913 Lucky Sleeper

The Devils were the only Awakened in the convoy, so the newly returned Sleeper had no one else to learn from. After finding out that the young soldier's Aspect had to do with melee combat, Sunny sent him to Belle and told the swordsman to show him the ropes.

The Sleeper was in a strange position - he was not a mundane soldier anymore, but also not a true Awakened. He had an Aspect, an Ability, and was capable of summoning Memories.

However, his power was barely enough to face a dormant Nightmare Creature, and potent Memories with active enchantments were wasted on him.

'Whatever. I was killing Fallen Devils left and right as a Sleeper...'

Sunny sneered.

Of course, no matter how much he wanted to, he could not hold everyone to the standards of the Forgotten Shore survivors. Everyone who had escaped from that hell was abnormal, and for every one of them that had, there were hundreds of those who had not.

In any case, the Sleeper was at least capable enough to watch over the refugees, lessening the burden on the Irregulars. To make his task easier, they had bestowed a few Memories to the young man. Now, he was wearing sturdy snakeskin armor and wielding Belle's spare sword. He even had an enchanted bow and a quiver of poison arrows, as well as a magical lantern and a charm that protected him from cold.

If there was one thing the Irregulars did not lack, it was Memories of lower Ranks. Pretty much every battle they fought resulted in one or two of them receiving something. Most of these Memories were useless to the members of the cohort, whose equipment had been of high quality even before Sunny improved it, but they were just right for a new Sleeper.

There was enough to arm several more, even.

Come to think of it... Sunny had been mostly paying attention to the human toll that the rampant proliferation of the Spell had levied, but there was another side to the epidemic devouring Antarctica, as well. Before too long, there would be a lot of Sleepers like that one on the continent. So many, in fact, that their numbers could potentially rival that of the Evacuation Army in the future.

...That belated realization gave him pause.

Those were thoughts for the future, however. For now, he only cared about the convoy and its fate. The convoy was not going to have thousands of Sleepers protecting it any time soon, but there might be enough of them to form a cohort of their own one day.

"Well... I better tell Belle to do a good job of mentoring that guy, then."

With that, he threw the thoughts about the Sleeper out of his mind, for now. There was a lot to do, and not enough time to do it all.

In the morning, Sunny sent Quentin, Samara, and Kim to take a look at the vehicles of the convoy. Each had to be inspected, serviced, and hopefully repaired well enough to make the journey to Erebus Field in one piece. At the same time, he assigned Dorn and twenty of Gere's soldiers to explore the bunker and see if there was anything inside that could be recovered and used for their benefit.

The underground complex had stood abandoned for half a century, at least, but there was a possibility that a few intact pieces of machinery remained, ready to be cannibalized to repair the vehicles. There could also be untouched caches of preserved provisions, and so on, not to mention the carcasses of Nightmare Creatures that needed to be dressed and dismantled.

Every member of the cohort already had their cores saturated, so there was no better use for all the remaining soul shards than to feed them to the rookie Sleeper. Just like that, the young soldier was going to consume hundreds of soul fragments in his very first day after returning from the Nightmare.

'What a lucky bastard..."

Recalling how arduous it was for him to get even a single fragment on the Forgotten Shore, Sunny listened to Beth with a dim expression. She was in the process of reporting what state the refugees were in, which, if put succinctly, was... not too good.

Well, what else had he expected? It was already a miracle that these people were holding on to their sanity. Many of them were the most vulnerable members of humanity, too - children and elderly. The shock of watching their whole continent go up in flames right in front of them was not something one could endure without a paying the price.

With a sigh, Sunny summoned the Covetous Coffer and started unloading the precious things he had stored inside in preparation for the Antarctica campaign. Quality food, sugar, salt, spices, dried fruit, chocolate, tea, coffee, toiletries, expensive alcohol for special occasions, and much more... he had prepared a lot, thinking that this stash was going to last the cohort at least a year.

There was even foldable furniture, a spacious field tent, and a few things to make leisure time between missions more enjoyable.

Beth watched more and more items appear from an average-sized chest with wide eyes. Sunny, meanwhile, felt extremely bitter.

The mountain of supplies was large enough to fill an entire room. Not too long ago, it seemed like a lot... but with hundreds of mouths to feed, it was barely enough to sustain the refugees for a few days.

However, the supplies were not meant to sustain them. Sergeant Gere had that covered, even if all the civilians had to eat was synthpaste broth, and all they had to drink was filtered water. Rather, Sunny's pile of treasures was supposed to achieve something different... improve their mood, even if just by a bit.

Enduring the apocalypse was much more bearable if you had some toothpaste and a clean toothbrush. Although that statement seemed nonsensical and foolish, it was nevertheless - somehow - true. Sunny had experienced the fact himself.

"Here. Talk to Gere and distribute this stuff among the civilians. Tell the cooks to step up their game, too. I want the next few meals to be really tasty... until we leave the bunker, at least."

Beth, who was staring at a pack of cheap scented soap as if mesmerized by it, slowly nodded.

"Ah... yes... I will... huh..."

Sunny sighed and clicked his fingers a few times, fruitlessly trying to get the young woman's attention.

'Damn. Do I need to slap her, too?'