I Tricked a God

The measured footsteps of two people echoed through the corridor.

Morkroft and Kael walked calmly through the Doomgrin Squad's headquarters, making their way toward Kael's new room.

After the commotion on the training ground, it was noticeably quieter here. Only now and then did voices, laughter, or dull thuds drift through the doors, as though someone was still training inside the building.

Feeling a hint of tension, Kael sighed inwardly. “If it weren't for my perfect memory, there's no way I'd remember all their names...”

With that thought, the events of half an hour earlier resurfaced in his mind.

The moment Morkroft declared the sparring match over, an entire crowd had gathered around Kael almost instantly.

Before one person had even finished introducing themselves, another interrupted with a question. A third was shouting something from behind him, while a fourth was trying to explain why their own ability was the most useful in the entire squad.

Considering that nearly every member of the Doomgrin Squad had their own peculiar quirks, after only a few minutes Kael had begun to feel as though he was being dragged into a dozen different conversations at once.

“Thankfully, the Captain took me to look around the building and ordered everyone else back to their duties...” Kael thought, recalling how perfectly timed Morkroft's command had been.

Turning his head slightly, he glanced back over his shoulder, once again surveying the corridor.

“The building is bigger on the inside than it looks from the outside...” he added inwardly. “It even has its own workshops...”

During their short walk, they had already passed a forge, where the ringing of metal echoed through the halls, an alchemy workshop, and even a spacious inscribers' workshop. Inside, an exceptionally pale young woman with faint bluish hair worked in detached silence.

Kael never finished the thought.

“How much do you know about the rules here? And about MMP?” Morkroft asked unexpectedly.

Turning toward the Captain, Kael answered calmly, “I was told a few things on the way to the camp. But I'm not sure I fully understand everything.”

Morkroft merely nodded.

“Don't clutter your head with unnecessary details. Every squad has its own rules and arrangements.”

As he spoke, he turned toward Kael while walking and studied him carefully.

“Judging by your evaluation, you've attracted the interest of three Archmagisters. I have to admit, that's practically a miracle.”

Without even attempting to be modest, Kael replied calmly, “To be honest, I wasn't thinking about the front or the war at all in the beginning. My focus was on the crafting disciplines.”

Morkroft only smirked, scratching the back of his neck as he said, “Considering your unique combat abilities, I can't leave you in the rear. You'll be extremely useful on the battlefield.”

For several seconds, he fell silent, as though replaying the recent sparring match in his mind.

“It's embarrassing to admit,” he muttered, “but I didn't even know long-range weight-manipulation magic existed...”

Almost immediately, however, the Captain shook his head and returned to the subject of craftsmanship.

“But burying your talent in other fields would be just as foolish.”

Slowing his pace slightly until he was walking beside Kael, Morkroft raised one hand in front of him and tapped the palm with his index finger.

“Every squad member contributes one-tenth of the MMP they earn to the benefit of the squad.”

Kael nodded calmly.

“I've heard about that.”

“Well then,” Morkroft continued as he resumed walking. “No one works for free here. You can make elixirs, pills, or various types of inscriptions for the squad. Every one of those services will be paid for out of the squad treasury.”

That development pleasantly surprised Kael.

Until now, he had expected to hear anything—even that he would be expected to help his comrades without compensation—but this approach seemed far more reasonable.

“And what about promotions?” he asked immediately. “Only the MMP earned from missions counts toward advancement, right?”

Morkroft shook his head slightly.

“Not exactly.”

With that, he turned down another branch of the corridor and, after only a few more steps, stopped in front of one of the doors.

Its surface was engraved with a complex magic circle that covered almost the entire door.

Sweeping his eyes across it, Kael immediately recognized several familiar elements, noting inwardly, “Something like a lock that activates a protective seal...”

Turning toward Kael, Morkroft waved a hand and took a small metal token from his spatial ring.

It was shaped like a coin, but instead of a coat of arms or the army's emblem, its surface bore a sinister grin. Kael immediately realized, “This is a Doomgrin Squad token...”

Holding the token out to him, Morkroft said, “Hector has already entered you into the squad registry. Channel your mana into it, and the token will bind itself to you.”

Without asking any unnecessary questions, Kael accepted the token and immediately followed the Captain's instructions.

The moment a thin stream of mana flowed into the metal, the token glowed softly for an instant.

At the same time, Kael felt something strange, as though a faint connection had formed between him and the token.

“A magical artifact...” Kael noted inwardly. “Considering the cost of a token like this, it must have a broader range of functions. It's unlikely to be just an identification badge...”

Lowering his gaze, he noticed runes slowly appearing above the engraved grin near the rim.

They flared into existence one after another, as though someone were branding them into the metal with invisible fire. A few seconds later, they settled into a neat inscription: “Recruit.”

