Volume 1 Chapter 26 Linto, Day Three
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I finally managed to wrest control back from the Parasite Host, but a chunk of my memory remained locked away, hidden behind a fog I couldn’t pierce. It was a hell of a lot of stress-not knowing exactly what that thing had been doing with my body while I was “out.”
Bours-san and Edmond-san came by to visit, which finally gave me a handle on the situation. Edmond-san was practically beaming as he told the story. Apparently, Linto had been hit by a Kiridal surprise attack at the crack of dawn. With the chain of command in total shambles, Bours-san had stepped up, rallied the troops, and even taken charge of the cavalry. He’d managed to hit the enemy from the south gate just as they were raiding the east, successfully driving them back.
According to them, I had somehow ended up skewering a falling mercenary with a spear. That kill had pissed off some “gorilla-woman” who retaliated by caving my head in with a mace. Between the impact and the massive blood loss, I’d been dragged back here to the ward.
(So, this body has finally killed someone…)
I’d known that day would come eventually-it’s a battlefield, after all-but there was a strange, hollow sense of relief knowing the Parasite Host had been the one to do the dirty work first. “The doc said if tomorrow morning’s check-up looks good, you’re back on the roster,” they told me before heading out.
The next morning, the “examination”-which was really more like a brutal session of magical surgery-started before breakfast. The lineup included that tiny Elf from yesterday, her assistant (the girl in the apron), and a Medic acting as a gear-carrier. They started at the far end of the row, surrounding the bed of a man who had been crying while saluting Bours-san the day before.
”I’m going to examine you now,” the Elf said. Clad in a white hooded cloak over a lab coat, she peeled back the man’s blanket and laid a hand on his left leg, which was currently lashed to a crude wooden splint. “I see. This is going to be a bit of a pain.”
She seemed to diagnose the break with just a touch, her hand moving immediately to the right leg. “This one? Simple enough. Anything else?” The man, looking absolutely petrified, just pointed at his chest. “Fine, might as well do it all in one go,” she muttered. She diagnosed a few cracked ribs in seconds. “Alright, get him ready.”
What happened next was hard to watch. The girl in the apron shoved a rolled-up hand towel into the man’s mouth as a gag and started tying his wrists to the bedposts in a forced “banzai” stretch. The Medic stripped the man’s pants, slid a cold bedpan under his hips, and used heavy rope to lash his ankles to the bottom of the frame. Once the girl draped a small cloth over his lap for “modesty,” the Elf rolled up her sleeves.
”Here we go.”
The Elf fell silent, placing one hand on the man’s calf and the other on his shin. Suddenly, a muffled, agonizing scream tore through the gag. The man’s entire body spasms, a sickening, wet grinding sound echoing from his bones.
”Hold him down!” the Elf snapped.
The soldier threw his weight onto the man to pin him. For five minutes, the room was filled with the sound of low, guttural groans. I watched, stunned, while others in the ward buried their heads under their blankets or just walked out to escape the sight.
”Almost there. Can you handle a bit more?” The Elf wiped sweat from her brow with her sleeve, peering down at the man’s face. “Oh? He’s out cold. Well, he’s still breathing, so let’s just finish this up while he’s under.”
She went back to work. I’d only ever seen “Heal” used for flesh wounds-or rather, the Parasite Host had. But this was bone-setting. She sandwiched the area below his knee between her hands. There was no visible mana like you see with surface wounds; it was like she was pouring energy directly into the marrow, keeping that white, smoke-like essence from leaking out.
Midway through, the man jolted awake and started thrashing again. A foul stench suddenly hit the air, followed by a wet splat in the pan. The poor guy had literally been disemboweled by the pain. So that’s why they needed the bedpan.
”Right, right leg is finished.”
The left leg went faster, and the ribs were done in a heartbeat. The man had fainted a second time, but the Elf just checked his pulse. “Clean him up,” she told her assistants, before knocking back a small vial of liquid in one go.
”Next. The boy.”
She stood over my bed. As Nikole untied the previous victim, the soldier hauled the soiled bedpan away. I felt a cold spike of dread. (What are they going to do to me?)
”Sit up for me. Lean your head forward and turn this way.”
I did as she asked, though my heart was hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears. I told myself I couldn’t run and she probably wasn’t going to kill me. I braced my hands and bowed my head.
”Nikole, this is actually pretty good work,” the Elf remarked, carefully unwrapping the bandages.
”Thank you, Ma’am!” Nikole, the girl in the apron, stepped up beside her. So she was the one who did the initial stitches?
”Now then,” the Elf said with a smirk. “Let’s see what kind of ‘treat’ we have here.”
