Reincarnated as the Demon King's Son

Aldred was disappointed that he did not do much to help. If he wasn't freezing in fear earlier, he could have helped more. If he'd controlled his undead, he could have helped his ally when Pressure Platoon I tried to sabotage their operation.

Suddenly, the enemy army roared for a retreat. The left-wing had been penetrated and rounded to the back of the enemy. That made them panic and in disarray.

The army did not chase them as they ran to the west. Their target was the outpost located south of the border between Ceraisian and Montcresia. They arrived. The outpost was a small fort, defended by a short wall. There was no one there, so the magician quickly blasted the gates with fireballs.

The soldiers cheered and stormed. Destroying any structures they can and pillage the supplies. The supplies contained food, armor, and weapons. There was also some medicine useful for first-aid should there be no healers nearby.

After an hour of pillaging, the army retreated with as many supplies as they could. As they return, Aldred noticed that the soldiers were picking up something from the enemies' bodies that littered the battlefield. Bartrem and his men also do it.

"Go on, Aldred. Take something as a memento. In the future, you can tell your kids or grandkids about your battle."

Aldred nodded. Even though he was uncomfortable near the dead body, he still do it. He took a necklace from a man. It was a locket with a heart shape engraved with beautiful carvings.

Bartrem nodded at him and invited him to walk along with them. The battle was short, but intensive nonetheless.

Soon, they arrived at Ruandeurtin. His comrades groaned in pain because of their wounds. It looked so terrible, but they did not whine about it, just a slight groan. These guys were true soldiers. Aldred wondered if he could hold the pain of such a nasty wound.

After they passed the bridge over the river, Bartrem told them to return to the barracks. They did not enter the barrack, instead, they lay down on the grass.

Bartrem pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small container. The man rotated the lid, and pull it open. He dipped his fingers onto the cream and smeared it onto the wound.

The soldier gritted their teeth. He must be in so much pain.

"Hold it, soldier."

Bartrem looked at their wounds. Most of them were on the shoulders. Luckily, it wasn't that fatal. He took a closer look at the armor and noticed that the shoulders were thinner than they looked. That was not supposed to happen. Even though a squire wore less armor than a knight, it should not be as thin as a cloth.

He clicked his tongue. These soldiers were lucky the wound wasn't that deep or they might lose their arms.

"Bring your armor to the blacksmith and get some rest."

The soldiers stood up with a groan.

Bartrem set his gaze on Joseph and Jeffery. Both of them did terribly on the battlefield.

"Joseph, Jeffery. Both of you need to train your swords more."

Joseph looked down while Jeffery nodded.

He did not want to say it because both of them were quite hardworking, but he had to pressure them more. Their talents were very mediocre, so even though they worked harder than the rest, they still did terribly in using the swords.

"The rest of you go get some rest. We will practice at noon."

Aldred sat down by himself and checked his status. His level increased exponentially after that battle.

———

[Aldred]

Health Points: 40/40

Level: 19

Titles: Depressed boy

Power:

-Fireball: Lv. 1

-Flame Jet: Lv. 1

Attributes:

-Strength: 8

Vitality: 8

-Intelligence: 2

-Dexterity: 4

Stat points: 34

Skill points: 34

———

Wow. Ignoring the title, he got a lot of experience during that battle. It was just a single battle yet his level increased five times. What would he do with all these stat points? He had to put them somewhere. Since he had flame jet and fireball shouldn't he increase intelligence instead? Strength and vitality could be trained with physical exercise and those were easier to do compared to studying.

'With more intelligence, will my undead become stronger?'

[The user's undead will become slightly smarter. If the user is smart enough, the undead might be as smart if not smarter than a human]

So he can have smart undead? Aldred imagined his undead doing math in his room. He laughed to himself. Maybe he could tell them to invent a technology from earth if they became smart enough.

[Intelligence does not increase creativity]

Did that mean his undead could not become the next Einstein?

[No]

Well crap. That was disappointing. Imagine if he had an army of Einstein or a thousand Napoleon. Each one of those undeads could become the most valuable treasure for a nation. One to lead an army, and one to invent technology.

Sadly that wasn't the case. Intelligence did not equal creativity. Being smart only let you understand complex concepts much easier while creating or solving problem required creativity.

Enough about that. Aldred wanted to consider what stat to increase. Intelligence was a must. But what about skill? Which skill should he increase? Fireball or Flame Jet.

