Jobless Reincarnation: Live Seriously Even Without Transfer Events

Upon hearing this, the messenger handed over a scroll sealed with scarlet sealing wax. The wax bore the lion emblem of the Boreas family.

Dongjia took it, ran his fingertips over the rough parchment surface, opened it, and looked at it for a while.

The clouds in the sky gradually dispersed, and the sunlight shining through the letter was dazzling. When he looked up again, the messenger was gone, so he sat down on the threshold and looked up at the village: the windmill in the mill was turning, the first hammer blow came from the blacksmith's shop, and wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys in the distance.

Sunlight gradually crept over the courtyard wall, illuminating the plow, rake, and sickle in the corner, their blades still stained with bits of grass. Dongjia got up and went back into the house, taking down the longsword hanging on the display stand on the wall. It was the prize he won in the Eastern Legion's tournament ten years ago, a testament to his knighthood. Even though the scabbard was covered in dust, one could still feel the chill emanating from it when the blade was drawn. In particular, the eyes of the lion forged from Damascus steel on the back of the sword always held a chilling coldness that sent shivers down one's spine. This was why Dongjia, despite being a knight, did not carry this sword with him at all times.

He gripped his sword and sat on the threshold for a long time, the words on the parchment appearing in his mind as if carved by a knife and axe:

"...By order of the Imperial Regent, Commander of the Eastern Legion (Note: The Eastern Legion refers to the combined forces of the territories of Fitoia, Milpotz, and Usl), and Duke Ars Boreas Grella of Fitoia, all knights granted titles in the territory of Fitoia must assemble in the city of Roya within ten days; failure to do so will be considered treason..."

It was summer, but reading this letter felt like being doused with cold water in winter.

He slowly sheathed his sword, the blade scraping against the scabbard with a grating metallic sound. His wife, Aisha (also named Aisha), came out of the house, her long red hair shimmering in the sunlight. Her beautiful face and hands were still covered in flour; she was making bread, intending to sell it at the market today to exchange for some salt and cloth.

"what happened?"

Aisha saw the sword and parchment in her husband's hand, and her voice betrayed her unease.

“There’s going to be a war, and I’ll be gone for months, maybe years,” Dongjia replied.

Although Aisha was not very literate, her face turned pale the moment she caught a glimpse of the Boreas family crest and words like "Gather" and "Disobedient" on the parchment.

"I'm going to find the village chief and the blacksmith. Can you prepare dinner for me, my dear? I want roast pork today."

Dongjia stood up and walked outside, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the courtyard.

Aisha bit her lower lip and nodded. Her eyes were already red, but she didn't cry. In their sixteen-year marriage, this was the third time her husband had received such a conscription order.

The first time was during the conquest of the Crimson Dragon Mountains, after which I was injured and flew to the Crimson Dragon outside Roya City. The second time was when I accompanied General Sieghart Boreas Greirat's army to fight against the Ghost God Empire of the Northern Continent to prevent the Ghost God Empire from annexing the three major magic countries. This time is the third time, and I don't know why.

……

The village council of Buena is a simple wooden and stone building with a huge stone mill inside. It is where the villagers grind corn and discuss and resolve issues.

In less than an hour, all the able-bodied men in the village had gathered here.

Dongjia stood before the crowd, so tall he almost touched the low roof beams. He read out the contents of the conscription order, and a suppressed murmur arose in the courtyard.

"Sir Knight, who are we going to fight this time?" asked Tom the blacksmith, one of the strongest men in the village, whose arms were as thick as an average person's thigh.

"It wasn't mentioned in the letter."

Donga answered truthfully, "But all knights are required to bring all the men in the village to report. Tom, your son is only fifteen years old, isn't he?"

The blacksmith's face twitched. His only son, little Tom, stood in the crowd, his face still showing signs of childhood. When he heard his name mentioned, he involuntarily took a half step back.

"This is not fair!"

The blacksmith's wife suddenly cried out, "Last year, the flood destroyed the fields to the south, and we've only just begun to recover. Now we're going to have another war? Now even my husband and my son are going to be taken away. Who will harvest the crops? What will we eat?"

"Yeah yeah!"

A chorus of agreement rose and fell.

Dongjia raised his hand, and the people in the courtyard gradually quieted down. "I understand everyone's concerns, but this is the lord's order, and none of us can disobey it."

He paused, then said, "Those who are a little younger, stay. Those between fifteen and fifty, go and pack your things..."

He didn't finish speaking, and the courtyard fell into a deathly silence.

