"Everyone, this way! We've found spring water!"
Three days have passed since the start of the Sylph Offensive.
The Western Front has already collapsed completely, and people who couldn't escape in time in the villages near the frontlines are reportedly being massacred.
These are the very people we soldiers are supposed to protect, but in our battered state, we had no such capacity left.
After all, we were running low on ammunition and equipment. It was determined that we were no longer physically fit to continue combat.
And it was not as if the Garback Platoon was marching through the forest lightly either.
Fighting hunger and thirst, we had been walking through the forest for three days straight, climbing over fallen moss-covered trees and without sleep.
"Really, Allen?!"
"Yeah."
All the members of Garback Platoon were on the verge of collapse.
We had been walking for three days without coming across any water source.
We survived by licking our empty saline solution bottles and sipping our own urine collected in our steel helmets, barely managing to keep moving.
The dehydration was so intense that we felt dizzy, our breath tasted sour, and our legs felt as heavy as lead.
"Water! Hell yeah!"
"N-No, stop, Rodri!"
Platoon Leader Garback said, "We will be self-sufficient in terms of food and water within the forest."
But once we started going through the forest, we found that securing food and water was more difficult than we had expected.
It would have been great if there had been a river flowing in the direction we were heading, but unfortunately, no matter how far we went on the first and second days, we never reached a river.
Then on the third day, having long since run out of water and on the verge of collapsing, Senior Allen finally discovered a small spring of water.
"F-Finally, water…"
"Hold on a second, please…"
If we had been a little slower in discovering the water source, our entire platoon would have been wiped out.
Dehydration is no joke.
Even Platoon Leader Garback looked like a dead man with dry lips and sunken eyes.
If it weren't for the Platoon Leader's order not to dispose of urine, some of our troops would have died.
I never imagined that survival in the forest would be so tough.
"If no one else is going to drink it, I'll drink it first—"
"Hmph."
"Ouch!?"
In such a desperate situation, Rodri was hit by the iron fist of the Platoon Leader as he attempted to drink the water.
I appreciate him stopping Rodri, but considering the effort to treat injuries, maybe hitting wasn't the best option. He really flew back there.
"Boiling comes first, Rodri. Drinking untreated water could wipe us out."
"…Understood."
"Everyone, form a stove in the dirt and turn your helmets upside down to collect the water. You can drink only after it's boiled and cooled."
"Yes, sir."
It would be no laughing matter if the water in this forest were contaminated with microbes.
Our entire unit could be wiped out if we all fall ill here.
Just in case, it's best to boil it before drinking it.
"We rest for now."
And so, we stopped marching and took our first rest in three days.
"Ow… it's hot…"
"Make sure to let it cool before drinking."
It had been a while since I had last drunk water. It was truly refreshing.
I didn't have tears to shed from dehydration, but I might have cried if I had been in normal condition.
I was reminded once again how important water is to the human body.
"When I think about it, medics' supplies are really geared for survival."
"Yes, having the burner for cauterizing wounds was a lifesaver."
Thankfully, we didn't lack a fire starter.
Among the medical tools I'd brought along, there was a burner for cauterization.
It also contains many other items that can be useful in extreme situations, including two empty saline bottles, a small bottle of disinfectant, clean cloths, and ointment for wounds.
These were probably issued so that medics could endure several days on the front line trenches.
The saline solution was especially valuable for both hydration and salt, which helped a lot.
I'm so grateful to Head Medic Gale.
"Platoon Leader, can I get some sleep?"
"No, we're behind schedule. We move once we've secured the water."
"…Understood."
Our march was significantly delayed due to the lack of water.
From the start, we'd all been stumbling around, dizzy from dehydration.
Of course, our speed dropped as a result.
"We should be able to get some supplies once we reach Marshdale. We'll have to hold out until then."
In the end, we only rested for a few hours.
Looking back, we were on the brink of being overtaken by the enemy's advance.
The Sabbatian forces were advancing at an unstoppable pace, and if we'd rested here, we might have been surrounded and annihilated once we exited the forest.
In such a situation, we had no choice but to push our exhausted bodies and keep moving forward.
***
Incidentally, we failed to rendezvous with any allied units within the forest.
As for the few remaining allied troops, most of them fled into the forest like us.
Some, however, chose to skip the forest entirely and made a dash across the plains to Marshdale.
They must have decided it was safer to run across the open plains, where they would be harder to catch if they could just break past the enemy line.
Alternatively, they may have decided to march across the plains after weighing the risks of getting lost in the forest due to a lack of scouts or the possibility of being attacked by animals.
There is no clear answer on which was the right choice.
Those who chose the plains reached Marshdale relatively quickly, though many were decimated trying to break past the enemy's line.
