A few days later,
A large number of people, men and women, could be seen lining up in an orderly fashion.
A spectacle very rarely seen in Velera, especially this early in the morning.
Each and every one of them bearing the insignia of the Velera Duchy and the Kingdom of Dorthe's flag on their right and left chest respectively.
Their formal army attire did little to mask the sense of crisis and agitation pervading the air around them. Most people present were relatively young with no actual experience on the battlefield, thus the visible discomfort was a natural conclusion.
Dorthe had been at peace for far too long.
Days earlier, when the news had just broken out, all eligible adult citizens with formal army training and under a certain age were asked to report for evaluation. If anyone was caught evading enlistment they were to be dealt with by the appropriate punishment.
The Duchy had set up two recruitment camps, one on the north and the other on the west side of the city.
Currently, in the north camp, standing amidst the sea of military tents was a lone building with simple architecture painted entirely in bright yellow; it was quite eye-catching.
It wasn't long before an entourage of what seemed to be high-ranking officers accompanying a red-haired woman in the middle leisurely walked out of the conspicuous structure, stopping a short distance ahead of the front line.
Rhonin, positioned somewhat at the back, had to strain his neck to catch a glimpse of the red-haired woman in between the lines of fellow soldiers.
Nevertheless, that didn't prove to be much of an issue, as her booming voice more than made up for the lack of visibility on Rhonin's part.
"As I'm sure you're aware, the talks between our country and the neighbouring Kingdom of Attica regarding the acquisition of the island of Pathos have, after decades, finally fallen through!" She paused for a moment, scanning the surroundings before speaking up again.
"I'm here today to tell you that any diplomatic or political aspect of this conflict, regardless of the status you may or may not hold, is to be none of your concern!"
"You will act solely as a deterrent, and if needed, as a shield for your country!" Her voice rose by a few octaves.
"Do I make myself clear!"
The response given back to her was less than ideal, as a vast majority of the people present either forgot, didn't care about proper etiquette, or were just plain scared.
The red-haired woman shook her head helplessly at the current state of Dorthe's proud sons and daughters.
She heaved a deep sigh, in some way already exhausted from this whole situation.
Aside from all the primarily negative emotions presently painted on her face, there was also understanding.
For anyone who at all knew anything about Dorthe or even remotely followed the events of the Kingdom, it was apparent that it heavily favoured business and diplomacy over other alternatives.
She too was the daughter of a big-shot merchant; having achieved her position as one of the nine commanders through more than pure effort and skill, she had deep insights regarding many matters happening behind the scenes.
For a long time since the Kingdom's inception, it had acted and been perceived as no more than an immensely glorified trading post rather than an independent, self-sufficient nation. It hosted people from all walks of life and didn't discriminate against anything or anyone except the poor.
Following the grand vision of its first monarch, Queen Dorthe, it had developed unobstructed for the most part, barring a few special incidents.
It came as a huge surprise to everyone when, after being crowned, the newly appointed king greatly altered the country's approach and stance in relation to both domestic and foreign policies.
Many recent events flashed by in the red-haired commander's mind, all leading to the newest development and abrupt order of deployment to the island of Pathos.
She glanced at the lieutenants on her side; their posture and expressions each conveyed different meanings, some people relaxed as if not bothered at all while others noticeably tense.
Intense contemplation erupted on her face as she tried to grasp the truth of the matters occurring around her.
Eventually, she had to let it go; she simply didn't possess enough intel to connect the dots properly.
Turning her attention back to the increasingly restless crowd, she began relaying the plan in a strict tone.
"According to the decree passed down by the Grand Marshal, all territories under the banner of the country of Dorthe must assemble a certain number of troops and attend the proclamation of war ceremony that is set to take place in Pathos within two weeks' time."
Avoiding any untimely interruptions she quickly continued on.
"In the next couple of days you're each going to be assigned to a battalion, where you will answer to these individuals you see before you as your leaders." The commander pointed to the people next to her.
"After the appropriate preparations and sorting process itself is complete, we will gather here once more and set sail for Pathos..."
"Is that understood?"
"Yes, Commander!"
Hm, better this time, she noted.
The commander metaphorically stepped off before another high-ranking officer took over, explaining the finer details...
"Alright, disperse!" After a few very long minutes the crowd was disbanded.
Rhonin, while walking back to his assigned tent among the rest, where he guessed he would be spending his next couple of days, thought back to his mindset only hours prior.
...
"War?" Rhonin looked at Regis's punchable face in bewilderment.
"That's right, news arrived straight out of the Royal Castle; King Lynx laid down the order himself."
Taking a moment, Rhonin attempted to keep his composure, but glancing towards Regis and his smug expression, he realized he had failed.
How could he not? The shock was too large for a person like him who had lived all his life sheltered by the walls of a great city.
Added to that, unlike the old man way past his prime currently staring at him with glee, Rhonin was still not even thirty years old.
Enlistment was unavoidable.
Utterly ignoring Regis, Rhonin walked back into his room and heavily shut the door in his face.
"Hey! Where're y—"
Slam.
Rhonin, wanting nothing to do with the greedy old fool, gave up on arguing.
There's no point. Already aware of the reason for Regis's treatment, he decided not to dwell on it.
Plopping back down on his bed, Rhonin soon took notice of his heart hammering in his chest.
Soon, it dawned on him fully!
War!
Fear crept up in his body, his mind grew anxious. All this time, despite his plentiful hardships, he never actually felt a real sense of dread, panic, or unease.
It was like sampling one of his late father's infamous experimental recipes through a filtered straw.
He was traumatised by loss, neglected and thrown into adulthood way too early, but still he was safe.
Now that too was beginning to show signs of going away, for good.
...
Shaking off his jumbled thoughts and feelings, Rhonin swiftly arrived at his designated tent.
Exhaling softly through his nostrils, he lifted the tent flap, noticing the well-made fabric and then...
"!Rhonin."