The feast was a chaotic explosion of sound and smell. Men were dancing in the mud, fueled by cheap ale and the sheer adrenaline of not being corpses. Huge fire pits roared, casting flickering orange shadows over piles of roasted meat and overflowing mugs of beer. The raucous laughter of men who had survived a massacre that should have happened echoed off the canyon walls.
Reine sat on a weathered log, away from the dancing. He leaned back, his eyes locked on the moon. It was beautiful, cold, and indifferent. He wasn't celebrating; he was calculating.
Five hours, he thought, his fingers digging into his thighs. Five hours since the moment he should have died. No Snap. No dissonant chime. Just the heavy, oppressive silence of a future he hadn't written yet.
What if I accidentally slip on the campfire right now? The thought was a dark itch in his brain. Will I have to go against that knight again? What if I broke the loop cycle and now the next time I die, I never regress? Or what if after surviving the knight, the loop continues and just stops at the next obstacle? Ugh, I'm overthinking again. Wai—
"Sir, you're doing that thing again," Argol said, coming to sit beside him. "Sir, I have been wondering about this one question."
"Yea, go ahead," Reine replied, his voice a jagged rasp.
"What's your goal, sir?" Argol asked, his voice low so the other soldiers couldn't hear. "I'm sorry if I am coming off rude, but after seeing your face after the knight retreated... it looked like the face of a man who finally conquered something. Almost as if you have already lost to the knight bu—"
"My sister," Reine replied.
Argol blinked, tilting his head. "Sorry sir, I didn't understan—"
"My sister was sold as a slave to the nobles," Reine interrupted, his tone turning ice-cold. "I have to bring her back."
"But why do you need to join the army to bring her back though?"
"Power," Reine said, finally turning to look at Argol. His eyes were hollow, reflecting the campfire like two burning coals. "I need power. They are high nobles; they won't even listen to me if I don't have the power. I need to climb the ranks, become so powerful that they tremble at my presence."
Argol swallowed hard, his eyes wide. "So your goal is to be stro—"
"No," Reine cut him off, his voice rising with a sudden, sharp motivation. "It's to become the strongest... conquer the world!!"
Argol jumped, his face turning red. "Sir, by due respect... CAN YOU STOP INTERRUPTING ME!!"
The sudden shout caused the soldiers nearby to stop their laughing. A dozen heads turned toward them, confused by the sudden outburst from the two recruits. Argol's face went from white to bright red in a second. He cleared his throat, looking at the dirt in embarrassment.
Reine didn't yell back. He just leaned forward, taking a slow, menacing bite of his meat while staring Argol down.
"Soldier," Reine mumbled through the meat, "you have gotten quite comfortable with me, haven't you?"
"Si-sir... I am sorry!! I didn't mean it! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! PLEASEEEE!!" Argol's bravado shattered. He began to plead, actual tears springing to his eyes as he imagined what a "Vortex" user would do to him for shouting.
The soldiers nearby just shook their heads. "Look at those two idiots," one veteran muttered. "The white-haired one is a bully and the other one is a crybaby. How did they survive?"
Argol stopped crying mid-sob, seeing that Reine wasn't actually moving to strike him. He wiped his face, his eyes lighting up with a different kind of energy. "So, sir... you want to conquer the world, don't you? Then you've got me. I know all about this world. Everything. Ask me actually—wait right here, sir!"
Argol scrambled to his feet, fueled by a frantic excitement, and ran off toward the tents to grab his gear. Reine sat back, watching him go, before taking another bite of the mea