My Life Changed with the Unlimited System

The mornings at the camp always started the same way—a blaring bugle call that sliced through the predawn stillness like a blade. For Elias, it was both a wake-up call and a reminder of the uphill battle he faced every single day.

"Another day, another chance to get yelled at," Elias muttered under his breath, dragging himself out of bed. His voice was laced with equal parts sarcasm and resignation, though no one was awake enough to respond—or care.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The camp itself was a sprawling place, rough and utilitarian. Wooden barracks stood in neat rows, surrounded by open training grounds dotted with obstacle courses, sparring rings, and archery targets. Beyond that lay the wilderness, an endless stretch of trees and hills that loomed like a silent warning.

Elias had arrived here weeks ago, thin and untested. His uniform hung awkwardly on his lean frame, a clear contrast to the stocky or well-muscled recruits who seemed born for this life. It didn't help that his endurance was... lacking.

"Elias!" a sergeant barked one morning as they ran laps around the field. "What's the matter? Need me to carry you to the finish line?"

"No, sir," Elias managed between gasps, though his legs screamed with every step. The other recruits ran past him with ease, their faces set with determination—or, in Harren's case, an infuriating smirk.

Harren was one of the stronger recruits. Stocky and quick, with an easygoing charm that somehow kept him out of trouble. He had taken a particular liking to Elias, though Elias wasn't sure if it was friendship or just a source of amusement.

"You're going to die out here, you know," Harren teased after one particularly grueling drill. He plopped down on the grass beside Elias, who was flat on his back, staring at the sky and trying not to pass out.

Elias rolled his eyes, too tired to argue. "Thanks for the encouragement."

But for all his struggles, Elias had one thing going for him; he was a quick learner. Where brute strength and raw talent failed him, adaptability often saved him.

He had an eye for details, for picking up on what worked and what didn't. Whether it was adjusting his grip on the climbing rope or mimicking the stance of a more skilled sparring partner, he always found small ways to improve.

The sergeants noticed though they weren't inclined to praise. Their encouragement came in the form of letting him fail less spectacularly each day.

"Keep telling yourself that," Harren replied with a chuckle, offering Elias a hand to pull him up. "You've got to get it together, mate. Word is, they're picking squads for a mission soon."

"A mission?" Elias's ears perked up despite his exhaustion.

Missions were rare for recruits. Most of their time was spent training, learning, and trying not to die of sheer exhaustion. A real mission meant trust—and risk.

"Yeah," Harren continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Four-person teams, led by a captain. Heard it from one of the sergeants. Something about scouting enemy movements."

"Why such a small team?" Elias asked, brushing dirt off his uniform.

Harren shrugged. "Stealth, probably. Can't exactly sneak around with a whole platoon stomping through the woods."

The thought of being chosen for a mission sent Elias a nervous thrill. It was an opportunity, a chance to prove himself. But it also meant the stakes would be higher than ever.

He glanced toward the far end of the training field, where a group of officers stood in deep discussion. Among them was Captain Richard Cole.

Even from a distance, Cole was impossible to miss. He was a towering figure, broad-shouldered and commanding. The way he carried himself—calm, confident, and utterly unshakeable—made him seem almost larger than life. Recruits spoke of him in hushed tones, their voices tinged with awe and curiosity.

"They say he once held a bridge against an entire company of enemy soldiers," Harren said, noticing Elias's gaze. His voice was low, as though he didn't want the wrong person to overhear. "Just him and his fists."

Elias tilted his head slightly, still watching Cole. "I've heard that too," he said. "And honestly, I believe it. The man looks like he could stop a charging bull."

Harren gave a short laugh, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, but a whole company? With fists? You sure you're not buying into the legend too much?"

Elias shrugged, his eyes narrowing as he studied the captain. "Maybe. But then again, doesn't he look like someone who could pull it off?"

Harren glanced at Cole, then back at Elias, his expression skeptical. "I don't know," he muttered. "I'm just saying fists only get you so far. Sounds more like a story to keep us impressed."

Elias didn't argue. Whether the stories were true or not didn't matter much to him. Watching Cole now, it was clear the man had something about him that set him apart. He wasn't just another soldier—he was something more.

But fate, as it often does, had plans of its own. Later that evening, as Elias was cleaning his boots outside the barracks with Harren, a messenger approached with a scroll in hand.

"Elias," the messenger called, his tone brisk. "You're assigned to Squad Nine. Report to the briefing room at dawn tomorrow."

Elias blinked, his mind racing. Squad Nine. A mission. It was happening. He nodded quickly, his heart pounding as the messenger strode away.

"Squad Nine, huh?" Harren said, glancing up from his boots with a broad grin. "You lucky bastard. Numbered squads are for scouts—they always get the interesting stuff. None of this sweeping-the-perimeter nonsense."

Elias smirked. "Interesting stuff? More like sneaking around in enemy territory and hoping you don't get caught."

Harren laughed, tossing a rag over his shoulder. "Well, sneaking beats sitting on our hands in base. I'd take a risky mission over latrine duty any day."

Before Elias could reply, the same messenger reappeared, holding another scroll. He barely glanced at Harren as he announced, "Harren, Squad K. You're to report to the southern yard by noon tomorrow."

