A Small Step

"Here you go, Sir. Roasted hog along with a big jug of beer."

"Thank you, Miss."

Elt took out the knife that he had been carrying and used it to cut the meat into chunks that were easier to bite on. As he ate his meal, the man-who-was-actually-still-a-boy thought about his situation.

After leaving Lescatie and on his way to the nearest harbor, he was actually still growing despite the fact that his body had reached the average of adult man. By the time he arrived in the neighboring continent, he had to buy new clothes since the old ones no longer fit him.

Though thanks to that, the captain of the ship that he sailed on offered him a discount if he was willing to replace a crew member that was suddenly sick for that journey. Since it involved a lot of menial tasks, it made sense that the captain would choose him, the passenger who was tall and muscled.

Anyway, now that he had arrived at his destination, he should now be looking for a job. So far, he had been doing some odd jobs, mostly menial labor. There was a part of him that was not satisfied with such a profession. He needed something that was more…

"Hey, have you heard about it? The Old Duke is starting to recruit people."

"The guy's been one of the most pacifistic. For even him to start raising arms…"

"What do you expect? Those Austrans are violating centuries of pacts and agreements!"

The rest of the conversation was muted by the red-haired man. He had acquired the necessary information. It appeared that the local noble was recruiting people into his army in preparation for future conflict. Such a martial profession interested him. Perhaps he could take a look.

Once he was done with his meal, he exited the tavern and walked towards the board located at the town square. If he was looking for information regarding the recruitment station, then it was on that board where he would find it.

Before he reached it, however, his attention was distracted to somewhere else.

"Come on. I am sure that you can give a small bit of discount."

Turning his head, Elt saw five men gathering at a fruit stand. The vendor – a young woman just recently reaching adulthood – appeared to be afraid being surrounded by armed people.

"I-I-I am sorry, sir. B-But I really need the m-money, so…"

"Hey, now. After everything that we've down for this town, it's only…"

He couldn't help but rolled his eyes. It seemed that – no matter the place – there would be people who abused the trust that have been given to them.

Now, how to save the girl without breaking the laws? No guard was nearby, so reporting them was not an option. He needed to take…a more creative solution.

"Excuse me, Miss." He approached the stand. "Can I buy some fruits?"

"Eh? Um, yes…"

"Sorry, boy." The man who was bothering the vendor interrupted her. "But we're here first, so…"

Elt ignored him, pretending as if he heard nothing. He simply inspected the fruits one by one, trying to find the ones with the best quality.

"Hey, I am talking to you!"

Once more, he was ignored. After finding three apples that he believed to be the best, he gave them to the vendor so that she could weigh them.

"Don't your parents teach you any manners?!"

Again, the red-haired man paid zero attention to the yell. Once the weighing was complete, the vendor packed the fruits with old newspaper before giving them to Elt, receiving some bronze coins in exchange.

"Well, you ask for this, you son of a…!"

The man – out of patience – went to punch him. However, the red-haired man caught his fist before putting him in a lock, causing the man to scream. Elt then used his free hand to grab his opponent's sword before using the pommel to knock him out.

The dam was broken.

The companions of the man took out their own weapons. Elt stopped one of them by throwing his recently-bought apples at him, hitting him right on the nose. Not stopping even for a second, he sent a swing towards the nearest man, hitting his chin.

"That's three."

One of the men who was still standing swung his sword at him. The red-haired man parried the attack before retaliating by stabbing him in the shoulder, causing his opponent to scream and dropped his weapon. Elt finished it by kicking him in the stomach.

Seeing how fast his companions were defeated, the last man simply decided to run away. Calmly, the Lescatian picked an apple from the stand and threw it, hitting the running man right in the head and knocking him out.

"Sorry about that," Elt said as he offered her coins in return.

"N-No. I should be the one who thanks you, kind sir." The vendor replied, refusing the compensation.

"Oi, what's going on here?"

The red-haired man turned his head and saw a brunette approaching his position, accompanied by several guards. Judging from her armor and old wound on her face, she was likely their leader.

"We have gathered the statements from the people at the scene." The woman said. "You have our thanks for dealing with those ruffians."

"It is of no issue to me." Elt gave his reply.

He was currently inside the guard station, being asked by the local authority to give his statement regarding the incident that he caused. Because he was not the one who threw the first punch and simply defended himself, he was declared to be the innocent party.

"Say, what is going on around here?" The red-haired man asked. "There seems to be a lot of armed men around the town."

He could deduce the answer himself, but it was better to have it confirmed by a trusted source.