(Treat? What is that supposed to mean?) Before I could process it, my hands were seized. I instinctively locked my muscles, expecting to be tied down, but instead of rope, I felt a foreign consciousness slam into mine. Then, a hand touched my forehead, and a second presence forced its way in.
(Two at once? Oh, crap! They’re reading my mind!)
I slammed my eyes shut and started counting numbers as fast as I could-the mental firewall technique the Parasite Host had figured out.
’Ho. You’re awfully young to know how to set up a defense,’ the voice said in my head.
That was the Elf’s Telepathy coming from my forehead. That meant the one coming from my hands was the girl.
’Wait… this is the kid from Sister Ferris’s place?’
While I was distracted by the girl, the Elf’s presence slipped through the gap. ‘Do you know Lady Chulpan or something?’
(Is this Elf Chulpan? And she knows Granny?)
’He’s from the village where my senior disciple sister is staying. Still, a Level 3 in the Militia? That’s a shock.’
Back home they said I was “above average,” but apparently, that’s “Level 3.” It felt weird being used as a literal chatroom for these two.
’You can use Telepathy, right?’
’Yes.’
’I’m Chulpan Luria, Sister Ferris’s junior disciple. And this assistant is Nikole Yarn. She’s a pathetic magic student who spent too much time partying, failed her credits, and got shipped to the front lines as punishment.’
’Teacher! You didn’t have to bring up the credits!’ Nikole snapped back through the link.
’Um… you know Granny?’ I asked.
’Calling her “Granny” is a bit rude. She’s only two hundred. In Elf years, she’s in her prime.’
Chulpan explained that she and Lady Ferris were both born in the Great Forest and studied under a master in the Horn Mountains. Granny had apparently fallen for a human traveler and chased him out of the woods.
’Though, she didn’t end up with him. She married some random Elf, had two kids, and the moment they could stand on their own, she got a divorce and moved to that village.’
As she told the story, she dug deeper into my head. ‘Sorry, Nikole. It looks like he’s already set to be married once the war ends.’
’What?! I finally find a Level 3 guy and he’s already taken? He’s just a kid! You’ve got to be lying!’
’It seems the Lord’s wife’s sister is pulling the strings. I wouldn’t recommend trying to cut in on that.’
I was floored. They had dug that far into my head already?
’And here I thought I’d finally secured a future as a mage’s wife…’ Nikole’s hands let go, and her presence vanished from my mind.
’Nikole treated you yesterday and was ecstatic when she found out you could handle Mana. She was all set to make her move on you,’ Chulpan teased.
(She had those kinds of motives?)
’Nikole is a Level 3 Complex-type but her Simple-type magic is weak. She can use Telepathy, but she can’t actually “dive” into a mind. That’s why she needed me. Forgive her-she’s a handful, but she’s a good assistant.’
I’d heard about this. Complex-type magic handled high-level Mana polymers for medicine, while Simple-type handled the stable dimers for stuff like Telepathy. You were usually good at one or the other.
’I’d love to keep chatting, but I’m busy. Tell you what-come to the clinic tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have some tea and cookies waiting.’
’What about my head?’ I asked.
’It’s fine. Both the plumbing and the wiring.’
(Wait… she didn’t do any actual healing just now, did she? Was I just being held here so Nikole could scout me?)
’This is a battlefield where lives are traded like currency. Can you really blame a young girl for wanting to secure her future? Surely a little selfishness is allowed.’ The answer flashed in my mind before the link snapped.
”Alright, you’re good to go. Just for safety’s sake, come see me tomorrow afternoon. You’re dismissed,” she said out loud.
”Uh… right. Thanks.”
I scrambled off the bed. Next to me, the engineer who had been screaming bloody murder was now snoring away. On the other side, Nikole was already tying down the next patient, a slightly sadistic grin on her face as she cranked the ropes tight.
I headed outside and realized I was near the east gate. The inside of the fortifications had been scraped clean-mostly dirt and few drainage ditches. Aside from the clinic and a few huts by the gate, it was just a sea of tents. Winter was coming, and this place looked like it would be a nightmare in the snow.
”Crap. I should’ve eaten breakfast before I left.”
Looking toward the west gate, the place was empty. No horses, no patrols. Everyone was already out.
”You’re Larry Fee-kun, right?” A man who looked a good bit older than Bours-san called out to me.
”Yeah, that’s me.”
”I’m Marx Reinisch, assigned to your squad. Second unit, Obernbach. Good to have you. Your gear’s in the tent.”
(I hope he’s not another ability user…) I thought, cautiously taking his hand. He seemed normal enough. My “gear” turned out to be just a basic set of leather armor and a sword.
