The Immortal Genius Spearman

Chapter 115

Chapter 115

“...Ah.”

Paul could only let out a soft sigh upon seeing Damian.

He couldn’t find the words to explain the situation unfolding in front of him.

Watching Paul struggle to speak, Damian spoke first.

“It’s been a while. This is a labor camp, huh? Looks like you’ve gotten stronger,” Damian commented, glancing at Paul’s visible muscles through his worn clothes. His cheeks had hollowed, and his eyes had grown sharper.

Paul, still confused, asked, “...How did you get here?”

“How? I came to see you, of course.”

Damian grinned and turned to Zikli, who was standing nearby.

“I’m taking him with me. Is that alright?”

“...Fine. But remember, you’ll be responsible for everything that happens after this, Sergeant Damian,” Zikli replied, clearly not thrilled but unwilling to argue further.

“Understood,” Damian answered curtly before turning back to Paul.

“Pack your things. You’re leaving.”

“...What?”

Paul was stunned. Was it really that easy?

This was a labor camp, a place where prisoners were confined, not somewhere you just left without explanation. How had Damian managed to pull him out of here so effortlessly?

Zikli, on the other hand, gestured toward Paul with a frown, as if to tell him to hurry up and get lost.

“...Just a moment,” Paul said before heading to his quarters. He quickly gathered what little belongings he had and returned shortly after.

It wasn’t much — barely enough to call it packing.

With that, Damian and Paul left the coal mine camp together.

Unable to hold back any longer, Paul asked, “Sergeant Damian, what’s going on?”

“I told you, I came to take you.”

“But... does that mean you’re taking me back to your unit?”

“Yeah.”

Damian’s reply was short and direct, leaving Paul stunned.

“But my sentence isn’t over yet. I still have two more weeks here...”

“I know. You’re still serving your sentence. So, keep reflecting on your actions and feeling sorry,” Damian teased with a smirk.

“...”

Paul didn’t fully understand what was happening, but a small smile crept onto his lips.

Seeing the smile, Damian raised an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just... I can’t believe I’m seeing you again, Captain.”

Paul had often wondered whether his time in the Makstri unit was a dream and whether he’d ever stand beside Damian again. But now that Damian had come personally to retrieve him, how could he not be happy?

Damian, noticing Paul’s quiet joy, asked, “Have you stayed in touch with any of the others?”

“The others in the archer unit, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Paul scratched his head, unsure. Given his situation, it wasn’t like he had the chance to keep in contact with many people.

But then he remembered.

“Ah, do you remember Rex?”

“Rex?” Damian repeated, before nodding. “The short one?”

“Yes, that’s him. I spoke to him just before I ended up here.”

Rex had been one of the better archers in Paul’s unit. His small stature gave him an agility that complemented his exceptional archery skills.

Damian said, “Send him a message. Tell him to come to Valphate.”

“The unit is in Valphate?”

“Yes.”

Paul hesitated briefly before asking, “Did you come here just to get me?”

“No, you’re the last one,” Damian replied, giving Paul a light tap on the back.

Hearing this, Paul’s expression brightened.

“So the others...?”

“They’ve all been sent to Valphate already.”

“Are they all members of the unit now?”

Paul’s curiosity spilled out as he fired off questions, making Damian chuckle awkwardly.

“You sure have a lot of questions. You’ll find out when we get there—whether they can join us... or not.”

Damian immediately praised Dianal for his efforts over the past month.

Organizing and testing new recruits had been no easy task, something Damian knew well from his previous experiences.

Dianal, however, shook his head. “It was my duty, sir. But... who’s this?” he asked, glancing at Paul, who was standing behind Damian.

Damian introduced them. “This is the vice-captain of the Caion unit. If you join the unit, he’ll be your superior.”

“Paul,” he said simply, nodding. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Damian.”

In reality, Damian hadn’t said much, but Paul’s comment brought a smile to Dianal’s face.

“Nice to meet you.” Dianal extended his hand, and they shook.

Damian patted Dianal on the shoulder and said, “I’ll take care of some things. I’ll hear your report afterward.”

“Understood, sir.”

Leaving Dianal behind, Damian led Paul toward Leonhark’s office.

“Oh, you’re back!” Leonhark exclaimed, clearly pleased to see Damian.

He looked more exhausted than usual, with dark circles under his eyes—a sign that things had been rough in Damian’s absence.

Damian bowed his head slightly. “I’m sorry for leaving you with all the work...”

“Hmph, it would’ve been easier with you here, but what can we do?” Leonhark sighed. Despite the light tone, his words only added to Damian’s guilt.

Damian smiled awkwardly, then gestured to Paul. “Is this the man you brought?” Leonhark asked, eyeing Paul.

“Yes. He’s the same as the others I sent before. Speaking of which... How are they doing?”

Damian asked the question directly, knowing that Leonhark’s training wasn’t something anyone could survive through sheer willpower alone.

Even the best recruits could falter under Leonhark’s tough regimen. Only those with solid foundations could endure.

There was a slight tension in Damian’s voice as he awaited Leonhark’s response.

“Hmm... I was going to bring that up with you.”

“Please, tell me.”

“Where did you find men like this?”

“What do you mean...?”

The phrasing of “men like this” left Damian unsure if it was praise or criticism.

But then Leonhark gave him an uncharacteristically large smile.

“Come with me. It’s better if you see for yourself.”

Leonhark led Damian to the training ground.

The moment they stepped in—

“Uwaaah!”

Crash!

The clash of shields echoed loudly across the field, followed by a roar of exertion.

Damian turned his head toward the sound and saw Creon, wielding a sword and shield, locked in a fierce sparring session.

Damian commented, “His opponent looks solid.”

“They’re both good. It’s a one-on-one sparring match, and they’re going hard,” Leonhark replied.

Creon’s sparring partner was Kyle, another strong fighter in the unit.

Unlike Creon, who was raw power, Kyle had experience and technique that set him apart.

Naturally, the difference between them was significant.

“Come on, hit me harder!” Kyle yelled, taunting Creon as he raised his sword for a strike.

“Hraaaah!” Creon responded with a loud shout, swinging his sword with all his might, aiming to break through Kyle’s shield.

Clang!

But Kyle easily deflected the blow with his shield and even managed to trip Creon’s foot in the process.

Stumble!

Creon wobbled but quickly twisted his body and leaped backward, creating some distance between them.

“...Huh?”

Kyle blinked, surprised by Creon’s agility. The improvement from just the day before was noticeable, and Kyle couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed.

At that moment, one of the soldiers noticed Damian.

“The captain has returned!” he shouted.

Kyle paused his sparring and turned toward Damian. “Captain!”

“Keep up the good work,” Damian said, approaching him.

“So, what do you think?” Damian asked Kyle.

“About these guys?” Kyle grinned, looking at Creon, who was still catching his breath from the sparring.

“They’re shaping up nicely.”

A small smile formed on Damian’s lips at Kyle’s words.