In the distance, the village of Bouyena remained peaceful, with windmills turning slowly, chickens pecking at food in the yards, and children chasing and playing in the alleys.

"We'll be departing in three days."

Dongjia concluded by saying, "Go back and prepare yourselves."

For the next three days, life in the village of Bouyena continued as usual: the women were still washing clothes by the river, the children were still running in the fields, and the men were still working in the fields...

Aisha prepared Dongga's luggage: an inner breastplate, which Dongga had been rewarded with when he last went to the northern lands with the army, a few changes of clothes, a small bottle of salt, some dry food and smoked meat, an Asura gold coin, and a small bag of silver coins, which were their savings of many years.

"Take this with you." Aisha tucked a small wooden amulet into Dongjia's bag.

“Lord Percius will protect you,” she said.

"I will come back."

Dongjia said her voice was softer than usual.

Aisha didn't look at him, focusing on stuffing a bundle of bandages and herbs into the package. "The scar on your shoulder was still there when you came back last time."

“This time is different,” Dongjia said, but he himself didn’t know what was different.

Perhaps it was because he was getting old, already thirty-nine years old, no longer the spirited young man he was in the legion's martial arts competition.

……

On the morning of the third day, seventeen eligible men from the village of Buena gathered at the village entrance. Besides Donga, there was the blacksmith Tom and his son, the miller's two nephews, the shepherd's brother... Most of them had never left the village for more than twenty miles, let alone gone to war.

The women stood by, sobbing silently; many had red, swollen eyes. The children watched helplessly as their weeping mothers and their silent, departing fathers walked away.

"Sir Knight..."

Blacksmith Tom pulled little Tom to Donga and said, “Sir, let my son be your squire.”

Dongjia nodded without speaking. He mounted his horse, an old horse that had once been a warhorse of the legion. Now fifteen years old, it was no longer young, just like him.

"set off!"

He gave the order, his voice echoing across the road, with little Tom following closely behind, carrying Donga's armor.

The group moved slowly, leaving the village and walking onto the main road leading to Roya. Dongjia did not turn around, but he could feel the gaze behind him, heavy and scorching, as if it wanted to burn a hole in his back.

The journey from Buena to Roja, which should have taken less than a day, seemed exceptionally long. Once in Roja, the July heat seemed to ferment within the crowded environment.

The streets were crowded with soldiers and knights conscripted from all over the country. The sounds of horses' hooves, hawking, arguing, and commands mingled together, and the air was filled with the smells of sweat, horse manure, and burnt meat.

The flags hanging on the city walls were no longer the golden three-headed dragon of the Asura Empire, but were replaced with a black and red lion of the Boreas family.

After entering the city, Donga first settled the villagers of Buena Village. They were incorporated into a temporary military camp and awaited further assignment. Then they went to the castle in the city center to report for duty. It is said that this castle was once the residence of the successive heads of the Boreas family, but since the previously deceased Regent Rudeus Boreas Greirat took over as head of the family, this tradition has been changed and he moved to live in the capital.

Dozens of knights gathered in front of the mansion, all fully armed and riding fine horses. In comparison, Dongga's old horse and somewhat outdated equipment looked rather shabby.

"Name? Fiefdom?"

The clerk asking the registration question without even looking up.

"Donga Grerat, Knight of Buyena Village".

The clerk looked up and sized him up.

"Ah, tall Donga, I've heard of you. You were the champion of the Legion Tournament fifteen years ago." His tone was ambiguous, neither admiration nor sarcasm. "You were personally knighted by Duke Jars of Fituia and given the surname Grerat. If you hadn't beaten up the son of the Duke of the North five years ago, you might be the Earl of Roya City now, hahaha."

Dongjia paused for a moment, but did not reply. He simply took the signed document, which assigned him to the Third Cavalry Regiment of the Eastern Legion.

"I will depart with the army three days later."

The clerk concluded, "Go to the quartermaster's office to collect your supplies."

Leaving the castle, Donga wandered aimlessly through the streets, just like fifteen years ago when he had first joined Duke Yars' Eastern Legion. He would wander the streets like this, looking for the best drinks in a tavern or the most attractive dancers in a brothel. Some taverns would have a large fence erected, with strippers dancing on a central stage while adventurers or laborers drank around them...

But now, the city is filled with soldiers running around aimlessly and displaced people wandering about.

"Have you heard? Lord Sieghart has already marched south from the north!"

"Really? That Duke of the North?"

"Of course! It's said that he single-handedly wiped out the armies of the three great magical nations..."

"But he's the son of the old Kanpaku. He's leading troops south as soon as the old Kanpaku dies? Isn't that an attempt to usurp the throne?"

