The stat called “Divine power.”
And the series of things Sergeant Shin Youngjun was going through.
After hearing that process, the squad leaders began to speak cautiously.
“Sergeant Shin answered like he didn’t know what it meant...”
“Mm. No matter how I think about it, only one meaning comes to mind. Is it just me?”
“It’s the same for me.”
While the other two leaders were holding their tongues,
Corporal Jeon Gwangil answered as if it were nothing.
“Maybe because it’s about him, Sergeant Shin can’t bring himself to think that far... and, well, there were parts a bit blatant, too.”
The stat called Divine power.
Mentions from a being that once had godhood—talk of Transcendence and such.
What that implies
was fairly clear.
“But.”
Even so,
Corporal Jeon Gwangil answered offhandedly.
“No one knows what result the things happening to Sergeant Shin will lead to. Even if there’s a result, it’ll be in the far future. We’re too busy trying to survive right now; I figured it’s nothing we need to bother with.”
“...You’re oddly detached about this, Corporal.”
“Didn’t I say? No matter what gets added to the story, what we have to do right now doesn’t change. Resist with everything we have until the day we die. Only that.”
“Yes. I know.”
Looking at Jeon Gwangil, Squad Leader Lee Sanga thought,
‘Back then, whatever his skill in a fight, I used to think he had a lot of mental instability.’
Even with something grand for a topic,
the one showing the least wavering was none other than Corporal Jeon Gwangil.
‘A lot happened... maybe he got tempered through it.’
It was a little curious,
but not a subject for right now.
“Corporal Jeon may think that way, but I don’t. Divine power, Transcendence...”
Even if he himself hadn’t fully grasped the meaning,
from a third-party point of view, these stories were blatant enough.
“I can’t help but worry.”
“Worry?”
Lee Sanga frowned.
“You’re all roughly aware of the stories about the Commander circulating among the troops, right?”
“For the most part.”
“If you only listen to the rumors, he sounds like something other than human. Like, he’s got three heads and eight arms—that sort of level.”
“That’s because people are looking only at the end results of what Youngjun pulled off, not the process. Judging by the results alone, it wasn’t weird to think so.”
“But... the actual Commander isn’t like that.”
It’s true that Shin Youngjun possesses overwhelming skill in certain areas.
Cooking is the representative example.
The fact he can even cross that Wall is one of those.
Innate fire resistance as a [Chef].
And thanks to [Absolute Palate], the strength that lets cuisine buffs stack—those are why it’s possible.
It’s a huge feat if you strip out the process and look only at the result.
Something others can’t even dream of.
However—
“In other areas, he’s still an ordinary person.”
Aside from those specific parts,
he’s still a human who could die from a momentary lapse.
“What are you getting at?”
“I wonder if someone that ordinary isn’t being pushed onto a path that’s far too grand.”
Lee Sanga spoke,
feeling a strange unease.
“You know this, right? Some of the soldiers practically venerate the Commander like some second coming of Jesus.”
“What, so you’d picked up on that too?”
Even in a military unit,
it’s hard to say everyone belongs to a single, uniform affiliation.
Some among the troops formed separate affiliations of their own.
Soldiers who play music band together into a music club.
Or those who like exercise form a fitness club.
Clubs aren’t a concept limited to schools.
And one example of exactly that
had been taking root inside the Legion.
“At some point they started trying to hide it, but at the start they didn’t.”
“...Honestly, when he mentioned a spirit earlier, I almost panicked thinking he was going to see Jung Sua. I’d been thinking the same thing.”
Their reason for gathering... wasn’t music or exercise.
Religion.
And
the path Sergeant Shin was walking eerily matched what that religious faction claimed.
“As I said, the Commander is a great man... but he has more ordinary parts.”
“That’s true.”
“I was already thinking we’d piled too much on someone like that, and from what we heard it’s only going to get worse. That’ll be an enormous burden on him.”
“I’ve got a rough idea about those people too, but as I understand it, they’re favorable toward Sergeant Shin.”
Corporal Seo Suhyeok’s words.
But
that was exactly what rubbed Lee Sanga the wrong way.
“I think we have to distinguish between being favorable and being fanatical. They see the Commander like a savior. I don’t think that’s purely a good thing.”
“They think well of him—what’s wrong with that?”
“I’m saying the expectations they carry will become a burden to him. And if that mission fails, even once.”
If success is foreseen at the end of that road, fine.
But—
“He said the stat called Divine power disappears altogether if you fail even once, right? That means failure is possible.”
“Hm. In that case...”
The System had postulated the possibility of failure.
The process Sergeant Shin was going through could fail.
“People who feel their faith has been betrayed will make a scene.”
“Exactly. I don’t know if the Commander could endure that...”
At that,
Corporal Seo Suhyeok, who’d been quietly listening, frowned.
“Are you saying you think Sergeant Shin has a high chance of failing, Squad Leader Lee?”
“...From the outside you might not see it, but up close he’s got more loose seams than you’d think.”
“I let it slide because it’s so far above my head, but failure, huh... I don’t know.”
He shrugged.
“It’s a bit much to assume the worst about something that hasn’t even happened.”
“...That’s actually more of a problem.”
“Mm?”
“Those people believe the Commander will save them.”
If it were only a matter of the betrayed turning on Sergeant Shin,
maybe that would be fine.