Flame Jet gave him a close-range magic attack, and also great mobility since he can fly with it. The control was hard though so he needed to practice with that.

The Fireball on the other hand gave him mid-range attacking capability. But this spell was boring. It only shoot a ball of fire from his finger that was all. Maybe he should drop this skill altogether.

[Leveling up Fireball to Lv. 2 will evolve it to Fire Projectile]

'Fire what?'

[Fire Projectile is a skill that let the user manipulate the fire element and turned it into a projectile]

'So flaming arrows? Fire javelin? Fire bullet and the like?'

[Correct]

'That's lame. Isn't that just like a fireball but with a different shape?'

[… The shape and size affect the damage it inflicted on the target]

'Still lame.'

[Leveling up fireball could allow the user to cast Fireball Artillery]

'Explain it to me.'

[Fireball Artillery let the user fire a high-explosive ball of flame to a long-distance target]

'Wow. And how can I have that?'

[By leveling up the skill]

'At what level?'

The system ignores him which pissed him. When asked important questions it would ignore him. Aldred asked a few more times but still receive no reply.

He sighed. He would think about allocating his points later.

As their comrades entered the barrack to rest, Joseph and Jeffery picked up their swords and started swinging. Aldred watched in wonder. Didn't they feel tired after that battle?

After swinging the sword, they lay on the ground and do push up. They did not talk. They did not count. All they did was grit their teeth and repeat what they were doing. After a session of push-ups, they picked up the sword again.

They did more than a hundred swings. They jogged around with full-body armor, and two swords hanging on their waist to add the weight. A few minutes later, they picked up a rock and jog around with the extra weight.

Their training put Aldred's hard work during the travel with Mary in shame. Compared to them, he had done nothing at all.

They were drenched in sweat. Breathing started to get hard for them. Soon, they dropped the rock and lay down. Aldred thought they would rest, but no, they started to do sit up a few hundred times.

With both hands behind their head, they pushed their stomach up, then slowly went down. Their muscles felt burning. It cried for them to stop. They did not stop.

They kept on pushing their body.

Aldred could see with his new eyes that the muscles on their body were forced beyond their limit. Both of them did not have any glaring weak spots because of genetics or wounds. So they were healthy, but why did Bartrem say that they need to train their swords more?

The both of them swung their swords once again. This time, Aldred analyzed their movement, posture, and motion as they swung their swords. His eyes detected a glaring weakness. First of all, Joseph and Jeffery failed to use their strong muscle to create the most amount of momentum. Their footings were wrong and imbalanced. That was why they were scolded. With that posture, they would not be able to pierce through the armor of an enemy.

A peasant looking at both of them would not find that out. Even Aldred could not find what was wrong until his godly eyes told him so.

He could not let this be. If they keep doing that, their strength would weaken no matter how many times they trained.

"Hey, you guys." Aldred approached. He wanted to help them in fixing their technique, but Aldred was a magician. Would they believe something he said about sword techniques?

Probably not. And he might offend them if he bluntly said their technique was wrong.

The only other way was to let them teach him. "Can you guys teach me how to use a sword?"

Joseph looked down at the ground, avoiding his eyes. That kinda annoyed Aldred a bit. 'I am right here, fella. Look at me.'

Jeffery stood nervously in front of Aldred. This boy was a talented one. At the age of ten, he had reached the bronze rank. That made him feel small and unimportant. Sighing inside, he looked at the boy. "Why? You're a magician."

"My arms get stiff from time to time, so I thought a little sword exercise might be good. I want to do it properly. Can you guys teach me?"

Joseph nodded while still looking down. "Here, use this sword."

Aldred received the sword and held it with two hands. It was quite heavy, but he could manage.

"Raise your sword up, tuck your waist, and put your left foot slightly forward."

Aldred clumsily pretend to not understand the instruction and instead followed the instructions given by his godly eyes. He put a wide stance, waist relaxing, and then with his whole upper body, swung down the sword in a powerful horizontal arc.

He scratched his head and looked at them with a smile. "Hehe. I think I did it the wrong way."

Both of them stared at him in shock.

"How did you do that?" Joseph asked. That swing earlier was powerful enough to cut a squire's armor. But that wasn't supposed to be possible for a magician to do it. And he had to remind himself that the boy was a short, light, ten-year-old kid.