"Well, as you may have heard, Duke Glarus Brun – the Old Duke, as he's more known – is in the process of recruiting people into his army." The woman explained. "Usually, such a thing is not necessary, but the circumstances are no longer the same."

The guard sighed before continuing.

"This attracts many people, some of them are less-than-pleasant individuals. Needless to say, this pushed our capability to the edge."

"That explains a lot," Elt commented. "Say, I have been looking for a recruitment station. Mind pointing me in the direction of one?"

"I'll give you better: I'll escort you there and give my recommendation." She smiled. "I was not there to see it, but I know that taking out five armed men without getting any injury is no small feat."

"That would be appreciated." He then remembered something. "Ah, forgive me. I realize that we haven't introduced ourselves."

"We haven't? Yes, you're right." The brunette shook her head for a bit. "My name's Amalia, the guard captain of this small town."

"Elt." The red-haired man introduced himself. "Just a traveler from Lescatie?"

"Lescatie, the kingdom of heroes?" She sounded quite amazed. "What are you doing in here, so far from home?"

"Let's just say I believe my destiny lies elsewhere." He stated with a smile.

As she had promised, Captain Amalia escorted him to the nearest recruiting station and gave him some good words to the recruiter, a bald old man whose beard had turned entirely white.

"Always good to have a recruit that knows how to swing a sword and when to use it." He stated. "Anything else I need to know about you?"

"I am literate and could do multiplication and division," Elt spoke. "Are those important?"

"Oh, that's good. Very good." The old man smiled. "You wouldn't mind if we give you some test, right?"

"Suit yourself."

The test was nothing more than a paper filled with questions about multiplication and division. He would be able to solve it in less than a minute if not having to be careful when using the provided quill.

"Well, I'll be damned." The recruiter said after grading the paper. "So, capable with using sword, literate, and – of course – can count to more than 10. If only you have experience in leading men as well, we would immediately assign you as a sergeant."

"Unfortunately, I am not perfect, sir." The red-haired man replied.

"Bah, spare me the false humility." He retorted. "Anyway, I have a proposition that might interest you."

"You will assign him to a Shieldbreaker unit, aren't you?" Amalia – who had been silent all this time – finally spoke.

"Shieldbreaker unit?"

"As the name said, your job would be to break the enemy's shield." The old man explained. "Well, actually, it's their formation, but since shield wall is the most common one out there, that catchier name was adopted."

"You'll receive double pay and also be given the best equipment." The guard captain added. "The catch is – of course – you have to fight at the frontline and in the most dangerous zone."

Elt knew how dangerous such a position was, yet there was something about it that was…tempting for him. It was as if the danger was of no consideration for him. He didn't feel any fear, simply wondering if the risk was worthy of the reward.

"Sounds like a good deal to me." He finally said.

"Wise decision, lads." The old man said with a big grin.

Months have passed ever since he joined the small army of Duke Brun. There was not much to do, to be honest. Day after day was spent honing his fighting skills and dealing with a bandit or two. However, considering the news that he heard these last few days, things were about to change.

"GAAAH"

"UGH!"

"KYAA!"

On the training field, it took Elt no more than ten seconds to beat all of his three opponents. After making sure that none of them were faking their pain, he stabbed his Zweihänder into the ground and rested upon it.

"Ugh, another loss…" One of the fighters spoke as he was being pulled towards a stretcher.

"Don't be too sad, lads." An older soldier told him. "It's Elt. He's second only to the heroes in terms of skills. And I have heard that it's actually debatable."

CLANG CLANG CLANG

"Ah, there it is, the lunch bell." He said. "Come, kids. Let's get our bites. Remember, Elt: you're the last on the line."

"I know, sir. I know." The red-haired man sighed as he followed his comrades. "Do it once and they never forget…"

There was a large building – long abandoned by its previous owner – near the barrack that had been converted into a mess hall. The soldiers gathered there to eat together and socialize. The food was somewhat lacking when it came to taste, but it was fulfilling for the people who had intense physical activities.

"So, anything new about the negotiation?" Elt spoke, almost finishing his meal.

"Nothing since the last one broke down." The old soldier answered. "That's the fifth time it happened."

"Such a thing is inevitable." Another soldier – a blonde female in a braid – commented. "We and the Austrans are simply too different; they want centralization, we want to keep our autonomy."

The rest of the table showed their agreement with the statement; this included the outsiders of the region. Elt couldn't help but feel it quite funny how quickly they were adopting the worldview of the Helvetians.

Then again, one of the retirement benefits for serving was land to call one's own. It was only natural that they would try to adopt their would-be neighbors' culture.

