those nearby.
“This is Patrasche, dispatched from the Demon Lord’s castle. He’s a Lich, capable of using Penta Spells.”
The soldiers gasped in admiration.
“Ooh! Now we can finally crack some skulls!”
“Those damn mole bastards are done for!”
Camilla, the only one among us unfamiliar with warfare, tilted her head curiously.
“What do you mean by ‘crack some skulls’?”
I shrugged and explained.
“It’s military slang. It means destroying enemy trenches with a single spell.”
One might wonder about the usefulness of trenches in a world without firearms, but they were surprisingly effective.
Here, mages filled the role of artillery.
In a world still dominated by melee weapons, trenches were the best defense against a rain of fire and magic. This naturally led to the development of trench warfare.
The typical tactic was to exchange spells and arrows until one side saw an opening, then charge with swords and spears.
Centuries ago, during the Age of Romance, knights and mages engaged in duels, and the victor claimed all the glory. How times had changed.
Camilla still looked confused, but such things were best understood through experience, so I decided to drop the subject.
As we chatted idly, waiting for our turn, we finally reached the front of the line.
“Enjoy your meal!”
A demon soldier ladled a generous helping of vegetable stew into my tray.
The indistinct aroma of mass-produced food triggered unpleasant memories.
He added two steamed potatoes, which were half-frozen due to the cold. They didn’t look particularly appetizing.
“Let’s go to my tent.”
We followed Eva to her tent.
Perhaps custom-made for a Centaur, the entrance to Eva’s tent was larger than the others.
Inside, a tall table awaited us.
“Here are some chairs.”
She brought two chairs from the corner of the tent and offered them to us.
She usually ate standing up, like a horse.
We sat around the round table, and Eva, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, began to explain the dinner menu.
She swished her glossy tail excitedly.
“We’re in luck today. Fresh vegetables are hard to come by in this cold climate. We received a supply shipment from the rear just a few days ago, so we can enjoy such luxuries.”
I was almost moved to tears by her positive attitude in such a harsh environment.
People who could find joy in small things were precious.
“Thank you for the meal,” she muttered, and then Eva was the first to dig into the carrot-filled stew.
“Ahh…”
A sigh of contentment escaped her lips.
Centaurs seemed to have a fondness for carrots.
As I was about to remove my mask to eat, Eva spoke.
“You said you were a Lich, Master Patrasche. But you took a portion of food?”
“Oh.”
Right. That was my cover story.
I had forgotten that undead didn’t eat.
“Um, well…”
Even if I managed to come up with a convincing excuse, removing my mask in front of Eva, Dorothea’s adjutant, would likely lead to my true identity being revealed to Dorothea.
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly.
“Everyone else was getting food, so I felt like I should too…”
Eva, happily spooning stew into her mouth, nodded in agreement.
“Ah, I know that feeling! If everyone else is getting something, you feel like you should too!”
…What should I do?
I couldn’t reveal that I was Kaldrash, the Archmage who had repeatedly clashed with their commander-in-chief.
If Dorothea found out, things would get complicated.
After some thought, I offered my untouched stew to Eva.
I gave the two steamed potatoes to Camilla.
Goodbye, my precious dinner.
I inwardly shed tears of blood but maintained a calm facade.
“I can’t eat this, so please, have it, Eva.”
Eva, surprised, looked at me with her spoon halfway to her mouth.
“Are you sure?”
“It’s better for someone to eat it than for it to go to waste, don’t you think?”
As an officer beloved by her soldiers, she was certainly worthy of my dinner.
“Master Patrasche…!”
Eva stared at me with an expression of profound gratitude.
I felt awkward at her exaggerated reaction to a simple bowl of stew.
As I flustered behind my mask, Eva suddenly grabbed my hands.
“I won’t forget this kindness! If there’s anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask!”
“Ah, alright.”
Flustered by her intensity, I inadvertently responded in my normal voice, but Eva, caught up in her excitement, didn’t seem to notice.
I subtly signaled to Camilla, who was picking at her stew with a look of disinterest.
Understanding my intent, she discreetly pocketed the potatoes I had given her.
We would eat them later, in the privacy of our tent.
With our little scheme successfully executed, we waited for Eva to finish her meal.
“Ahh… I always feel a bit unsatisfied with the standard rations. It’s so nice to be able to eat as much as I want!”
She tried to savor each bite, but it seemed too tempting to resist.
After finishing her own portion, she picked up the bowl of stew I had given her and, holding it with both hands, gulped it down like a hearty soup.
“Ahh…” she sighed contentedly, placing the empty bowl on the table.
“Thank you for the meal!”
It was a hearty and satisfying display of appetite.
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The next day, after enjoying dinner and bonding with Eva, I was surprised by an unexpectedly early summons from Dorothea.
What is it? What’s going on?
I couldn’t think of anything I had done wrong. There hadn’t been any major incidents, and last night had been peaceful.
Surely I hadn’t been caught roasting the two potatoes I had snuck back to the tent over the fire pit by a passing soldier.
As I entered Dorothea’s tent, filled with these random thoughts, Dorothea, unlike yesterday, was fully dressed, leaning against her pet Cerberus, Toto.
She greeted me with a wicked grin, characteristic of someone with a mischievous personality.
“I apologize for changing my mind so soon, but something urgent has come up.”
“…What is it?”
Dorothea pointed at Eva, her adjutant, who was standing in the corner of the tent.
“Patrasche, mount Eva.”
It was an unexpected order.
But soldiers didn’t have the option of refusing orders.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
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