”Where is everyone?”
”Out on a training run-guarding the supply route to Obernbach. I’m just pulling sentry duty today.”
According to Marx, after the raid ended and the Militia¹ divisions were organized, we were folded into the 303rd Unit of the Vod Fortress² Campaign. The unit was a patchwork of cavalry, infantry, engineers, and medics, totaling one hundred and thirteen men including the Militia.
”The Militia is split into five squads of ten,” Marx explained. “Which makes us the First Squad.”
(I already heard about the First Squad a moment ago…)
”Our squad leader is a former Captain named Bours,” Marx continued. “He’s a legend. They say Second Lieutenant Patrick Muzen – the commander of the entire 303rd – can’t even hold a candle to him.”
Since Bours was a former Captain and the commander was only a Second Lieutenant, it stood to reason the commander had once been his subordinate. I seemed to recall Bours was the one who claimed he’d take responsibility for the orders given during the attack.
”Um, there are more tents now, aren’t there?” I asked.
”Yeah, more Militia arrived after the fighting stopped yesterday. They’ve been out training since dawn.”
Even with the recent combat, new blood was already arriving. (With training already in full swing, is it really okay for me to go have tea tomorrow under the guise of a medical exam?)
With nothing else to do, I listened as Marx filled me in on the tactical details. The Kiridal soldiers had secretly cleared a side path from Vod Fortress to our supply route. They’d moved into position before the East Gate under the cover of night, launching their assault the moment the doors opened at dawn.
Their primary objective was likely to sever the supply line between Obernbach and Lint. Aside from the force that hit the base, a separate detachment had raided a village at the midpoint. Fortunately, a unit including Golems traveling from the city had happened to be staying in that village. They repelled the attackers and pushed toward Lint, catching the enemy in a pincer move that sent them into a full retreat.
As for the South Gate, it had been hit by a band of rogue mercenaries looking for easy loot. They’d heard the army was focused on the West Gate and figured they could raid the civilian quarters while everyone was distracted. However, the defenses held firm. A few managed to slip through and join the assault on the East Gate, but Bours and his men cut them down, forcing the survivors to retreat after losing half their strength.
”By the way, what’s actually over at the South Gate?” I asked.
”The laundries,” Marx replied.
I remembered what Bours had mentioned when we were camping out. “Wait… is that the place where the women wash clothes by day and… do ‘that’ by night?”
”You’re young, but you’re sharp,” Marx said with a laugh. “That’s right. There’s a river past the South Gate where they handle the garrison’s laundry. And at night, well, it’s exactly what you’ve heard.”
He explained that off-duty soldiers were usually staying there; they’d joined the sentries and infantry in the fight, which was likely why the mercenaries couldn’t break through. Even with such an interesting story to occupy my mind, I realized I hadn’t brought a single coin with me.
”You lot look bored,” an infantryman called out.
Since we were just idling in a war zone, there was no point in denying it. “Then help us out. We’re heading into the woods for firewood.”
Marx claimed he couldn’t leave his post, so I followed the infantryman alone. We exited through the West Gate and took the road leading straight into the forest. This was the same path where, amidst the chaos of my brothers’ deaths, the enemy cavalry had swept down from the north before fleeing back toward Kiridal.
We hauled a cart along the road that circled the ramparts, crossed the brook where the camp draws its water, and entered the forest. The infantrymen set to work with broadaxes, felling trees to widen the path, while the younger soldiers and I used machetes to clear branches and brush. Despite the November chill, the labor soon had us drenched in sweat. The infantrymen eventually felt safe enough to strip off their armor as they swung their axes. We stripped the fallen trees, bundled the branches with rope, and loaded the cart to haul the fuel back inside the gates.
Just as the setting sun dipped behind the castle walls, the man who seemed to be the lead infantryman called out, “That’s enough for today. Let’s pack it up.”
I was stooping to gather the last of the brushwood when the rhythmic thunder of hooves reached my ears. I didn’t think much of it – there were always cavalry patrols – but the noise was too frantic.
”What is it?” someone asked.
”There! Look!” a soldier shouted, pointing just to the left of the West Gate. Simultaneously, the bronze peal of the alarm bell atop the breastwork began to toll.
”What’s happening?!”
Amidst the confusion, the leader snatched up a spear. “It’s those damn mercenaries from yesterday! They’re headed right for us!”
On the straight path from the West Gate, five ragged riders were charging our position. At their head was a massive, brutish woman. Suddenly, a sharp memory flared from the Parasite Host³ – a fragmented recollection identifying her as the ‘gorilla-woman’ who had opened the wound on my head.