"Keep your voice down! Do you want to lose your head?"

Dongjia walked through the chattering crowd to the quartermaster station, where the situation was even more chaotic, with soldiers shoving and jostling for equipment and arguments breaking out from time to time.

"Line up! Everyone line up!"

The quartermaster shouted at the top of his lungs, but to little avail.

Dongjia, with his tall stature, squeezed to the front, handed over the documents, and the quartermaster glanced at them, then pulled out a set of leather armor, a helmet, and a spear from a pile of equipment.

"Bring your own horses, next!"

"I need better nails."

Dongjia said, "I am from the cavalry."

The quartermaster looked up impatiently: "Everyone wants good armor, but where are you going to find so many? You're a knight? Where's your proof?"

Dongjia gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist, a sword that still exuded a chilling aura even when it was in its scabbard.

"Get him the best set."

A voice came from behind.

Dongjia turned his head and saw a middle-aged knight dressed in exquisite plate armor.

The man was about fifty years old, with a scar on his face that stretched from his forehead to his chin, but his demeanor exuded authority.

"Your Excellency."

The quartermaster immediately became much more respectful.

Donga recognized him: York Hyperion Greirat, Earl of Roa.

"Donga Grerat, the champion of the Legion Tournament fifteen years ago."

Sir York nodded to Donga. "I remember you, tall man. You defeated the Duke of Yar's son in the finals back then."

“That was a long time ago,” Dongjia said.

“The best knight deserves the best armor,” York said. “Although you ruined your future with one punch back then, I still believe you are the best knight in the Asura Empire.”

Thus, Dongjia finally received a decent set of equipment: a half-body plate armor to protect his torso and upper arms; a helmet with a face shield; and a kite-shaped shield.

When he put on this equipment, he felt like he was back on the battlefield for the first time, but the heavy bags under his eyes and deep nasolabial folds in the mirror constantly reminded him that he was no longer young.

After resting, Sir York invited Donga to have a drink with him. In a crowded tavern, they found a corner seat.

"Do you know who we're going to fight? The equipment we've been issued doesn't include winter clothing; it doesn't seem like we're going north."

Dongjia asked directly.

York took a sip of ale and said with a wry smile, "It's nominally about 'suppressing a rebellion,' but in reality... it's about attacking the emperor."

Dongjia's hand stopped above the cup.

“His Majesty George Lant is fifteen years old this year, and according to tradition he is already old enough to rule in his own right. But Duke Ars… is currently the Imperial Regent… and believes that His Majesty is too young and needs to continue to assist him.”

York lowered his voice, "More importantly, His Majesty has very little Boreas blood in him. Although his grandmother was Lord Rudius's daughter, his mother was Duke Donadi's niece... Do you understand? The bloodline has been diluted."

"So this is an internal family feud?"

Dongjia felt a wave of nausea. "For this reason, thousands upon thousands of people are to die?"

"It is a struggle for the imperial throne."

York corrected, “But for us, it makes no difference. We are vassals of the House of Boreas, sworn allegiance to the lion emblem, and we must obey the Duke of Arles whenever he commands.”

"Even if it means going against the legitimate emperor?" Dongjia picked up his wine glass and drank it all in one gulp.

York stared at Donga for a moment: "Fifteen years ago, when you were knighted, to whom did you swear allegiance?"

Dongjia fell silent.

He remembered the ceremony, in the hall of the Boreas family castle in Roja City, where he knelt on one knee and swore an oath: to pledge his life and honor to the Boreas family and its rightful heirs.

Duke Ars also bestowed his own sword upon him.

“Especially you, Sir Donga.”

York downed his drink. “The honor bestowed by Duke Yars himself is something few in the entire empire have ever enjoyed. Donga, the game of the great nobles, should rightfully be the one we shed blood for.”

……

That night, Dongjia lay on the hard bed in the barracks, unable to fall asleep for a long time, while Little Tom in the next bunk was snoring loudly.

Dongjia thought of his son.

If he had a son, he'd be about the same age as little Tom this year...

However, Aisha suffered a miscarriage in the first year of her marriage and never conceived again. The doctor said it was because she had overworked in the fields and damaged her health.

Donga had blamed himself for this for a long time. If he hadn't intervened when he witnessed Sieghart's son leading a group into the village at night to abduct women and satisfy his lust, perhaps he would have more land and income than he does now, instead of being a poor knight. Aisha might not have had to suffer so much...

……

Three days later, the army set off westward, and in just over half a month, they reached the border between the Fitoa and Donadi territories.