There was another figure that caught Derek's eye—one he hadn't expected to see, especially not here, of all places. That dark, unruly hair, those obnoxiously perfect white teeth—he'd seen them too many times in the hallways of Paleview High. He couldn't forget that face if he tried. But seeing it now, smeared with dirt, screaming in fury while swinging an axe in the middle of a battlefield... it made Derek pause, squint, and briefly wonder if he'd been yanked into the wrong novel.

In a squad of five, a tall, dark-haired youth was fighting on the front lines. He gripped a scuffed D-Class Axe with both hands, swinging with wild, brutal efficiency. His expression was fierce—no, not quite fearless. There was fear, buried deep in his eyes, but it was hidden well beneath something far stronger: rage. Blistering, unrelenting rage. It didn't make him sloppy—it made him dangerous.

Yvalna, sharp-eyed as always, noticed Derek's sudden focus and arched a brow. "Do you know him?"

Derek's eyes didn't move. "No," he said simply.

It was a lie, and Yvalna probably knew it. But she didn't press.

Derek took out his comm device and opened a private channel to one of the soldiers stationed in A.R.D.

"I need intel on one of the new recruits. Name: Caster Blake," he said, keeping his voice neutral.

The soldier on the other end hesitated for a moment, clearly puzzled as to why the commander himself was digging into a rookie's file—but followed protocol and accessed the data.

"Sending it through now, sir," the soldier said, before forwarding the requested information.

Derek's gaze flicked down to the small display screen on his device. A photo appeared first—fresher than he remembered, but still the same kid beneath it all. Then came the text.

"Parents killed during the first major wave of monster attacks in the southern zone," he muttered to himself. "Survivor. No prior combat training. Joined after the Paleview evacuation."

He sighed, low and quiet, and closed the comm link. "Thanks," he added as an afterthought before slipping the device away. Yvalna gave him a sidelong look, more curious now, but Derek ignored it and turned his attention back to the battlefield.

There, Caster fought like a man possessed—his axe cleaving through limbs and chitin, his roars nearly matching the monsters'. He wasn't just trying to kill. He was trying to make something bleed for the things he'd lost.

Derek watched in silence.

"Caster Blake..."

"I never thought the high school bully who used to shove me into lockers, who turned my life into a series of bad memories, would end up here—on the same battlefield as me, facing monsters strong enough to tear a man in half without blinking.

He used to chase power in all the wrong ways. Bullies like him, they feared those stronger than them... and took it out on those who couldn't fight back. That's what power meant to him. That's what I thought he'd always be."

"But maybe..." Derek's jaw tightened. "...maybe something changed. Maybe watching your parents die rips the cowardice right out of you. Or maybe it just gave him something scarier to hate than a kid smaller than him."

He didn't say any of it aloud, but the weight of those thoughts hung in the air around him.

Anyway, he snapped out of it quickly. Being philosophical was the luxury of nobles; he might have turned rich overnight, but he never even had the chance to properly enjoy it.

The battlefield was still chaotic, but with Yvalana's aid, none of the recruits were dead...yet, however, as the battle progressed, their steps and attacks became more efficient...it was not elegant or refined, and certainly not beautiful to look at, but their attacks had become more dangerous and coordinated, they instinctively aimed for the weak spots of monsters.

In the past, it took about a minute for a Squad to eliminate one Class D monster; a Class C monster would have been game over for them, but with healing from Yvalana in the distance, they could take about 10 minutes. The Genesis Squad also aided them, dispatching hordes of monsters so the recruits were not overwhelmed.

But Derek knew it would not last long, there was a hidden S-rank beast that was guiding these beasts toward the city.

Derek did not know how strong an S ranked beast was, but it should be insanely strong.

After even the A-rank Broodmother had been a big headache for him, but it was not impossible to kill one. If he and Yvalna cooperated, they had a higher chance, but there could be no interference, the Horde could not be allowed to intefer in the fight, that's why training the recuits was very important.

[ You have levelled up, Level 23 -> 24 ]

[ All attributes increased by 10. You've obtained 5 attribute points.]

" Wait, I remember I needed 4 million EXP to level up...how many hours has it been...this soldier farming system is too scary "

It had been several hours since the battle began, the whole place was littered with the huge corpses of the beasts, with no place to stand, though the recruits had barley no injuries or rather all their injuries were constantly healed, they were exhausted to their bones.

" Hmm...such good farmers, I cant afford to loose any of them " He thought with delight, after pulling out his comm, he gave the command to have them retreat whilen the Genesis Squad covered their retreat.

The Squad swung into motion, giving the orders for retreat.

From the crumbling rooftop of a building, Derek watched the recruits fall back in staggered squads, their silhouettes weaving through smoke and ruins. The sun had begun to dip behind the blood-tinted clouds, casting long shadows over a battlefield strewn with broken bodies—human and monster alike.

The Genesis Squad moved like wraiths at the edges, striking down stragglers and intercepting any beast bold enough to chase. They were the scalpel. The blunt force had been the recruits. And now, those recruits were limping back, bruised and bloody, but far from broken.

"They're improving," Yvalna said beside him, arms folded, herrobes stained in more hues of red than she cared to count. Her tone was unreadable. Not praise. Not doubt. Just observation.

Derek leaned against the rusted ledge, his eyes sharp despite the exhaustion clinging to his body.

"They're not dead," he muttered. "That's already more than I expected."

A pack of quadrupedal Class D beasts tried to ambush the retreating line from a collapsed overpass. Derek didn't even blink. One sharp gesture, and a flash of plasma from a Genesis Squad member turned them into wet stains on concrete.

Yvalna arched a brow. "So… you do care."

He snorted. "I care about not losing my investment."

"Mm-hm," she said, thinking he was refering to the eqipments he had provided.

Below, the last squad of recruits was dragging themselves across the field, a girl practically carrying a boy twice her size, both barely staying upright. Another limped forward on one foot, using a snapped halberd as a crutch.

The reinforced gates slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing like a final heartbeat. The recruits stumbled into the outer courtyard of the inner city's last-standing defense zone—Zone Zeta. Triage tents flapped in the wind, hastily erected among half-demolished buildings and arcane warding towers that pulsed with a faint blue hue.

Some of the newer recruits dropped to their knees the moment they crossed the threshold, gasping, coughing, retching from exhaustion. Others leaned on comrades, their eyes glazed—not from injury, but from the sheer overload of survival. Bloodied armor clinked with every movement, boots dragged across broken pavement.

A medic dashed forward. "Anyone unconscious? Get them into the tent now!"

"No—he's still breathing!" shouted a girl, hauling her squadmate onto a stretcher. "He just hasn't blinked in ten minutes!"

Suddenly there was a loud thundering sound behind them, everyone turned backwards to see a bolt of lightning illuminating the sky.

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