“Alma, I’m putting you and Seira in different squadrons.”
“...Huh?” Alma stood in shock, dumbfounded by Commander Bolton’s announcement.
When we had gone to the commander’s office to report that Seira and Alma had returned, he had welcomed them both back in with open arms. Alma had felt relieved and assumed that everything had gone perfectly—which made the man’s words a complete slap in the face.
“Hold on! Why are you splitting us into separate squadrons? I’m the commander of Lady Seira’s Royal Guard! That should put me by her side at all times, shouldn’t it?!”
“You may be her personal bodyguard when you’re in Sorcera, but right now, the two of you are both just plain guards. As your commander, it’s up to me to decide where to place you. Not only that—”
“Not only that?”
“Well, we’re shorthanded. I can’t really do anything about it.”
Commander Bolton had to have known all along she’d be dead set against the idea. Grouchily, he lit up his cigar and continued his thought. “And we’re especially short on people who’ve got what it takes to command troops—the type I’d be able to trust to lead a squadron. Not just anybody can handle directing large groups of soldiers like that. You’ve gotta have the right skills and the right experience. On that note, considering that you used to work as commander of Seira’s Royal Guard, I think you’d be a perfect fit.”
“Hmmm. You might be right about that...” Alma mulled.
The commander exhaled a puff of smoke, then put his cigar out in the ashtray. “I definitely don’t just say that to anyone. I’m saying it to you because I’ve got full confidence in your talent. I want you to take command of some of our guards as a squad sergeant.”
“W-Well, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad.”
Having been showered with words of praise, Alma seemed rather pleased; she was grinning from ear to ear, failing miserably at hiding the gleeful expression plastered across her face.
Having people recognize her talent certainly made her happy—way happier than anyone else I knew.
“Man, what a pushover,” Spinoza groaned.
“She’s the type who would get suckered in by someone’s sweet talk, then absolutely fleeced,” Fam murmured.
“Alma is just very honest about her feelings,” Seira asserted.
Each of the members of the Fifth had to share their feelings on the situation.
“S-Still, even if I take the squad sergeant position, I can’t accept being separated from Lady Seira. I want you to put her in my squadron too,” Alma insisted.
“Sorry, no can do,” Commander Bolton informed her.
“Why not?!”
“We take Seira out of the Fifth Squadron, and Sieg’s probably gonna die of an ulcer before too long. He needs someone who can calm those troublemakers down.”
“But...!”
“I’ll be fine, Alma,” Seira assured her. “I can protect myself just fine. Please, I want you to do whatever you can to help out the royal capital.” She offered Alma a smile. “Besides, isn’t it amazing that you’re being entrusted with a squadron of your own? As both your lady and your colleague, I’m very proud of you!”
“Don’t you worry about Seira,” the commander added. “She’s got Sieg with her. Isn’t that right?” He looked at me expectantly.
“I’ll take on the responsibility of protecting Seira,” I promised. “You can rest easy, Alma.”
“Well...I do have faith when it comes to your defense power,” she admitted, nodding to herself reluctantly. “Very well. Please take care of Lady Seira for me.”
“I sure will.”
“I guess if anything happens to Seira now, it’s gonna turn into some kinda international incident, huh,” Spinoza chuckled.
I fell silent at her wisecrack. It really was a massive responsibility—we had a princess of Sorcera in our care.
“Please try not to worry about it, Sarge,” Seira assured me. “I came here of my own volition. There’s no need to feel like you’re the one responsible if anything bad happens.”
“No, as a sergeant, it’s my responsibility to protect the people under me—not just you, but the entire squadron. Nothing bad is going to happen to any of my comrades on my watch.”
“Oooh, you’re such a badass. I’m gettin’ all hot ’n’ bothered here.”
“Just what I’d expect from the only man I’ve deemed worthy enough to trust my back to.”
Spinoza and Fam had to get in their commentary.
“And now you’re making fun of me,” I said with a sigh.
Seira giggled. “I honestly thought it was cool.” I felt a bit of embarrassment well up inside me, which she met with her charming gaze.
“Looks like the old Fifth Squadron’s back in action.” Commander Bolton, who had been watching, put on a bold smirk. “Anyway, enough about that,” he went on, lighting another cigar. “Right now, the Guard Corps has a huge problem.”
“The run-down dorms?” I asked.
“The disgusting food, I bet,” Spinoza guessed.
“Maybe the terrible manners of the guards?” Fam offered.
“Those are all problems, but it’s something else,” the commander replied, frustrated at the litany of other issues that came flooding out. He moved on to reveal the problem at hand. “The Guard Corps is suffering from the worst shortage of manpower we’ve ever had.”
“Even with Seira and Alma back on the force?” I asked.
“Yeah. Even with them, we’re still coming up short. It’s all because of the fight with those demons Gregor let in, and of course the battle with Sorcera. Honestly, we’d take any help we could get right now—and we’re especially low on people at the squad sergeant level. Sure would be nice to have someone else who could keep this pack of mutts in order.”
“Have you been putting out any job postings?” I asked.
“Of course we have—but we still aren’t getting diddly-squat. Hey, why do you guys think nobody wants to apply to be a guard?”
“The dismal pay.”
“The demanding schedule.”
“The dirty, dangerous work.”
Silence filled the air. The atmosphere in the room seemed to indicate that everybody agreed. Demanding, dirty, dangerous, dismal pay—the four Ds were all right there. The saying might’ve gone that “Somebody’s gotta do it,” but that didn’t mean anyone was going to apply willingly. About the only ones we could expect were people with nowhere else to go, or people with really strange taste in jobs.
“Now that I think about it, it’s a damn miracle you ever showed up, Sieg.” Commander Bolton let out a sigh. “Look, do any of you know anyone at all who’s got some decent skills? If so, bring ’em on over. The way things are right now, we can’t even put up a proper defensive fight.”
“You’ve got us, don’t ya? You sayin’ you don’t trust us?” Spinoza spat.
“Oh, I definitely trust your skills—probably more than anyone out there. But no matter how you look at it, putting the fate of all of humanity on the shoulders of a single squadron is just plain crazy,” the commander said. “Even I think it’s a bad idea to be stuck constantly relying on you guys. If I can find some way to lighten your load, you bet your ass I’m gonna do it.”
“You can start by givin’ us a raise, then.”
“Believe me, if I can, I will.”
“That sounds a hell of a lot like a ‘no’ to me,” Spinoza grumbled in annoyance.
While we were short on manpower, that naturally meant each of us had a larger workload—which would no doubt make things that much more dangerous.
“I guess we should probably help out however we can,” I said. “For our own sake as much as everyone else’s.”