Chapter 21 - Remember Death (3)
"Drek, it's been a while."
As Ernest wrapped his arms around Drek's head and stroked his neck, Drek nuzzled Ernest's hair with his lips and rubbed his face affectionately.
The day after Ernest received Haires' letter, Drek arrived at the Imperial Military Academy.
"Bereter, do you see that? That's how an ideal relationship between a horse and its owner should look,"
Robert whispered to his horse, Bereter, but Bereter just whipped his head away, completely ignoring Robert.
"Yes, that's the kind of treacherous, underhanded behavior I've come to expect from you. I'm almost relieved you haven't changed. I can't wait for the day you finally submit and let me ride you."
"Robert, horses are very smart, you know. Once they get older, they can even understand what people are saying. So you really should treat him well."
"What? How could a horse possibly understand human language? Stop talking nonsense."
"Drek, go bother Robert for me."
"Wait! Sorry, Bereter. I haven't truly understood how you feel. Yeah, I know. I know I'm not very dependable right now. But I promise, I'll get better. So let's work together and overcome this obstacle as a team. Okay?"
Robert, who had been making sarcastic comments in response to Ernest, suddenly grew desperate and pleaded sincerely with Bereter when Drek actually started trotting over to him. Bereter just rolled his eyes at Robert, glanced at him once, and then promptly ignored him again.
"Hey! Hey! Somebody stop Drek! Ahhh!"
"······."
"Uh, ah, ahhhh······."
Since Ernest didn't hold Drek back, Drek finally reached Robert. Startled, Robert flinched, but when gentle Drek merely nudged at Robert's bright, curly hair with his lips, exploring it softly, Robert groaned theatrically out of embarrassment.
"Drek is kind, so as long as you're not the one bothering him first, he'll never act up."
Ernest spoke as he pressed his cheek against Drek's neck.
Drek, in turn, softly rested his own neck on Ernest's shoulder. Drek, the small gelding, was truly gentle, affectionate, and kind compared to Robert's imposing stallion, Bereter.
Robert alternated between looking at his mean-looking—and honestly ill-tempered—Bereter and the small, cute, well-behaved Drek, then suddenly shouted in frustration.
"…I want a horse like Drek too!"
"Well, maybe you should've told your father that from the start. Come on, Drek. Let's leave Robert to play with Bereter."
"Wait, let me come too!"
As Ernest swung lightly onto Drek's back and headed out of the stable, Robert hurried after him.
Frrrr!
Left alone, Bereter began to snort and stomp in annoyance, making it clear he wasn't happy. He really didn't want to let Robert ride him, but if he didn't, he'd be stuck in this cramped space. Of course, that put him in a foul mood.
"Wow… I thought Drek was small, but seeing him now, he's not actually all that little."
"He just looks small next to Bereter, but make no mistake—he's plenty big enough to smash your skull or break your ribs with a single kick."
"…"
"If you're not hoping for an early death, never walk up behind a horse without thinking. Do you get now why I led you out when we first met?"
"Oh, Teacher Ernest, you're truly my lifesaver. You've saved my life twice now!"
"I only saved your skin that one time."
"You stopped me from getting expelled! If I'd actually been expelled, my father might have beaten me to death."
As they chatted, Ernest rode Drek at a slow, easy pace.
To be precise, it was really clever Drek—practically an extension of Ernest himself—who kept a careful pace so Robert could keep up. Ernest was simply following Drek's movement, making sure not to disrupt his rhythm.
"Okay, now it's your turn to ride."
"What? Just like that?"
"Would you rather sit down for tea and a meal with Drek to break the ice and then politely ask if you can sit on his back?"
"What if something happens once I'm up there? Like, what if there's an earthquake, or Grimman collapses or something?"
"If that happens, you shouldn't be in Grimman, you should be on a battlefield or in an enemy city. It's your shot at becoming a war hero."
Despite his dramatics, Robert let Ernest help him mount Drek, climbing up carefully.
"Whoa…"
"How is it?"
"I'm scared."
"Besides that."
"It's warm..."
"Of course it is. He's a living animal. Don't try to do anything unnecessary—just relax and let your body move with Drek."
With his hand on Drek's neck, Ernest began to walk slowly. As Drek started to follow Ernest, Robert, tense and nervous, instinctively pulled the reins tight.
"Shh... It's okay."
It could have easily turned into an accident, but although Drek was startled, he didn't act up. He simply gazed at Ernest with his clear, gentle eyes and moved even more slowly than before.
Ernest strolled in front of the stable, dedicating plenty of time to help Robert get comfortable with being on a horse. Robert, feeling deep trust for both Ernest and Drek, managed to calm himself and focus on Drek's movements.
"How is it?"
"It's actually kind of fun."
"Then let's try going a bit faster."
"I don't think I'm ready for that yet."
"If you're not even ready for this, you'll never be able to ride a horse in your life."
No matter what Robert said, Ernest picked up the pace a little. In truth, there was no reason for Robert to worry—they had been moving so slowly it was practically at a crawl. They had only just started walking at a normal pace.
"...Don't I look kind of cool right now?"
With his view now elevated, Robert glanced around and asked Ernest in an excited voice.