BAM

The mealtime was interrupted when the door of the mess hall was suddenly opened, causing many to look towards it. There, a man in flamboyant military dress stood, flanked by a pair of heavily armored knights. The man cleared his throat, taking the attention of the rest of the room.

"Soldiers, a courier has just arrived, delivering an unfortunate, yet also unsurprising news." He spoke in a booming voice. "Unable to force their ridiculous demands upon us, the Austran Dynasty has taken a more violent approach. Yesterday, their army clashed with that of our neighbor the Canton of Bassel. As an attack on one of us is an attack on all of us, it is prudent for us to march and assist our fellow Helvetians."

In his own mind, Elt was dissecting the short speech. There was nothing extraordinary about it, just some words anyone could make in a matter of minutes. However, it was also well-suited for the task; there was no need for much convincing towards the soldiers. They already made their decision. All that was left was for the order to be given.

"Finish your meal, men." The man finished. "Today, we will march and show those Austrans just how big the mistake that they have made! Helvetia Invicta!"

""Helvetia Invicta!""

After retrieving their weapons and equipment from the barrack, the soldiers went towards the street to prepare themselves for the upcoming march. They were separated into several companies, each being led by a captain.

When Elt realized the identity of his superior, it was quite a surprise.

"Captain Amalia." He greeted her. "It's a pleasant surprise."

"It's been a while, isn't it, Elt?" The brunette talked back. "Few months and not even a single battle, yet you already make a name for yourself."

"Did the words really spread that far and wide?" The red-haired man asked.

"Well, there's the old geezer bragging of how he got a jackpot." She explained. "Plus, defeating trained soldiers in seconds is no common feat, you know? It's something you expect from a hero, not some ordinary infantry."

When it was put like that, he understood what she meant.

"So, you're a Shieldbreaker as well?" Elt decided to change the topic.

"Yep. It's been a while since my transfer from the unit though, but…"

BBBOOOOOOO

Upon hearing the sound of the horn, Amalia changed her stance.

"Form up, men!" She shouted. "The signal has been given and we will not be found wanting!"

Wasting no time, Elt went towards his company and formed up alongside them, just as they have been ordered to. Within a minute, the horn made a different sound, indicating that a different order was given.

And thus, the Army of the Old Duke marched into war.

For three days and three nights, the army marched to help a besieged ally. Not only they were ordered to do a forced march, but it was also followed by eating their meals while walking; biscuits, dried meat, and cheese. For some of the men, it was too much and they ended up having to be carried by the supply wagons.

It was an uncomfortable ride, but it beat being simply left behind.

Noticing that the men had been pushed to their limit, the order was given for the march to stop and for the encampment to be raised. The soldiers wasted no time following the order to establish their resting place, though their tiredness meant it would be quite a while until the construction was done.

Except for one.

"Elt, do you…actually have the…blood of a hero or…something?" Amalia spoke between her breath. "We have been…marching all day and yet…you don't even appear…tired."

"I don't know. I was adopted by my parents, never know who my birth ones are." The man replied as he set up his tent. "Anyway, need help with that, Captain? I am about to be done with mine."

"That would be…appreciated…"

By the time the encampment was finished, hers was not the only tent that received a helping hand from him.

The dinner was nothing more than a porridge, though it was not an ordinary one. Created with the help of local alchemists, eating a single bowl of it was the equivalent of eating two or even three portions of normal porridge. The kind of food the military would kill for.

"So, Captain," The red-haired Lescatian spoke. "Any advice on what we might encounter on the battlefield?"

"Well, there shouldn't be anything your training doesn't cover." The brunette said, putting her spoon on the bowl. "But since these would be the first days of the war, there shouldn't be much to worry about."

"How so, Captain?" A soldier asked.

"Mobilization takes time." It was Elt who answered it. "Unlike us, the majority of the people in the Austran army would be landed knights, feudal levies, and scholar-mages. It would take time for them to be ready for war."

"Correct," Amalia confirmed. "Our enemies would likely be mercenaries and adventurers hired by the Dynasty. Remember your training and we will triumph. This, I swear to the Chief God!"

The men were taken away by the excitement. One of them, however, simply smiled before returning to his dinner. He didn't exactly disagree with the statement of his superior; he simply believed that things wouldn't be so simple. That it would be much bigger than any of them thought.

He would curse that he was proven right.

Unlike what many people thought, a battle was not a simple clash between two sides where they could fight each other until one was defeated and sent back feeling to their base. On the battlefield alone, there was more to be done than merely fighting the enemies in front of you. Maneuvering and positioning yourself in an advantageous situation was one of the keys to achieving victory.