Jeffery wanted to know as well. It was not supposed to be possible for Aldred to do that.

Aldred smiled inside but showed a clueless expression to them. "I just do it like this."

He showed his stance just like earlier and slowed down his movement so they could see.

Both of them frowned at first, but then they tried what Aldred did and it proved to be effective. All they did was change their stance, and their power increased by a leap.

Aldred smiled when he saw their eyes lit up in revelation. It was as if they found a treasure map.

Joseph glanced at Aldred. He had been taught by Bartrem a bunch of times, but he never succeeded in mastering his technique. He thought that it simply needed time and effort. But after his comrades mastered the technique quicker than him, he realized that he was stupid. A soldier could learn it in a month, he'd been here for far longer than that.

He wanted to give up and quit many times. He felt that he did not belong in the army. But he always recalled why he joined the army in the first place. And every time he play it back inside his mind, the flame inside his heart washed away all the thoughts of quitting.

Yet even with all of his efforts, he still failed to master the technique. And then came the boy. He only showed the stance once.

It was such a simple stance unlike what Bartrem taught him.

"Aldred," a woman's voice called.

Aldred looked to the side and his eyes lit up. "Mary!"

The woman rushed to his side and pulled his face onto her breast. Aldred was stuffed with fluffy and bouncy texture. He loved it, but it suffocated him. "Mary, I cannot breathe."

Mary pulled him out. Aldred gasped in the air from his mouth like he almost got drowned.

"Bless the empress, you survive your first battle. I was worried sick, anytime later I would have come to your aid."

She hugged him again. His face pressed against her breast. For some reason, she became very affectionate to him. It reminded Aldred of his mother.

Jeffery flinched and blushed at the sight. It was the beautiful woman again. She slept in the barrack yesterday which made him feel very awkward, but now she came again.

Mary also could not explain the feeling inside her chest. She truly felt like Aldred was her son. When he entered the formation and marched towards the south, she was worried that he would get hurt.

That reminded her. "Aldred, did you feel pain anywhere?"

Aldred shook his head. Her motherly attitude made him act like he was her son. "I stay at the back."

He recounted the event and felt disappointed in himself. What he showed on the battlefield was cowardice. He was not a true ten-year-old. How could he show that part of him to the world?

Mary noticed his expression. "What's wrong, child?" she asked with the softest tone she could manage. It just naturally came out of her. That was weird. All this time, she always tried to sound harsh and tough so men would not underestimate her.

Her tone moved him. Unconsciously, he started telling her what happened.

Mary smiled and ran her hand through his hair. She gently bring him to her chest and caressed his head. "It's okay to be afraid, Aldred. Everyone is afraid."

Aldred looked at her. Tears in his eyes because of his disappointment in himself. "Are you afraid too, Mary?"

"All the time," she said. "Bravery comes from the heart, Aldred. So whenever you feel scared, remember those who you hold dear."

Remember those who you hold dear. The image of his mother smiling flashed in his mind along with his father inviting him to have an adventure in another galaxy. Then there was his big sister, always spoiling him with chocolate milk, sweets, and books. He can tell them everything. He can be a child who he always wanted to be in the past. They realized that dream for him.

Aldred cried. He could not hold himself.

Mary did not say anything and let the boy cry in her chest as she hugged him dearly.

Joseph and Jeffery stood on the spot. They were reminded that even though the boy was talented, he was still a boy who needed love from his parents. It must be hard for him to be away and go to the front line at such a young age.

Jeffery wondered how Aldred become a soldier at such a young age. Bartrem or even Captain Pharder shouldn't agree with this.

"For the smell of my armpit!" a man shouted.

The four of them looked to the side. Bartrem was in a rage. He stomped the ground along with the other soldiers from Pressure Platoon II.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked.

Bartrem gritted his teeth and snorted. "Those blacksmiths tried to sabotage our armor. The reason why my men got injured was that they thinned out the shoulders plate."

"That's too much!"

"Humph. Nothing is too much for that bastard. If he could, he would go down here himself and kill us all."

"Why is that man has to be so harsh," Mary said. "He is a Captain while you are just a Knight. He shouldn't bully his subordinates this much."

Bartrem clicked his tongue. Aldred believed the man had a hard time controlling his emotion right now. "I wished one of his subordinates would kill him one day."

"With the way he treated his subordinates, that day might come," Mary said.