Assembly

The next morning, Leo awoke to find Little Mouse already gone. He searched the camp but couldn't find her, asking everyone he encountered, "Have you seen Little Mouse?"

One of the children timidly pointed towards the river outside the camp. "I think she went towards the river."

Leo searched along the riverbank, finally spotting her on a rocky shore. Little Mouse's tiny body was huddled on the pebbled beach, shivering as she rummaged in the shallow water. To avoid soaking her clothes, she had tied the hem of her too-long dress around her waist, exposing her bare legs. Her pale skin was marred by painful-looking frostbite from thighs to feet.

Olivia had more children to care for than just Little Mouse and had no spare pants to give her. Finally, Little Mouse caught a small fish, no bigger than a finger, her eyes squinting into happy crescents. Afraid of losing her catch, she eagerly shoved the muddy fish into her mouth without washing it.

Young children in the settlement received food only once a day. For breakfast, they might get a few spoonfuls from their parents' bowls or a handful of cooked peas, but no one invited Little Mouse to share. So, she had to sneak a few bites of bread for later or forage for food herself. Fortunately, she didn't have to work like other children her age and had the whole day to search for food. Unfortunately, food was scarce in the northern winter.

Leo walked over and gently grabbed her cheek, prying her mouth open to remove the fish with two fingers. Little Mouse flinched, swallowing the fish whole and bracing for an attack, then realizing it was Leo. She hung her head, guilty like a child caught in the act. I should have given the fish to Daddy first, she thought.

Leo didn't have the heart to scold her. "You're too slow at catching fish. Watch this." He moved some stones to create a small pond and built a dam, leaving a gap leading to the river. "Come on, don't play by the river alone. Olivia won't give you food if you do."

"What about the fish?" she asked.

"Come back tonight, there'll be fish."

"And the bread?"

"What bread?"

"The bread you promised yesterday…"

After much pleading, Olivia had reluctantly given Leo a piece of soft bread. With Little Mouse's admiring gaze and repeated "Daddy," Leo handed her the bread.

Breakfast was again the hard-to-chew bread, but only half as much as dinner, accompanied by a large pot of hot water. They also received a piece of a plant root that resembled a yam but was more like cassava. This was a local tuber known as deer antler cassava, capable of surviving in frozen soil and more filling than bread, but it was toxic and could be deadly if consumed in excess.

After struggling through breakfast, Leo waved a hand at a nearby young man. "Ivan, notify everyone. Militia training assembly."

In moments, the militia members had gathered. Only twenty were present, and a few were bandaged. The settler's able-bodied workforce was already severely lacking, and the militia members were its core, all busy with work during the day.

In the village, when Ulyan had first recruited them, they could only squeeze in some training time before breakfast and after dinner. Leo was the only full-time soldier, not needing to farm. The others had joined mainly because Ulyan provided an extra pound of bread daily for militia members. For many impoverished farmers, this was more food than they might get all winter.

But after the hardships of migration, the surviving militia deeply understood the importance of armed strength, especially in the untamed wilderness. So, when summoned, all but the few older veterans patrolling the camp quickly gathered, even the injured. After a year of extra food and training, the militia was noticeably stronger and better dressed than the average villager, some wearing makeshift fur armor, looking like a band of hunters from the Tsarist era.

Due to the lack of sufficient food, the militia rarely engaged in high-intensity physical training. Most of the time, Ulyan or other retired soldiers taught basic weapon skills, attack and defense techniques, and combat formations. Many techniques were simple but significantly enhanced combat effectiveness and survival rates. Fighting was not as straightforward as it seemed. Untrained villagers with weapons might inflict numerous shallow wounds on each other without causing any fatalities. Trained warriors, however, knew that battlefield opportunities were few, and a single decisive strike was often all that was needed.

Since the previous militia captain left during the migration to care for his sick family, Leo, with his rapidly improving combat skills, had been promoted to the new militia captain. But due to the difficulties of migration, he had never summoned the militia for training like Ulyan or the previous captain had. Leo, with his modern knowledge, had different ideas about combat. Close-quarters fighting was too crude and inelegant; ranged attacks were the way to go. Having been killed once by a kobold, Leo was not eager to try it again. Despite the original Leo's aggressive nature, the transmigrator's refined soul resisted melee combat strongly.

Unfortunately, Leo's village wasn't known for archery; the villagers were simple farmers. In a fishing and hunting village, the men could form a competent archery squad. But that was fine; these men were tough and strong and could learn other skills first. Leo had the militia line up and loudly announced, "Starting today, we'll practice javelin throwing. My requirement is simple: hit the target within fifty yards, and make five out of ten hits within twenty yards. Those who fail will have their dinner rations halved."

The militia exchanged puzzled looks. A brown-haired youth, Vichy, only two years older than Leo, hesitantly said, "But we still have to clear land, right? Uncle Ulyan said we need to clear at least three hundred acres in three months to make the spring planting."

Leo paused, confused. "How big is an acre?"

The militia members were incredulous and then scornful. Their captain's ignorance was shocking even to the illiterate. As a rural person, shouldn't he know the size of an acre? Leo felt awkward under their gaze. How was he supposed to know their measurement system? Was it imperial, metric, or something else? The original Leo had never farmed and had no concept of land measurements.