The next moment, Morkroft calmly took Kael's hand and turned it so that he could see the reverse side of the token.

“Channel your mana into it again,” he instructed.

Without questioning him, Kael once more sent a stream of mana into the artifact.

Almost immediately, new lines began to emerge on the smooth metal surface.

The first inscription read: “Promotion after 1000 MMP.”

Directly beneath it, a second line appeared a moment later: “Balance: 0 MMP.”

Looking over the runes, Kael noticed that they weren't engraved. Instead, they seemed to be formed by the token's own magic as he watched.

“Convenient,” Kael thought. “It looks like all earned MMP is credited directly to the mage, while the token simply displays the balance.”

At that moment, the Captain's voice interrupted his thoughts.

“That's why no one carries separate ledgers or reports,” Morkroft said with a smirk, releasing his hand. “Most fighters check their balance several times a day. Especially after a successful sortie.”

The Captain fell silent for a few seconds, as though recalling their earlier conversation, then looked back at Kael.

“As for your question about promotion... First, tell me what you know about the rank system in the Scarlet Serpent Army.”

Kael nodded obediently, still studying the reverse side of the token.

“Every useful action in the army earns MMP, but missions aren't the only way to earn it.”

Turning the token over in his fingers slightly, he continued, “Trading with other soldiers, providing various services, helping your comrades, or even gambling... all of those can also earn MMP.”

His gaze settled once more on the newly appeared runes.

“To advance from the rank of Recruit to the rank of Junior Serpent, I need to earn one thousand MMP. However, only merit earned through missions and military service counts toward rank advancement. A soldier's personal wealth has no effect on promotion.”

After finishing, Kael looked up at Morkroft.

“At least, that's how it was explained to me on the way here.”

Morkroft nodded in satisfaction.

“Exactly. Rank measures only your actual usefulness.”

As he spoke, he placed a hand on Kael's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, as though emphasizing the importance of his next words.

“That's precisely why your contributions to the squad and your work to strengthen it will also count.”

Kael's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“So if I make elixirs for the squad, I can also earn a promotion?”

“Yes,” Morkroft confirmed. “But I'll say it again: only genuine contributions count.”

Removing his hand from Kael's shoulder, he nodded toward the token resting in Kael's palm.

“Trading personal belongings and valuables that you brought to the front with you doesn't count. Otherwise, it would create far too convenient a loophole for the offspring of wealthy families.”

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A faint smirk appeared on the Captain's face.

“Just imagine the son of some famous alchemist arriving at the front with a hundred valuable elixirs and pills. After selling all his possessions, he could reach a rank in just a few days that others spend years earning.”

Taking the token from Kael's hand and pressing it against the center of the magical circle, Morkroft waited until the runes on the door flared with a soft light.

A chain of glowing lines immediately raced across the wooden surface. A quiet click sounded from within, and the door slowly swung open.

Handing the token back to Kael, the Captain stepped inside first and continued speaking: “That said, crafting has its own restrictions and rules.”

“What kind?” Kael asked as he followed him inside.

“The army has standardized the amount of MMP that counts toward rank advancement,” Morkroft explained. “Everything is calculated based on the complexity and type of the product you create or the service you provide.”

As he entered, Kael noticed that his new room was fairly simple. Aside from a bed, a table, and a small wardrobe, there was almost nothing inside.

“It fits the spirit of the entire building...” Kael thought. “Still, this is far better than living in a tent camp.”

Morkroft continued his explanation: “If you brew the most basic healing elixir, the Doomgrin Squad will pay you five MMP. But only two MMP will count toward your rank advancement.”

Taking out his own token and tapping it lightly, Morkroft clarified, “That way, your wealth and your rank advancement progress at slightly different rates. Or rather, they're two parallel processes.”

“So does that mean I'll only receive three MMP that I can spend?” Kael asked, slightly confused.

“No,” Morkroft immediately corrected him. “You'll receive five MMP to spend, and another two MMP toward your rank. Like I said, they're two parallel processes.”

“Then why not use different names for them?” Kael asked.

Morkroft merely laughed and replied in a lecturing tone, “The army likes simplicity. If something can be simplified, it will be simplified. Besides, it's a very old system, and no one intends to change it.”

Then, patting Kael on the shoulder, Morkroft added with an oddly unsettling smile, “Don't overthink it. Fate will manage just fine without your help...”

The tone made Kael tense slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“Tomorrow we'll begin working on your promotion,” Morkroft replied matter-of-factly. “You'll see everything in practice and understand the army's MMP system much faster.”

At that statement, Kael even parted his lips, intending to ask something, but the Captain didn't give him the chance.

Walking over to the window and glancing outside, he continued explaining. Judging by his tone, it was hard to tell whether this was still an introduction or already an order.

