"With your excellent scores in the cultural classes, you shouldn't be sent overseas," Winters persisted, still harboring a sliver of hope that Bard would stay in the homeland.
"I applied for an overseas dispatch myself," Bard said calmly, delivering a sentence that shocked Winters.
"What!" Winters stood up startled, looking down at Bard, not understanding why he would choose to walk into the jaws of death, and all the words in his heart culminated into one: "Why?"
"It's okay, being sent overseas isn't as bad as you think," Bard, pulling Winters by his clothes to sit him down, said, "Sit down, and let me explain it to you slowly."
"You know the situation of my family," Bard began, speaking unhurriedly from the perspective of his family background.
"Yes," Winters nodded, aware that this was a sensitive topic. He knew that both of Bard's parents were tenant farmers at the Monastery.
"My parents are tenant farmers, and they are both hardworking and devout people, I am proud of them," Bard said, his tone soft yet solemn.
"I know," Winters nodded again, believing that a person's worth shouldn't be judged by the volume of their wealth.
"So, while others were going around giving gifts and pleading for favors, I didn't. Not because I didn't want to but because I didn't have the money to grease the wheels and make connections," Bard stated his reality with a calm that bordered on cruelty.
In his tone, there was no resentment, "Not having money isn't my parents' fault; giving gifts with money isn't others' fault either. That's the reality of this world—I may not be satisfied, but I can only accept it. So, my going overseas was an inevitable outcome."
"But even if you can't stay in The Federated Provinces, you could still have a good chance of going to an affiliated country. Assignments don't just depend on money!" Winters still couldn't accept that Bard had abandoned hope and applied for overseas dispatch on his own.
"I'm not so outstanding that I can ignore the influence of money, nor am I a Spellcaster," Bard continued to reveal his wounds, "In fact, even those who have spent money to work the system have many who are still assigned overseas. What about me? There always has to be a group sent overseas."
"But you can't give up hope! There's always a chance; you can't just resign yourself to fate!" Winters couldn't deny Bard's harsh truth but believed there was still a chance and one should not give up.
"I'm not resigning myself to fate, I am actually fighting against it. Ever since I walked out of the Monastery, I've been battling fate, and this time I don't want to wait for others to decide my fate," Bard said decisively, "I don't have the freedom not to go overseas, I accept that. But at the very least, I want to have the freedom to choose where overseas."
"After all, there are various destinations for overseas dispatch," Bard added with a faint smile, returning to his measured pace, "If I cling to a slim hope, in the end, I would only be sent to the worst place overseas. By actively applying to go, at least I still have a choice."
Under the faint light of the moon and the Ignition Spell in his pipe, Bard's expression was calm and resolute. Winters knew Bard had his reasons for applying for overseas dispatch, but he now felt those reasons were too cruel.
Yet Winters had to admit that Bard was right; his decision was the best solution in the worst situation. But his chest felt tight, filled with frustration, suffocation, and a sense of powerlessness.
Winters collapsed onto the stone table, the multitude of words that had reached his lips swallowed back down. Was there any point in cursing those officers who accepted bribes? Was it useful to berate those classmates who gave gifts and pleaded? In the end, Bard was still going overseas, and Winters could only let out a long, powerless sigh.
"Don't feel sorry for me. Being able to go from a servant at the Monastery to a cadet at the Military Academy, I'm already more than satisfied," Bard described his future life as an overseas military officer with an upbeat and pleasant tone, "Going overseas is a good thing. I've heard that the salary for overseas dispatch is three times what it is at home. Staying here, I can't even afford a uniform, but overseas, I reckon I'll quickly save up a bit of money to help my parents redeem their land."
"Damn it!" Winters yelled into the night sky, waking several guard dogs in the nearby houses. Bard's optimism only made him feel sadder. It was true that overseas dispatch-paid well, but it was money earned in exchange for risking one's life.
Bard patted Winters on the leg, signaling that he understood everything, and the two fell back into silence. The only sounds were the chirping of insects, the barking of dogs, and the sputtering of Bard's smoking.
After a little while, footsteps suddenly approached from nearby, and a teasing voice reached the ears of Winters and Bard. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novel⦿fire.net
"Well, look at you two, hiding here and smoking instead of patrolling the night watch. Were you the ones howling just now?"
Out of the darkness, two students wielding long halberds emerged, one after the other, the one in front muttering as he walked, "Why the hell were you two howling in the dead of night? Come on, give me a light..."
They were two second-year students on night duty at another gate, who had heard Winters' earlier shout during their patrol and came over to see what was going on, hoping to get a light for their smokes.
When they got up close to Winters and Bard, they noticed the three stripes on the sleeve of Bard's summer uniform and realized the two men hiding here smoking were their seniors.
The military academy's structure is a mimicry of the army's structure, and the army's hierarchy is also the academy's. Realizing they had run into their seniors, the two second-year students quickly apologized, "Sorry, squad leader. We didn't know you were on patrol."
Winters was in a bad mood and could not be bothered with them.
But Bard, ever generous, waved them over. He didn't give them a dressing down, and even tried to help them light their smokes. However, Bard's cigarette was almost finished, and he couldn't get the tobacco in their pipes to catch.
With a long sigh, Winters reluctantly took the pipes from Bard's hands and used the Ignition Spell to light the shredded tobacco inside their bowls. He was adept at this, but the two juniors had probably never in their lives had a Spellcaster use magic to light their cigarettes for them, and their eyes were wide with amazement.
"Let's go," Winters said irritably as he shoved the pipes back into the hands of the juniors. Thankful, they scampered away hastily.
The two of them were also wondering what had gotten into the two third-year squad leaders, not resting in the duty room and instead wandering about on patrol.
After the juniors had left, Bard also stood up and straightened his clothes. Feeling he had rested enough, he said to Winters, "Let's go, we should make a few more rounds, so the juniors won't laugh at us for doing nothing but skiving off."
Winters lay on the stone table, legs dangling idly in the air. He was in no mood for patrolling, so he said to Bard, "Let's sit for a while longer, and then head back to the duty room to sleep. It's our last night, no more patrols."
"You rest here for a while longer," Bard said, knowing better than to press Winters. He wanted to have one last look at the school, "Last duty shift, won't get another chance to come back to the academy for night watch. I'll take another few rounds and come back for you later."
With that, Bard, carrying his long halberd, walked away. Bard's footsteps grew more distant, and Winters said nothing. He was deeply affected because Bard would soon be dispatched overseas. He was now coming to grips with the possibility that he might never again see his good friend Bard after tomorrow.
He lay back on the stone table, listening to the sounds of the insects around him, his mind feeling empty.
After a while, the sound of footsteps returned. Hearing Bard had come back, Winters felt it pointless to lie there, thinking he might as well join Bard for another couple of rounds around the academy.
So he straightened up and sat on the stone table, smiling and about to speak to Bard... Wait! The person approaching wasn't Bard!