The Toscano Empire's First Division was, as usual, undergoing intense training. Leo, a mere sergeant, found himself unable to resist the grueling pace and was just trying to survive.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
“Ninety-nine! One hundred! Ugh!”
He was practicing thrusting with a six-meter-long spear, repeating the motion over a hundred times with exact precision. By now, his limbs ached, and all he could think about was eating and resting. However, he doubted his meal would be anything better than the usual rotten herring or rock-hard bread. He felt defeated by the circumstances that forced him, a low-born man, into a life of military drudgery.
As Leo considered his miserable state, the squad leader called out, “Alright, training’s over! It’s time for chow! Form up in four columns!”
Despite the promise of food, the soldiers knew better than to get their hopes up. They slowly assembled, accustomed to the poor-quality meals, but the squad leader’s next words caught their attention.
“The Pereira Trading Company, which has been serving us rotten meals, has been replaced by a new supplier. I’ve heard the new logistics officer has put a lot of effort into improving our meals, so we should get something decent today.”
Hearing this, Leo and the other soldiers quickened their pace, hope finally stirring within them.
As they made their way to the mess hall, Leo’s comrades speculated. “Sergeant Leo, do you think we’ll really get something good this time?”
The squad leader had a reputation for being honest, and they took comfort in that. When Leo and his squad entered the mess hall, the usual sour smell was absent, replaced by a pleasant aroma that made their mouths water. They could see other soldiers already eating, their faces lit with genuine smiles.
“Maybe today really will be different,” someone murmured, though Leo, wary, warned them not to get too excited.
When it was finally Leo’s turn, he was astonished by the meal presented to him: soft rye bread, ribollita with bits of meat, salted herring, and a slice of cheese. It was a feast compared to what they were used to.
“Is it the division commander’s birthday?” Leo wondered aloud.
A nearby sergeant responded with a smirk. “Our new logistics officer came down hard on the supply contractors, got rid of the rotten food, and gave us this. Apparently, there was even money left over afterward.”
Leo’s eyes welled with tears. He managed not to cry, but some of the younger recruits nearby were openly sobbing, praising the gods for such a meal. The soldiers ate in silence, savoring every bite, as it was a rare taste of comfort amid their harsh daily life.
After finishing, they noticed a line near the mess hall exit. Curious, Leo joined it, watching as the soldiers ahead were handed small paper bags. The sergeant at the front called out, “Single file! One donut per person, courtesy of the new logistics officer! Show some gratitude and enjoy!”
Leo took his donut—a rare treat covered in sugar, which would have cost him a fortune in the city—and bit into it. The sweetness melted on his tongue, and he felt a warmth in his chest, a feeling of being recognized for his hardships. He and the other soldiers found themselves overwhelmed with emotion, many crying tears of joy.
“The new logistics officer really cares for us,” Leo heard one of them say. For the soldiers, the donut became a symbol of hope, a small delight to look forward to each week.
The effects of improved meals and the simple donut were immediate and immense. Morale soared, and the soldiers threw themselves into their training with renewed vigor. During a routine inspection, Leo encountered Fabio, the logistics officer himself, and snapped to attention.
“Sir! Sergeant Leo, reporting!”
Fabio, unlike most officers, acknowledged the salute with respect. “At ease, Sergeant. How’s service treating you?”
“Much better now, thanks to you, sir. My squad and I are grateful for the meals.”
But Fabio corrected him. “You’re mistaken, Sergeant. It’s His Majesty who’s responsible for your well-being. I’m just his tool, carrying out orders.”
Leo’s eyes widened with surprise as Fabio emphasized loyalty to the Emperor, downplaying his own role. It was a masterful way of cultivating loyalty without overshadowing the Emperor’s authority.
Fabio nodded to Leo, acknowledging his hard work. “Thank you for your service and dedication, Sergeant. Carry on.”
After that encounter, word spread quickly throughout the First Division, and it wasn’t long before soldiers could be heard shouting praises to the Emperor during drills. Fabio’s influence was undeniable, and morale reached new heights in the division.