”Block the path! Throw the logs!” the leader screamed.
By the time he shouted for those of us without spears to obstruct the road with the cut wood, the riders were already upon us. The leader hurled his spear at the woman, but she swatted it aside with a heavy mace. As she thundered past, our eyes met for a split second. I felt a surge of pure hatred radiating from her. (Perhaps the person the Parasite Host killed was her husband, or someone close to her…)
The mercenaries tore through our disjointed line and vanished. It took several more minutes for a group of armed infantry to come pouring out of the West Gate in pursuit. We spent the rest of the evening searching the surrounding woods with the returning soldiers, but we didn’t find so much as a rabbit.
By the time the sun had completely vanished, I finally got to eat bread and vegetable soup – my first food in twenty-four hours. It stung to hear that last night, the headquarters had served meat soup and ale to celebrate the victory.
”We’re heading out for a bit,” Edmond said.
As soon as we finished eating, Edmond, Getz, and Martin stood up to leave. Bours made sure to catch them before they went. “Fine, but be back here before sunrise. Don’t miss assembly.”
I wanted to ask where they were going, but I already knew. There was only one place they’d be heading: the South Gate. And since I was penniless, there was no way I was following them.
”Larry, let me introduce you to the rest of the squad,” Bours said.
After the others left, Bours walked me through the remaining members of the First Squad. First was Marx, whom I’d already met. He was in his fifties and ran a laundry service in Obernbach; he was a refugee from Laland who had fled the Empire of Rus. Next was Neil, a silver-haired man two years older than me; he was an immigrant from Great Norden Island waiting for a land allotment. Third was Emil from Heberlich Village. He was about Edmond’s age and a follower of the Universal Church – a rarity here – who offered a prayer before eating. Then there was Rudy, a boy my age with black hair. He was shorter than me but insisted on acting like my superior; he was an arrogant type who scoffed at Strock Village, calling it the boondocks. Finally, there was Konrad, one of the elders from Heberlich. He looked to be in his thirties and seemed very composed.
Including Bours, Edmond, Getz, Martin, and myself, that made ten of us. I learned that the others from my area – Celt, Clemens, and Roberto – had been placed in the Second Squad. Bours explained that the squads were organized to keep neighbors together whenever possible.
—
Summary:
Larry wakes up in a field hospital after the Parasite Host killed a mercenary and got him clubbed in the head. He meets Chulpan, an Elf doctor who is a peer of Ferris, and her assistant Nikole. Through a telepathic link, he discovers he is a rare ‘Level 3’ talent, which has made him a target for Nikole’s romantic (and social-climbing) interests.
Larry is integrated into a Militia squad led by the respected Bours. After a lesson on local geography and the ‘South Gate’ camp followers, he is put to work gathering wood. A surprise mercenary raid interrupts the work, revealing a personal grudge between Larry’s inner ‘Parasite Host’ and a formidable mercenary leader.
—
Trivia:
- The ‘Parasite Host’ possesses its own defensive mental techniques.
- Healing magic for internal injuries (bone-setting) involves manipulating Mana polymers and doesn’t emit ‘white smoke’.
- Pain can cause involuntary defecation during high-level magic treatment, requiring bedpans (bekken).
- Elves live centuries; Ferris is considered ‘in her prime’ at 200.
- Larry is technically already ‘engaged’ or targeted for marriage by the Lord’s wife’s sister.
- Complex-type magic is for physical matter/healing; Simple-type is for mental/Telepathy.
- The 303rd Unit is a mixed-force unit including Golems.
- Marx is a refugee from Laland, indicating the Empire of Rus is an expansionist threat.
- Larry is currently penniless, preventing him from participating in the night-time activities at the South Gate.
- The ‘Universal Church’ is noted as rare in this specific region
—
Character Insight:
Larry feels a dark sense of relief that his first kill was committed by the entity possessing him, showing a lingering detachment from his actions. Nikole is revealed as a social climber, highlighting that even in this world, ‘Level’ dictates romantic desirability.
Larry is feeling a disconnect from his peers; he is the only one not visiting the South Gate, partly due to lack of funds, but also his internal conflict regarding his new life and the ‘Parasite Host’ memories.
—
Lore And Worldbuilding Context:
The author uses a pseudo-scientific approach to magic (polymers vs dimers) to differentiate between physical and mental sorcery.
The ‘gorilla-woman’ is a recurring physical trope in Isekai, but here she is given weight via a perceived personal loss, making the conflict more than just a random encounter.
