Yes. It seems right. No matter how much he thought about it, it seemed that way.
That soldier who saved Selena's brother.
That crazy person who rescued hundreds of unit members.
'That was me?!'
During the Luzens War, there was a time when he went crazy trying to save his missing squad members.
In the midst of that shitty military life and war, they had become quite close.
Laughing together, suffering together, almost dying together—after all that, they felt more like brothers than comrades.
He wanted to see them alive and well so he could curse at them, not see their corpses.
He didn't want their funerals. He wanted to punch them in the shoulder and complain about rations.
Of course, other comrades and superiors tried to stop him, saying it was insane.
Are you crazy enough to want to die? They've been trapped in the elves' encirclement for a long time.
It's sad, but they're dead. They're no longer in this world. So give up!
That was what everyone said. What everyone believed.
But at that time, he didn't even listen to all of their words.
He was too furious, too desperate, too stubborn to accept it.
And then he dragged his body into a place full of terrifying elves.
A suicidal move. Pure madness.
...Wow, shit. Looking back now, there was no one crazier than him.
Even he had to admit he must've left his sanity back at the base.
Even though the elves showed weakness in frontal battles, they were like ghosts in encirclement and annihilation.
You could never track them. You could never predict them.
They moved the forest itself.
Especially in small unit battles rather than large-scale operations, they always had the upper hand.
And once trapped in their encirclement, it was considered impossible to return alive.
But somehow, whether it was incredibly good luck or what,
He never encountered any elves and met up with his squad members.
As if the forest shifted without touching him.
And he still remembers the first conversation he had with those damn guys.
"You crazy bastard! What are you doing coming here?!"
"What the hell?! I came all the way to save you and this is what I get?!"
"We're saying this because you crawled into what could be your grave with us! Are you crazy enough to want to die?!"
They must all have been insane.
What if the elves heard the noise and came?
They probably would have been captured and suffered the horrible fate of having their scalps removed.
But the goddess of fortune favored him again this time.
Despite making enough noise to shake the forest, they never engaged with a single elf.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was impossible.
And somehow… it worked.
Thanks to that, he and his comrades tried to leave the forest supporting each other.
Each step felt like dragging a corpse—except the corpses were them.
'...And then, I met others who were isolated just like my squad members.'
At first, he thought it was just a few people. A couple of stragglers, nothing more.
But, damn it. That wasn't the case.
A few people grew to dozens.
Dozens grew to hundreds.
By the time he realized it, it was more than a company's worth of personnel.
They too, like his comrades, had missed the retreat timing and were isolated in enemy territory.
Faces pale, armor cracked, eyes hollow—every one of them carried the same despair.
They couldn't fight anymore, couldn't escape, and surrender was even more impossible.
In that cursed forest, surrender meant torture, not mercy.
And to those isolated soldiers, he did something crazy again.
Something so absurd that even Leon, remembering it now, wondered if he had lost his mind back then.
"Let's go together! If we go now, we can retreat to the main force!"
His voice had been loud—too loud for someone in enemy territory.
"I didn't encounter any enemies until the moment I met my comrades here!"
That was technically true… but also the worst justification any sane man could give.
"Whether we die here or die on the way, it's the same, isn't it? If we're going to die
anyway, wouldn't it be better to die a little closer to home?"
A line only a lunatic—or someone with nothing left to lose—could shout with confidence.
Crazy bastard.
What if the enemies really ambushed them?
What if a single squad of elves was hiding behind the trees?
They had at least built fortifications that could have held out for a round or two.
Instead of staying put behind the defenses, he urged them all to march through hostile territory based on a gamble and pure desperation.
If friendly forces had sent reinforcements, they might have had a higher chance of survival.
But at that time, he wasn't in his right mind, perhaps due to excessive adrenaline.
And the soldiers there, even the officers, were in a similar situation.
That intense desire to escape this hell. The survival instinct.
Everything else—orders, hierarchy, logic—became distant noise.
'I was lucky.'
Yes. He was lucky. And incredibly, almost fraudulently so.
It felt like someone had rewritten fate just for him.
During the retreat of hundreds of people from their fortifications, there was not a single enemy attack.
Not a single arrow, not a single spell, not even the sound of pursuit.
Without a single person falling behind, they walked and walked, supporting each other.
Dragging wounded comrades, leaning on shoulders, barely holding themselves together.
That's how they successfully joined up with the main friendly force.
A miracle disguised as a retreat.
Since it was so chaotic at the time, he just took his squad members and returned to their unit.
No report, no explanation—just a dazed march back to the platoon.