Mercenary System: I can increase innate potential !

Chapter 62 The day after a fight

It was some time before the fire died down, at which point Maxime sighed silently, looking up at the clear sky.

The sun was beginning to release its soft glow and comfortable embrace.

"I wonder how often I'll be attending this kind of funeral from now on."

Clearing these dark thoughts, Maxime left silently.

As the chief left, many mercenaries and soldiers followed him, while others chose to stay a while longer.

At the edge of the forest, mercenaries and soldiers, still smeared with dried blood and dust, returned to the village, their heavy footsteps echoing on the beaten earth.

The villagers, already up and about, were waiting for them, but a certain distance, mingled with curiosity and apprehension, had settled between them.

Although the village was some distance from the battlefield, all the families had heard the soldiers' cries of rage, despair and sadness.

As a result, he didn't know how to approach these people who had undoubtedly experienced something atrocious the night before.

And indeed, these men and women, who only the day before had put up a fierce fight, were now almost unrecognizable.

They had left behind the face of war and death to adopt a totally different attitude. Some were already beginning to remove their breastplates and place their weapons in various places.

This simple gesture in itself was strange to the villagers, used to seeing these warriors always ready for battle, always on the alert.

Since their arrival, they had never seen them without their equipment.

Even when they ate in the evening, they kept it on.

But that day, many mercenaries and soldiers took it away.

Near the farms, mercenaries had picked up picks and shovels, joining the villagers to help them with their tasks.

An old farmer, his eyebrows furrowed, watched as these men, accustomed to wielding swords, drove pickaxes into the ground with a precision that was no match for that of an experienced person.

Beside him, a young woman, holding a child in her arms, stared at the mercenaries with a mixture of astonishment and fear.

She murmured: "They're not like yesterday..."

Her child, his eyes innocent, watched the mercenaries work with curiosity as he kept his index finger warm in his mouth.

A soldier, still covered in mud, stopped beside the old man and, without a word, bent down to pick up a fallen plank of wood.

The farmer hesitated for a moment, observing the man in scratched armor, before nodding his thanks.

A silent, almost solemn exchange took place between them, as if last night's deeds were already distant, belonging to another life.

Near the village well, a small group of women had formed, stealthily watching a mercenary who, after removing his battered helmet, began chopping wood with an axe.

The thud of each blow echoed in the still morning air.

The man who had fought so fiercely the day before now seemed entirely absorbed in this simple, repetitive task.

His movements were fluid, efficient, as if he'd been doing this all his life. Yet the mark of war was still visible in his tired eyes, a shadow that would not easily disappear.

"They're softer than you'd think," murmured one of the women, a widow from the village.

She remembered her husband as the kindest, most caring man she'd ever known. Yet he was also a soldier.

"They're not always bloodthirsty beasts. When the fighting stops, they become men like us again."

In a corner of the village, Rodrigo was helping to milk the cows, which was a more technical task, under the watchful eye of an elderly farm woman. She looked at him with suspicion, guessing that something had happened last night.

But the young man was calm, his gestures clumsy but full of goodwill.

"It's not as easy as wielding an axe, is it?" he joked softly, a sad smile on his lips.

The old woman didn't reply, worrying about him.

Henry and Ultia also helped out in the village, but they no longer maintained their original arrogance and pride.

After that bloody baptism, both had matured.

The day continued in a strange atmosphere.

When evening came, the meals were no longer as lively as before.

The mercenaries and soldiers eating in the villagers' homes no longer seemed able to formulate long sentences.

"Bon appétit."

"Thank you for the meal."

"Good night."

These were the most common phrases heard that evening.

Maxime stood alone, on a wooden chair, arms crossed beside Andrew's bed, which was still unconscious.

The flickering light of a candle on the bedside table cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere both peaceful and heavy with gravity. Outside, the night stretched on, silent, disturbed only by the distant chirping of crickets and the light breeze blowing through the trees.

A wide bandage covered his right flank, where the enemy's blade had bitten deep. Every breath he took was a struggle, a hoarse whisper that betrayed the severity of his wounds. Sweat beaded on his forehead, testifying to the invisible battle he was waging against death.

The village healer, a stooped old woman with deft hands, had already passed by, applying ointments and bandages, murmuring prayers to the ancient spirits. She had done all she could. Now the rest was up to him and his will.

"You little fucker, I hope resting in this bed is more comfortable than bathing in your blood in the middle of the forest."

Maxime laughed lightly as he thought back to last night.

Terry, James, Piedro and Izo arrived just then.

"Still here, Chief?"

James asked in a husky voice.

Clearly, this tall, strong young man had been scarred by last night.

"Yeah, obviously, where's Peter?"

"Dead."

Izo, who normally kept an impassive expression, had a tear running down his left eye.

Maxime remained silent for a moment.

"Alessandro?"

"Dead."

"Ronny?"

"Dead."

Every time Maxime asked, Izo's neutral, emotionless voice popped up.

"So of the 8 mercenaries originally recruited from Quessoi, only 5 are left," Maxime thought sadly.

It was a fitting reflection of the tragedy that had unfolded the night before.

"If only I'd arrived earlier, maybe many mercenaries could have survived."

At that moment, he wondered if he would really be able to carry all the weight of the dead that would be on his shoulders in the future.

War really did bring nothing but destruction, sadness and anger in its wake.

"For my family, I have no choice."

Maxime reinforced his conviction once again.

Alien attacks were becoming more and more frequent, and everyone could see that humans were finding it harder and harder to defend themselves.

Just as had happened with the Piran attack.

Not to mention the oppression of civilians by certain powerful families.

"Chief, urgent news!"

A mercenary came panicking into the room, breaking the heavy atmosphere there.

"What's going on?"

The mercenary glanced at Terry and the others.

"It's okay, they can listen."

The mercenary nodded, then took on a serious expression.

"When I arrived at the village of Enor, what I saw was nothing but destruction."

"The village wall had completely collapsed while most of the houses and fields were burned."

"Fortunately, almost all the villagers were neither injured nor killed, but they lost a lot during that night."

"It's not certain that they'll all be able to survive the coming winter."

The mood in the room was heavy after hearing this news.

"What about the baron's apprentice knights and soldiers?"

The mercenary answered Maxime's question at once.

"Of the 12 apprentice knights sent by Baron Irut, I've learned that only 3 survived."

"Concerning the soldiers, I heard that only about ten of them were able to escape."

"The 3 surviving apprentice knights left to warn Knight Ron of their failure, but when they all returned it was already too late."

"I heard that Knight Ron was furious and had followed the trail of the men in black, but I don't know any more."

After this news, Maxime's face didn't change.

It was as if he was already used to being told about death as a common thing.

"Okay, thanks for your work. You can go and get some rest."

The mercenary left immediately.

The atmosphere returned to silence.

"What do we do now, boss?"