“A small beastfolk squad has set up camp in a quiet area and even erected a barrier. We need to conduct reconnaissance and observe them.”

Squinting slightly, Morkroft tapped a finger against the window frame.

“My intuition tells me they're preparing something. That means we need to get ahead of them and learn the enemy's plans before they make their move.”

Listening to him, Kael felt a slight stab of unease.

“My second day, and already a mission?” he thought, trying to keep his expression calm. “They're not even going to give me time to prepare?”

But somehow, Morkroft once again seemed to sense what he was thinking.

“Don't worry,” the Captain said calmly, looking back over his shoulder. “Your comrades will handle the main work. You'll simply observe and learn.”

At those words, some of Kael's unease faded.

“His methods are harsh, but not reckless...” he thought.

Heading for the door, Morkroft grasped the handle and, as he opened it, added, “Reconnaissance is one of the most important parts of our work. Remember that.”

Then the Captain suddenly let out a raspy laugh.

For some reason, that laughter gave Kael a very bad feeling.

“Once we find out what they're planning, we'll be able to destroy the enemy quickly and without mercy,” Morkroft continued with a perfectly calm expression. “And I'll personally make sure you earn your baptism of fire with the enemy's blood on your hands.”

At that, Kael could only manage a wry smile, muttering inwardly, “Perhaps I reached my conclusions too quickly...”

As though not noticing his reaction, Morkroft merely waved a hand and, closing the door behind him, said, “It's not mandatory, but if you feel like it, come to the pavilion for dinner this evening.”

With those words, the door shut.

A quiet click echoed through the room, and the magical circle on the wood flared with a soft light once more, sealing itself and returning to its original state.

Silence settled over the room for several seconds.

Kael stood still for a moment, unconsciously listening to it.

After the noise of the courtyard, meeting the squad, sparring with Lumi, and his conversation with Morkroft, the quiet felt almost unfamiliar.

Before long, however, he let out a weary sigh. Taking a few steps forward, he simply flopped onto the bed.

“So much happened in a single day...” he muttered, closing his eyes. “My head's still buzzing...”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Kael mentally went over the events of the past few hours once again.

Only that morning he had arrived in the frontline city, and now he had already met the Doomgrin Squad, gotten his own room, and learned that tomorrow he would be leaving on his first mission.

“It's too early to draw conclusions...” he said quietly, staring at the ceiling. “But judging by what I've seen, my assignments won't be as frequent or as important as Lipa's.”

Then he continued inwardly, “Which means I'll have more free time to train and practice my crafts...”

As the tension that had built up throughout the day gradually faded, he thought, “For now, that's enough...”

Rolling his shoulders a little, he chuckled softly.

“All right... First things first, I need to survive at least a week here. No point getting ahead of myself...”

With those words, Kael settled more comfortably onto the bed, deciding to get some rest at last and finally give his mind a break from everything that had happened.

✦ ✦ ✦

Evening came rather quickly.

The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, and magical crystals throughout the military camp had already lit up, bathing the streets in an even glow and leaving almost no corner in darkness.

High overhead, the protective mana barrier shimmered faintly, with the star-filled night sky visible beyond it.

Somewhere far to the south, bright flashes flared from time to time, and a few seconds later, the muffled rumble of explosions and the distant roar of battle reached the camp.

Yet no one paid it any attention. It had long since become just another part of everyday life for the soldiers.

Within the enclosed grounds of the Doomgrin Squad, however, the atmosphere was positively lively.

Hanging lanterns illuminated the open pavilion, while the long, heavy table was crowded with dishes of food, pitchers of drink, and large shared platters that filled the air with the appetizing aroma of roasted meat and spices.

Members of the squad sat on the benches, chatting among themselves, arguing, laughing, and occasionally raising their mugs.

Despite the noise, however, there were not that many people gathered.

A quick glance around the pavilion made it clear that only part of the Doomgrin Squad was present.

Some of those Kael had seen earlier that day at the training ground were absent as well.

The handsome silver-haired man lounged on a bench, lazily twirling a mug between his fingers. Suddenly, he let out a disappointed sigh.

“Where's Grendy? He never skips a feast...”

Hector immediately burst out laughing. Leaning back against the edge of the table and taking another drink from his mug, he said cheerfully, “Don't worry, Norvin. Magpie complained to the Captain, so Grendy got ordered to brew potions.”

Chuckles immediately rippled around the table, while Magpie merely snorted in annoyance, clearly having no intention of admitting the accusation.

Morkroft simply smiled and added calmly, “It's all right. Perhaps Kael will soon lighten the burden a little.”

Hearing that, Norvin raised his eyebrows in surprise and even looked away from his mug.

“No way... The kid's still completely green.”

This time Morkroft did not answer immediately.

