A Peaceful Land of the Orcs (5.3)
In the logistics base, the same principles applied: "Orc soldiers who are available should actively participate in loading and unloading tasks." This training was provided to the receiving units as well.
Ever since these systems were incorporated into the Orcsen army—long before the adoption of Kobold magic communication troops—it had become commonplace to see Kobold non-commissioned officers and officers yelling at Orc soldiers.
The person Ria approached after gauging the situation was one such Kobold sergeant. He was a large Great Dane-type Kobold, imposing for his species.
In the Orcsen army, the rank of Sergeant was the highest non-commissioned rank achievable from the enlisted ranks.
To a mere private, a sergeant could often seem more intimidating than officers, with whom they might have little direct interaction.
"May I have a moment, Sergeant?"
"Hm? Ah, you're the visiting Captain. My apologies, ma'am. Is there something I can assist you with?"
Ria Efildis had an air of unshakable confidence, complemented by a genuinely cheerful and open personality. People who interacted with her often forgot their differences in race or historical context.
She possessed a fortunate disposition. As a Dark Elf, her appearance might be considered charming, though she was considerably older and skilled at reading the nuances of others' emotions.
Meanwhile, the sergeant marveled at her audacity, thinking, "This Captain dared to approach someone as intimidating-looking as me."
"You seem quite busy. Is there something affecting logistics?"
"Ah, yes... One reason is the frontline unit's reckless maneuvers. They deviated from the main road during yesterday's river crossing, causing a bottleneck. We’re dispatching supply wagons, but none are returning. We also have to send out engineering equipment, so it's chaos. And this rain... I hope things don't get worse."
"I see."
Indeed, supply wagons loaded with lumber and crushed stone were visible—likely materials for repairing muddy roads.
"And over there, fresh provisions?"
"Yes—"
Noticing that she referred to wagons filled with wooden crates of raw potatoes, the sergeant nodded. Those crates were already covered with tarps.
"Still, how did you know at a glance? While the size differs from ammunition or medical supply crates, fresh and dried provisions look nearly identical to us without reading the labels. Managing them to prevent mix-ups is one of our main tasks."
"Oh, that's simple. I sensed traces of cooling inscription magic. It's clear from the aura. Those must have been in a cold storage warehouse, right?"
"Impressive."
So that was possible.
The sergeant, who lacked magical abilities, had never imagined such a method.
Wait a second.
Hold on.
Does this mean... even with simple distinctions, if we inscribed different magic markings on boxes of dried and fresh vegetables—
Even Kobolds with weak mana perception could detect the difference.
"Captain, pardon me, but could you explain that in more detail?"
Neither Ria nor the sergeant realized at the time that this casual conversation and seemingly minor idea would later give birth to the engraved magic item management system. This system would revolutionize not only the Orcsen army’s logistics but also the civilian logistics infrastructure.
Florian Taubert, a first-class supply soldier, belonged to the supply battalion in the Seventh Grenadier Division’s logistics train. He managed one of the 24 Hf. Type 4 Heavy Supply wagons assigned to each of the six columns in the battalion.
Florian was a Kobold of the Beagle type, serving as a driver in the unit.
He came from a small-town merchant family in the Mermea province. Though "merchant" might sound grand, his family merely ran a hardware store dealing in kitchen utensils. He was born to kind-hearted parents.
After passing the conscription examination with an A classification, deemed his best aptitude, he joined the army.
To Florian, the military was a good place.
The initial days had been tough, but now he found it reasonably enjoyable.
His sergeant, despite a stern demeanor and strict work ethic, was genuinely kind-hearted.
The 15 lang and 20 renny monthly salary wasn’t much, but Florian had earned a skilled soldier's certification, so his pay was set to increase soon. With that, he could send money to his mother. His plan was to save bit by bit during his service, using the savings as tuition to enter a business university.
This country was a wonderful place.
Regardless of age, anyone with determination could attend university. Perhaps only in this nation of immortal demonic races, where age meant little, could such an opportunity exist.
Large-scale exercises felt like small adventures.
He could travel to unfamiliar towns by train in no time.
Once this exercise concluded, his unit would be taken on a tour of the capital. He was looking forward to it.
Since last night, things had become hectic.
The division's grenadier regiment had built a pontoon bridge and crossed the river, launching an assault on the enemy’s position.
The battle continued into the night, but the Seventh Grenadier Division emerged victorious. His division was strong—so strong it had even bested the capital’s forces.
However, building a bridge away from the main road seemed reckless.
Artillery had been abandoned.
The regimental supply team had been left behind.
To make matters worse, the enemy had blown up the last remaining bridge during their retreat. While it was only a scenario for the exercise, that bridge was declared off-limits.
Resupply would have to rely on the pontoon bridge.
Night battles consumed a lot of ammunition—more than daytime engagements. Florian remembered it being the same during last year’s exercises.
The Orc soldiers had plenty of rifle ammunition, but the battalion cannons were already out of shells. Though there were still some rounds left, the shells for test firing and effective firing were different. There were no more illumination rounds either. Artillery work was complicated.
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