‘If their faith in the Commander has been betrayed, then the unit’s not intact anyway.’
A situation where everyone’s on the brink of death.
In a scenario that’s already the worst, criticism or not hardly matters.
However—
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but in stories about saviors and all that, it’s rare for the savior to save the world easily.”
“Are you saying failure is more common?”
“No, most stories end in success. But... there’s often a cost.”
“A cost?”
“In the usual case, it’s the savior themself.”
“......”
Even Jesus is an example, isn’t he?
“You’re saying Sergeant Shin would try for that Transcendence or whatever and then die?”
“I’m not saying it’s guaranteed. But. What I’m trying to say is that right now there are many in the unit who believe Sergeant Shin will ultimately save us in that very way.”
“...”
“The Commander calls himself selfish, but in my eyes he’s nothing of the sort. If many in the unit start wanting that kind of sacrifice, he’s the sort of person who might actually make it.”
“So the big burden you mentioned is that.”
“Yes.”
Cautiously, Lee Sanga made a proposal.
“Wouldn’t it be right to dismantle those people?”
“...It’s not that I haven’t considered it.”
Sergeant Lee Minjae thought of the person acting as that group’s leader.
He recalled when Jung ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Sua first joined.
‘When she first awakened through Youngjun’s cuisine...’
The look in her eyes when she gazed at Sergeant Shin—
it wasn’t mere gratitude.
‘If it had just been romantic interest, that would’ve been better.’
What was in that gaze
went far beyond that.
However,
even though Sergeant Lee Minjae noticed, he chose to let it be.
“...It might actually help.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sure, sometimes they look a bit excessive. As you say, it could be a burden to Youngjun. But the opposite could be true.”
Minjae thought of all the people they’d met so far.
Many of them had been hostile at first,
‘yet each, in the end, was remade into someone who benefits the unit.’
Therefore—
“It’s not our place to decide that.”
“In other words...?”
“If it’s a matter of deciding something inside the unit, then naturally—”
It’s the Commander’s job.
“It’s something Sergeant Shin Youngjun has left alone up to now.”
“...That’s true.”
“I don’t know the precise reason, but there has to be a reason he’s leaving a group of that size alone. Like I said before, even if his judgments look groundless, there’s a high chance they’re accurate.”
Arms folded, Sergeant Lee Minjae said,
“As for the stuff he’s supposedly experiencing, even I’m a bit taken aback—but that group? I don’t think we need to touch it until Youngjun says so.”
“...Right, that’s true. The Commander has left it alone; I butted in for nothing.”
Then
Corporal Jeon Gwangil cut in.
“And you said you’re worried Sergeant Shin might try to sacrifice himself.”
“Yes?”
“In that case, what we should do isn’t to cut away the people who believe in him.”
“What do you mean...?”
“Our top priority is to build an environment where he won’t have to choose sacrifice in the first place.”
Corporal Jeon Gwangil had been sharpening his skill to help Sergeant Shin.
By now, in close combat, he had no real peer inside the unit.
So he could say it with confidence.
“Forge the unit strong enough that situations never arise where he must choose sacrifice. That, I believe, is exactly what we need to do.”
“...Indeed. That’s right.”
Lee Sanga knew that was easier said than done.
Even so, she also understood it was a mission they had to accomplish.
“Seems I was thinking only in the worst direction.”
“Ha... I do understand your worry, Squad Leader Lee. But even if Sergeant Shin has plenty of loose seams, when it counts he’s always shown us his best. Don’t worry. We just need to do our part.”
“Yes. I’ve wasted time with needless talk. Sorry.”
In the end, the meeting ended like that,
and the squad leaders returned to their respective duties.
‘Then I’ll start with crafting the fire-resistant outfits...’
Just as she was about to return to her work,
‘Hm... come to think of it.’
One question flashed through Lee Sanga’s mind.
The Commander didn’t even fully know the meaning of what he was going through.
Probably because it’s his own business, he couldn’t imagine he was entangled in something so grand.
So a thought arose:
‘Is the Commander... even aware that such a religion has taken root inside the unit?’
It was just a fleeting question.
She let it pass with a light smile.
“No matter what, they’ve grown that much inside the unit. There’s no way he doesn’t know.”
Just as Sergeant Lee Minjae had said,
the odds were high he knew and was leaving it be.
‘Right... even if he has more loose seams than you’d expect...’
People who worship him have gathered
and a religion is forming inside the unit—
there’s no way
he wouldn’t know that.
****
And
while the squad leaders finished their discussion and were parting,
“G-Gracious Benefactor...!”
“......”
“What is this...!”
The people they’d been talking about—
Jung Sua and Sergeant Shin Youngjun—were at the top of the inner wall of the fortress,
standing in the command-and-control room, blankly staring around.
—Grghrk...
A shaman lay on the floor,
cold sweat pouring,
the room a wreck as if a battle had just taken place.
And...
=Lord of the Fortress. As I have said...
A manufactured spirit
was there.
=Due to the Lord’s acts, the degree of dependence upon the Lord and the sphere of the dependent faction have increased.
“......”
=Please understand that this fortress is acting for the Lord’s sake.
I scrubbed my face with my hands and looked at Jung Sua.
She stared back at me, eyes wide as if to ask what on earth had happened.
There was only one thing I could say.
‘I don’t know either, man...’
What the hell is this.