Sometimes, however, you just have to accept that you were going to fight right then and there.

Nobody was sure how the two armies could end up encountering each other in complete surprise. Future historians would state that the Helvetians – due to being deep within the friendly territory – had neglected the usage of scouts beyond the most basic while the mercenaries hired by the Austrans were not of the good stock.

For those involved in the incident, the only thing that mattered was to push back the enemy and preserve themselves.

"Pikemen, steady the line!" The Helvetian commander shouted the order. "Shieldbreakers, harass them!"

"You hear him, men!" Amalia exclaimed. "Move forward!"

While the rest of the army tried to form a battle formation, the Shieldbreaker companies were tasked to prevent the enemy from doing the same. Due to fighting in a loose formation, it took less time for them to form up and be ready for combat.

It appeared that the Austran mercenaries had the same idea, sending several men armed with swords and shields toward the Helvetian line. Soon after, the two sides collided for the first time.

Using a Zweihänder, the Helvetians possessed a range advantage compared to the mercenaries who were armed with a shorter sword. However, the latter also had a shield that can be used to block the attack. If they played it correctly, the mercenaries could bypass the minimum range of their enemy's weapon and took them down.

Then, something unexpected happened.

"Gah!"

"Augh!"

"Argh!"

One of the Shieldbreakers was able to defeat anyone that decided to face him. Once seeing that it was safe, he went to his comrades and helped them take down their opponents. In just a minute or two, the mercenaries were routed and sent back to their line, allowing the Helvetians to continue their advance.

It was clear that the Austran side didn't expect that their men would be beaten so fast; it was to the point that none of their crossbowmen was ready to use their weapons. Thus, almost unscratched, the Helvetians crashed into their enemy.

There was a reason why the Shieldbreakers were only tasked to harass the mercenaries. It was almost impossible for them to defeat the enemy alone, especially with a head-on attack. Normally, they would keep attacking until the rest of the army arrived. Then, they would retreat to the safety of their line, letting the pikemen replace them. Once they had enough rest, they would rejoin the fight and strike the enemy at its flank.

"Normally" was the operative word.

Just like earlier, a Shieldbreaker was able to defeat any opponent that he faced. He was not a mere brute, however, for he also specifically targeted a certain type of people: those with fancier, better equipment which indicated their rank and those who carried the banner, responsible for keeping the morale of the men.

Tradition demanded that when the bannerman fall, those nearby would drop their weapon and picked up the fallen banner for not only it was the pride of the unit, the banner was also a method of communication in the chaotic environment of the battlefield.

When the bannerman fell, the mercenary beside him replaced his position. Upon being cut down, a woman at the back grabbed the banner. She too was cut down, becoming a head shorter. It didn't take long for another replacement to come by.

Yet it was in vain. Repeatedly seeing their banner fall caused the morale of the men to slowly yet steadily diminished. Furthermore, the deaths of those in charge broke down their discipline.

It was a matter of "when," not "if," for them to rout.

"Hole in their line!" The brunette captain shouted. "Don't waste the opportunity, men!"

"Come on, your lazy bastards!" In the distance, there was a shout from the Helvetian commander. "Are you going to let them do all the job?"

Like a domino, when one man ran, those nearby would follow. If nothing was done, the rest would be running as well, ending up with the army being routed from the field.

When the battle was over, 200 Austran mercenaries lay dead or wounded with the Helvetians suffering barely a tenth of that.

Just like any other day, Elt would wake up, have breakfast, put on his armor, and went to the field to train. However, in the middle of these, he found out about something and decided to make a detour.

"Captain, I am going to need a new armor." He said as he put down the crate containing it. "I don't think it fits me anymore."

Amalia – who was polishing her sword – looked at him in disbelief. She then looked down, noticing how his trousers were starting to hang above his ankles. She also noticed the same thing when looking at his wrists.

"You really are growing up." She spoke, disbelief was still apparent in her tone. "If this continues, you're going to be the tallest man ever!"

There was nothing that Elt could do but simply shrugged.

"I hope I am not interrupting?"

Hearing the sudden voice, both of them turned their attention toward the source. Upon seeing the speaker, the brunette immediately knelt. Seeing his superior doing that, the red-haired man followed the example.

"Milord, it's an honor to…"

"Ah, no need for that." The speaker, an old man past his prime, waved his hand. "Please, rise."

The two of them did as ordered. Looking closer, Elt noticed that while the man was indeed past his prime, the shape of his body indicated someone who was used to the life of the military. The man in question turned his eyes on him before looking back at the captain.