—
Glossary:
Notes:
• Edmond – Second son of a farm, tall, lanky, and wiry, he arrived late to the academy until Bours-san’s harsh lesson on punctuality; now a militiaman from Mauer Village and Mary’s brother, he teases Martin and Larry, mocks manual labor, and plots village celebrations—all while dreaming of the Officer’s Academy. He recently visited Larry to explain the battle’s aftermath, his restless energy still untempered, his ambition burning brighter than his discipline.
• Bours – Tall, scarred, in a faded Royal Army uniform, he is a former captain turned militia instructor — stern‑tempered, training village youth in archery, tactical Heal magic, orc‑hunting and survival. Married to Sheeta‑san, father of a son in the Imperial border division, now conscripted; veteran of the Western Front, Elders’ Council member, and commander of cavalry/infantry during the Kiridal attack.
• Ed – A lanky village youth in simple farmer’s garb, Larry’s close friend and soon‑to‑be conscript, fiercely protective of Larry’s interests, now serving as a militia member assisting in spear‑wall training.
• Al – Alberto, a massive red‑haired man recently married to Mary, just finished his village wedding. He is a companion of Hans, helping intimidate and gather elders as a villager and leader working alongside him.
• Nikole – A magic school student and Chulpan’s assistant. A Level 3 Complex-type mage sent to the front for failing credits. A medic.
• Niko – Former slave head and expert in butchery. Encourages Larry’s masculine ‘Rite of Passage’.
• Ferris – Granny, an ageless elf who appears as a 30‑year‑old but is centuries old, runs the village pharmacy with deep magic and elf‑style healing. She claims to have known Larry’s grandfather, speaks bluntly, and is the elderly woman Martin hopes to marry.
• Chulpan – A short elf with long ears who resembles Granny Ferris. Wears a white lab coat under a mantle.. A medical professional wearing a white coat. An Elf doctor and junior disciple of Ferris. She is a skilled mage capable of Telepathy and complex bone-setting.
• Larry – 14‑year‑old third son of the Strock headman, reddish‑white skin, bronze eyes, curly bronze hair, now hosts a 40‑yr‑old former manager’s mind. Level‑3 Mana user, he battles PTSD and memory leaks from a modern Japanese past, diligently maintains militia gear, acts as medic/house‑sitter, hides fire magic, admires his sister‑in‑law, and trains to become Village Head.
• Marx – A fifty-something laundry owner from Obernbach and a refugee from Laland. A member of the Obernbach second unit and Larry’s squad mate. A member of the protagonist’s squad who often initiates group conversation.
• Patrick – A Second Lieutenant who takes responsibility for Bours’ lethal orders to maintain discipline.
• Martin – Mar, a young recruit from a neighboring village, wears Shinto‑inspired armor and fights in a Shinto‑linked style. Loud and boisterous, he’s a Mauer militia member obsessed with erotic themes, flirts with Ferris‑san, proposes to Felice, pursues the elf Granny Ferris, and trains with Larry. As a militia member, he proposed to Ferris‑san without knowing her true age.
• Getz – Rugged Mauer Village militiaman with short, unkempt hair and a scar across his left cheek, clad in a worn leather jacket over a faded uniform; he keeps distance from most but shares a close, quiet bond with Larry, his fellow militiaman. Respects Bours’ authority, embodies tense defiance mixed with reluctant loyalty, scouts the village, spreads gossip, and forgets politics and religion—relying on others to untangle them. His confusion masks a quiet, stubborn integrity, and though frustrated as a spearman, he stands firm in his own way.
• Konrad – Elder of Rudy’s village with some knowledge of history.
• Emil – A man from Heberlich Village who rarely speaks and is skeptical of military survival.
• Neil – A silver-haired, blue-eyed volunteer from Great Norden Island with ties to the Second Sage’s lineage.
• Rudy – A young man from Heberlich Village, highly competitive and elitist regarding his hometown. Black-haired squad member who acts superior and looks down on Strock Village. Larry’s acquaintance who struggles with armor maintenance.
• Clemens – Recruit from Mauer Village, he looks nervous and trembles before authority figures such as Bours. Quiet and taciturn, he seldom speaks but often shows worry about the Charlemagne Empire.
• Roberto – A weary recruit, his face still marked by last night’s turmoil, sits beside Larry, a fellow trainee and spearman. Nervous and trembling, he is a village youth dreading war, his posture and shaking hands betray his fear, while as a militia member he voices dread of the enemy’s snipers.
• Celt – Modestly dressed tenant farmer in simple work clothes, level‑headed militia member who questions war’s civilian toll and seeks tax relief to buy land; skilled sandal‑maker, observant translator of Bours’s jargon, banquet observer admiring Teressa‑san’s competence, village gossip source, now leader of Second Squad with a calm, kind demeanor.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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