On the other hand, those who chose the forest took longer but arrived in Marshdale with more survivors.
However, even those who made it through the forest lost some to fatigue or going off course.
Platoon Leader Garback, confident in his ability to navigate the forest, likely chose the path he believed had the highest survival rate for us.
Finally, on the fifth day of our retreat, we emerged from the forest and reached the plains, where trade routes were more established.
At this time, the enemy's invasion line was only seven kilometers behind us, which put us in a very dangerous situation.
Fires blazed in distant villages, and injured civilians and soldiers alike trudged along the trade road toward Marshdale with pale faces.
We had escaped just in the nick of time.
"…To think I'd come to Marshdale under in a situation like this."
The fortress of Marshdale, a sight I'd glimpsed from afar in my childhood.
Marshdale is a city near my hometown of Noel, but I had never actually visited before.
Noel is a quiet countryside village, surrounded by fields with little else.
To an orphan in such a place, the city of Marshdale is a place of dreams.
I once spoke with my friends about how we'd eat at a nice restaurant in Marshdale and see a play someday.
Never did I imagine that my first visit to the city of my dreams would be like this.
"Just a little further. Let's go."
"Whoa, that village over there is burning."
"The enemy's advancing faster than I thought."
We need to stay sharp.
Today, I didn't come to Marshdale to play, I came to fight.
I couldn't afford to approach the city with a casual heart.
"Damn those Sabbatian soldiers… They're killing civilians without hesitation!"
"Calm down, Rodri."
I steeled my resolve and turned in the direction Rodri pointed, focusing on locating the enemy.
Up ahead, there was indeed a village on fire.
The distance was already quite close.
"…"
"What's up Shorty? Hurry up…"
The sight of the village burning made my mind go blank.
Maybe it was because this was a sight I'd unconsciously tried to avoid thinking about.
"Ah…."
The current location of the enemy.
In other words, the burning village he was pointing at was my hometown, Noel.
"Noel, but…"
There are no military supplies or anything like that in that city.
It was just home to a kind orphanage director and a few lively children.
Only fields of unappetizing potatoes and bitter vegetables stretch around it.
"…Noel, it's on fire!"
"Wait! Where are you going Shorty?!?"
Noel is burning.
In the shock of it, I almost forgot myself and started running toward Noel.
I might have actually started running if Rodri hadn't grabbed me by the shoulder.
"The enemy is attacking my hometown, Noel!"
"I see."
"Platoon Leader, we have to hurry up and go save them…! Everyone!"
Without thinking, I found myself pleading with Platoon Leader Garback.
I was panicking and couldn't think straight.
───A dull sound rang out.
A blunt impact hit my face right after I approached him.
The force of the impact knocked me to the ground, landing on my rear with the taste of blood flooding my mouth.
It seemed I had just been punched in the face by the Platoon Leader for the first time in a long while.
"Got a grip now?"
"…"
"Our retreat target is Marshdale. Let's go."
Though my vision was swimming and I felt dizzy, I managed to get to my feet.
The Platoon Leader looked down at me in silence.
"…"
The Platoon Leader is strong. He's practically unbeatable in close combat.
If it were him, maybe he could return to Noel and fend off the enemy.
The orphanage director, with his bad back, probably hasn't been able to get away.
The infants still in their cribs… they can't even try to escape.
But if we head to Noel right now, we might be able to help them─
"…Understood."
"Hmph."
"I apologize. I will repeat your orders: I will run towards Marshdale."
But part of my mind, cooled by that punch, knew.
There is no strategic value in our exhausted Garback Platoon risking our lives to rescue Noel.
And that leaving behind the people of my hometown, whom I might be able to save by running there right now, was the most rational choice.
"You managed to pull yourself together, Touri. Because of that, I'll overlook the fact that you're still glaring at me."
"…Thank you."
"Let's go then."
At the time, I was completely unaware, but it seems I had been glaring at the Platoon Leader.
I'm sure somewhere in my heart I was harboring the selfish wish that, "If only the Platoon Leader would go and rescue Noel, my hometown could be saved."
In the process of retreating, so many other villages were burned down.
To think I could protect only my hometown while others burned… was far too selfish.
This was simply my emotions getting to me after seeing my hometown on fire.
…My heart feels like it's going to burst.
I ran without looking back on the burning Noel.
Because if I looked back, I didn't trust myself not to start running toward it.
The main reason I decided to risk my life volunteering for the military and becoming a medic was to give back to the orphanage.
I wanted to give back even a little to the people in that place, who were the only family I had in this world.
"Ah…"
My throat was dry, my mouth parched.
Having gone three days without food, barely able to walk, no tears came to my eyes.
"ah, ahhh…"
The only sound that escaped my mouth was a low, hoarse groan.