Harren's grin widened. "Squad K? That's… not bad. K's one of the infantry squads. Maybe they'll let me smash something."

Elias raised an eyebrow. "You've been begging to get out of drills for weeks. Now you're excited to throw yourself into the middle of a battlefield?"

"Hey," Harren said, puffing his chest out. "It's not just any battlefield. It's our battlefield. We're in the middle of the biggest war in Dalkorr's history. Might as well play our part."

Elias shook his head, though he couldn't help but laugh. "Sure, Harren. Because our part in the war between Darovyn, Syrelis, and Velkran is going to turn the tide."

Harren waved a dismissive hand. "Don't forget Ferosh. They're the ones stirring the pot. This whole continent's been on edge ever since they got involved."

Elias sighed. The continent of Korradel had been in turmoil for years. Alliances shifted constantly, borders were redrawn as often as maps, and the war had left no one untouched.

The conflict had started with Darovyn and Velkran clashing over disputed lands in the Western Barrens. Syrelis joined later, claiming they were protecting their trade routes.

But everyone knew it was Ferosh's interference—supplying arms and stirring up unrest—that had escalated the skirmishes into an all-out war. Continue your journey with empire

And now, recruits like Elias and Harren were being thrown into the fray.

"Well," Harren said, stretching his arms and flashing a cheeky grin, "at least we're not stuck guarding supply carts. I'll take being part of Korradel's history over babysitting barrels of oats."

Elias chuckled. "You might want to hold that thought until you've actually been on the field."

They both fell silent for a moment, the weight of their assignments settling over them. Despite their jokes, the excitement in the air was undeniable.

Elias glanced at Harren. "Think we'll still be able to complain about this over dinner next week?"

Harren grinned. "Depends. You make it back from sneaking around with Squad Nine, and I don't get my head bashed in with Squad K? Yeah, we'll meet up and swap heroic tales. Maybe even survive long enough to complain about the food."

"Deal," Elias said, shaking his head with a smile. "Here's to surviving our first missions."

Harren raised his rag in a mock toast. "To survive!"

As Elias lay in his bunk that night, staring at the wooden beams above, he couldn't stop his mind from spinning. Who else would be in the squad? What would the mission be like?

And most importantly—who would lead them?

***

The answer came the next morning as the recruits gathered in the briefing room. Elias's eyes widened as the captain stepped forward, his voice calm and steady as he addressed the group.

"Welcome to Squad Nine," said Captain Richard Cole.

Elias's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't just fate. It was a test—a chance to prove himself under the very man he admired most.

The briefing room was a small, unassuming space. Wooden walls lined with maps gave the room an air of importance, though it felt cold and impersonal. A table stood at the center, and standing behind it was none other than Captain Richard Cole.

Elias had seen Cole from a distance before, but being in the same room with him was different. The man's presence was overwhelming—not because he was loud or commanding, but because of the quiet confidence he exuded. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, and unshakable, his sharp blue eyes scanning the recruits as they entered.

Elias wasn't the only one chosen for Squad Nine. To his right stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark brown hair cropped short. His uniform was immaculate, every button polished to a mirror shine. He carried himself with a kind of easy arrogance that made Elias's stomach tighten.

"That's Tanner," Harren had told him earlier. "Thinks he's the best thing to happen to the military since swords."

Elias believed it. Tanner barely glanced at him, his attention focused on Cole as if already imagining himself as the captain's protégé.

To Elias's left was the only woman in the squad—a wiry young recruit named Mara. Her sharp green eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail.

She didn't have Tanner's imposing presence, but there was something about her that made Elias wary. Her fingers drummed lightly against her thigh, a subtle display of energy that hinted at a restless mind.

Cole cleared his throat, and the recruits snapped to attention.

"Welcome to Squad Nine," he began, his voice calm but firm. "You've been chosen because you've shown potential. This mission will test whether that potential is worth anything."

Elias felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

"Your objective is simple," Cole continued, gesturing to the map behind him. "Scout the area beyond this ridge. Intelligence suggests enemy activity in the region. Your job is to confirm their presence, assess their numbers, and report back."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the recruits. "This is not a combat mission. You are to avoid engagement unless absolutely necessary. Stealth is your priority. If you are spotted, you fall back immediately. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" they replied in unison, though Elias's voice cracked slightly at the end.

"Questions?" Cole asked, his tone inviting but leaving no room for frivolity.

Mara raised a hand. "What's the expected timeline for the mission, sir?"

"Three days," Cole replied. "If we're not back by then, they assume the worst."

Elias swallowed hard. He didn't like the sound of that.

Tanner straightened, his jaw set. "And if we encounter resistance, sir?"

"You retreat," Cole said firmly. "This mission is about information, not glory. Your lives are not expendable."

Elias shifted uneasily. He could feel Tanner's confidence radiating like a beacon and Mara's sharp focus as she absorbed every word. Compared to them, he felt like a boy playing soldier. But if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that he could adapt. He had to.

As the briefing ended, Cole's gaze lingered on him for a moment—a look that wasn't exactly encouraging but wasn't dismissive either.

Elias straightened his back. This was his chance to prove himself under the watchful eye of a captain he admired. Whatever doubts lingered, he would leave them behind.

Squad Nine's mission had begun.