"May you introduce me to him?" The man asked.

"Of course, Milord." She followed the order. "This is Elt of Lescatie, the rising star of the army. Elt, this is Duke Glarus Brun, the commander-in-chief of the army and Head Executive of the Canton of Switzer."

"It's an honor to meet you, Milord." The red-haired man bowed.

"The honor is mine." The Old Duke nodded in return. "I have heard of you; not only of your strength but also your intelligence. Tell me, what do you think of the progress of the war?"

"So far, everything is going in our favor. The majority of the personnel in the Austran forces are feudal levies; they cannot fight for an entire year and are not as trained as the soldiers of the Cantons of Helvetia. Furthermore, we're on the defensive, meaning that we can use our knowledge of local geography to our benefit."

"But?"

"But the war is still ongoing, with the end nowhere in sight. This is not good for us." He continued. "There's a possibility of the Austrans deciding to defeat through sheer attrition, no matter how unwise such an idea would be. There's also how – as time passed – the Dynasty would be able to mobilize their elites: high-ranking adventurers, mages of famous institutions, and even a hero or two."

"Indeed." The old man rubbed his beard. "It is important for us to end this war as soon as possible."

He then raised his hand; a signal for one of his entourage to step forward. In the hands of the person in question was a rectangular wooden box. The man bowed before presenting it to the Old Duke who then opened the box and took out its content.

"Are you by any chance familiar with this weapon?" He asked Elt as he handed it over.

Upon inspecting the weapon, the man realized that it was a musket…only, it didn't appear to be an ordinary one. For one, there was no lock on it to ignite a spark. There were also some parts that he never saw in similar firearms, like the box located in front of the trigger.

"Why don't you give it a try?" The Old Duke suggested, noticing that he was indeed familiar with it. "Say, shooting that rock over there?"

Without any hesitation, Elt followed the order. He aimed the strange musket at the appointed rock before pulling the trigger.

Instead of the expected thunderous explosion, what came out was instead a red beam not unlike the one created by a mage. He also noticed the lack of recoil from the gun. When the beam hit the rock, a large chunk of it was destroyed, turned into pebbles.

"Holy shit…!" Amalia – who had been watching – couldn't help but comment at its sheer power.

"I suppose the reason for you being here has something to do with this weapon." The red-haired man said. "Am I right, Milord?"

"Indeed." Duke Brun said. "This weapon was found by an adventurer from an ancient ruin. Unfortunately, he was mortally wounded upon returning, leaving this weapon to his children who decided to sell it to me. I have been planning on sending an expedition to the ruin, to find more of this…technology, yet it has always been beyond me.

"You see, the adventurer was no ordinary one; had luck been more on his side, then he might walk the path of heroism. Thus, any expedition that I want to send has to be able to deal with a threat that is capable of defeating a hero."

"I do not believe that I am the right man for this job," Elt said in his opinion. "I am just…"

"Oh, for gods' sake, Elt!" His captain exclaimed. "When are you going to accept that you are no ordinary person?! Everything that you did is not something we common folks could do."

"I do not disagree with that." He tried to calm her down. "But to put me on the same level as a hero sounds, well, a bit reckless, don't you think? I haven't even fought a monster yet, let alone beaten one."

"Perhaps," The Old Duke stated. "However, I have an eye for spotting talented individuals. Trust me when I said that it is not a mistake for me to approach you. Plus, I can see how interested you are in the weapon."

Now that he mentioned it, the Lescatian realized how…attracted he was to the weapon. There was something about it that made him not want to let it go, to preserve it so that it could be used when needed. Then there was the sense of familiarity; it was more than because he had seen muskets before. It was as if this kind of weapon was the kind that he saw every day despite the fact that today was the first day he has ever seen one.

Yet one more question of his origins. Who was he? How did he end up in the forest and being picked up by his parents? Why did he grow so fast? How could he learn many things so quickly?

Elt shelved those thoughts. He would have time to ponder upon them. That time was not now.

"If that is what you believe, Milord," He spoke. "Then what do you want me to do?"

Answers to some reviews:

Madara95: Well, brutal death is a staple of 40K. So, you can expect that.

Yes, I plan for some changes in canon.

Nitrus7: I am still unsure of what to do with the XI.

123jazz2007: Yep. This takes place during the Great Crusade.

Scully1337: Sure.

Loken Lupercal: I plan for Elt to be on the average size.

Venom Snake: Well, let's just say the Warp has some connection with the gods.

Also, thanks for the information.

If you have a question or suggestion, feel free to tell me.

Review, please!