For several seconds he simply swirled his mug, as though replaying the day's events in his mind once again. Then he narrowed his eyes slightly and said thoughtfully, “I'm not so sure about that...”

At those words, the conversation around the table grew noticeably quieter.

Even those who had been absorbed in their own conversations found themselves listening in. The Captain rarely spoke about recruits in such a tone.

Morkroft simply shook his head and continued calmly, “He's definitely a green kid, but... there's something strange about him. Something even I can't explain.”

At that very moment, Kael's voice suddenly came from somewhere near the entrance: “There's something strange about me? Every one of you has something strange about you!”

Silence fell over the table for several seconds.

Then Hector threw up his hands in triumph, as though he'd been waiting for exactly that.

“So you did come, Kael!”

Without wasting a second, he immediately sprang into action, nudging his mug aside with an elbow before unceremoniously shoving Norvin sideways with his hip.

“Move over a little.”

“What the—”

“Come sit over here!” Hector called out to Kael. “I'll make room for you!”

With those words, he quickly turned toward a small table behind him where clean dishes had been stacked. Grabbing the first plate and set of utensils he found, he immediately placed them beside himself.

While all the commotion continued around him, Kael merely let out a weary sigh and walked over to the table.

Norvin looked as though he wanted to protest, but in the end he only clicked his tongue in annoyance and shifted over a little.

Squeezing in between him and Hector, Kael sat down on the bench and, sweeping his gaze over those gathered, couldn't help noticing that almost everyone was now looking at him.

At that moment, the burly man with short green hair suddenly leaned forward from the opposite side of the table.

Stretching over the dishes and mugs, he held out a hand to Kael.

“I'm Branner.”

Kael simply shook his hand with a wry smile. “I know. You already introduced yourself a few hours ago.”

Branner nodded calmly, as though that made no difference whatsoever, then, without the slightest transition, asked the question that, judging by the interested looks around the table, wasn't on his mind alone.

“Why does the Captain think you're strange? What's your secret?”

At the question, Kael could only let out a heavy sigh.

Apparently, what Morkroft had said had already piqued the curiosity of half the table.

Then an idea suddenly struck Kael: “Right… That's actually the perfect cover...”

Leaning forward slightly and looking around at everyone seated at the table, Kael unexpectedly asked, “How quickly does news reach this place?”

Several people exchanged puzzled glances at the sudden change of topic.

Without waiting for an answer, Kael immediately continued, “Have you heard that an expedition from the Scholars' Guild crossed the Central Dragon Mountains and found the descendants of the ancient refugees?”

The moment he said that, almost everyone at the table visibly perked up.

Several people immediately exchanged looks, someone let out a surprised whistle, and Lumi, who was sitting nearby, even looked up from her food for the first time that evening.

Only Morkroft remained completely composed, as though the news was nothing new to him.

Hector merely grunted and, after taking a sip, replied, “I've heard those rumors. If you ask me, they're made-up nonsense.”

Kael unexpectedly laughed.

“You just called my homeland made-up nonsense.”

For the first time, the smile on Hector's face faltered.

Branner frowned, shifting his gaze between Hector and Kael, while Norvin actually rose slightly from the bench, staring at the recruit as though trying to figure out whether he was joking or serious.

“Kael...” the archer said slowly. “Are you trying to say that...”

But Kael had already reached for the nearest pitcher.

Calmly filling his goblet with wine and watching the dark red liquid splash against its sides, he finished evenly, “Exactly.”

Setting the pitcher back on the table, he took a small sip before continuing, “I arrived in the Empire only a few months ago. Before that, we lived without even knowing whether any human civilizations had survived the ancient catastrophe.”

Complete silence immediately fell over the table.

Caught completely off guard by the revelation, Hector shot to his feet and shouted, “What?! How many more secrets are you hiding, kid?!”

And that was all it took for everyone else to start firing questions at him.

Questions immediately flew at him from every direction. Some demanded that he tell them about his homeland. Others wanted to know what lay beyond the Central Dragon Mountains. Still others were already trying to find out just how different the people on the other side of the ancient barrier were.

Even the little blacksmith girl suddenly leaned across the table and asked eagerly, “Is your unusual magic from there too? Are there many people in your homeland who can do things like that?”

“Exactly!” someone beside her immediately chimed in. “I was thinking the same thing!”

“So that's where your fighting style comes from,” a voice called from the other side of the table. “No matter how hard I tried to remember, I couldn't think of a single family with techniques like yours.”

“At least now it makes sense why the Captain called you strange.”

Watching the idea visibly take root in everyone's minds, Kael smiled inwardly.

“Not a bad excuse... If they come to believe it on their own, even better.”

Outwardly, however, instead of explaining, he simply reached for the nearest platter of meat and, smiling, said, “I'll tell you everything. But first, let me eat in peace...”