"No. If I'm being generous, you just look like luggage hanging off Drek's back."
"Oh, come on."
Robert grumbled something under his breath.
"...What are you guys doing right now?"
As Ernest, Robert, and Drek slowly circled in front of the stable, a slightly bewildered voice called out to them.
"Oh! Jonas! How do I look? Pretty impressive, right?"
"No, honestly, you look pretty pathetic."
"It's my first time riding a horse today. Can't you at least give me a little encouragement, even if it's just for show?"
"Oh, is it your first time? That explains it—I was surprised, you looked just like a slave being dragged away to market."
"You're seriously too much."
"Was Krieger teaching you?"
"Yeah, I just wanted to help him get comfortable around horses."
Jonas Adler, a first-year cadet, approached with a chuckle and tapped Robert's leg. They had met during the last Mock Battle Training when they trained together in Ernest's platoon and had exchanged greetings.
Jonas, being a hereditary noble and originally a Noble Faction cadet, used to look down on Robert quite a bit. However, after not being chosen by Wilfried and training instead alongside cadets in similar circumstances, he realized that the Military Faction cadets and minor nobles were better than he'd thought. Now, he was even getting along well with Robert, although there was still a slight distance between him and Ernest.
"Is this your horse, Krieger?"
"Yeah, this is Drek. He's an old friend."
"He's really gentle. I've never seen a horse this calm before."
Jonas held back from adding, "Small and unimpressive, though."
In the past, he would have said it with a sneer, but now he understood that such comments were rude.
"Drek's gentle and affectionate. Isn't that right?"
Ernest grinned as he whispered in Drek's ear, and Drek nodded his head, nuzzling his face against Ernest's chest.
"I like Drek too. I don't like Bereter, though."
"Bereter...?"
"Robert's horse."
"Why'd you name your horse that?"
"That crazy horse completely ignored me but let Ernest ride him."
"Robert, let's get the facts straight. It didn't just ignore you—it tried to kill you with a kick from its hind legs. Honestly, since you were hanging around near Bereter's backside, you wouldn't have had any right to complain if you'd been kicked to death."
"...Robert, you really... Never mind."
"Come on, just say it already, will you?"
The three boys burst out laughing as they wandered around the front of the stables in circles. As they kept this up, other first-year cadets who had come to fetch their own horses began to join in one by one, and soon they were all walking together. Jonas also brought out his horse and joined the group.
Before Ernest realized it, nearly ten first-year cadets had clustered around the entrance to the stables, all circling the same spot in this strange gathering.
"What's going on here?"
"Oh, you're here too? Go get your horse."
The group kept growing. Since Robert was at the center of it all, Ernest, who was leading Drek, naturally found himself surrounded by the larger horses owned by the noble boys.
"What's with the state you're in?"
"Your horse did this to me."
Ernest's black hair was a complete mess. The horses kept coming up to him, rubbing their heads against his and mouthing at his hair.
"Hey, what's up with them?"
The cadets couldn't help but be flustered by the way the horses kept approaching Ernest and whining for his attention. Even when they pulled on the reins, the horses stubbornly followed after Ernest instead.
"What on earth did you do? Did you smear honey on your head or something?"
"Are you sure you didn't? My sister says if you mix honey and milk and rub it into your hair, it gets really soft."
"Does that actually work?"
"Well, if the milk goes bad, it starts to stink..."
"Ugh."
"...What exactly are you doing right now?"
"Ah, Disciplinary Officer."
Seeing the horses and cadets endlessly circling in front of the stables like some wild ritual, the passing Disciplinary Officer ended up interfering too. After quickly hearing what had happened, he looked at Robert—who didn't even know how to ride a horse—and sighed, then spoke sternly.
"Founding Declaration Day is just around the corner. Do you really have time to waste here?"
"...We're sorry."
The cadets, who had been laughing and talking loudly as they circled the stables, replied gloomily after being scolded. At this, the Disciplinary Officer spoke with a slightly softer tone.
"It's good to build camaraderie with your fellow cadets, but for now, it's better to focus on Founding Declaration Day. After it's over, if you submit an application form, you'll be allowed to ride horses at the training ground. Just be careful not to ride too recklessly and fall off. Every year, some cadets fall and end up seriously injured or even killed. Understood?"
"Yes, sir, Disciplinary Officer!"
"Good. Head back inside now."
Following the Disciplinary Officer's instructions, the cadets returned the horses to the stable and came out.
"Drek, once Founding Declaration Day is over, we'll get to ride together. Just wait a little longer, okay?"
As Ernest stroked Drek's nose and spoke, Drek quietly lowered his head.
Through this experience, Ernest felt he'd blended in a bit more with his classmates. It was a satisfying feeling. Only a few days ago, he'd believed that as long as you were talented, there was no need to build relationships with others—but now, though a little bewildered by this change in himself, he decided to accept it.
***
"Wake up! Wake up!"
The morning of Founding Declaration Day arrived for the cadets with shocking abruptness. Before dawn had even broken, the Disciplinary Officer's booming voice echoed through the dormitory, startling all the cadets out of their beds.
"Move quickly! We don't have time!"
The city parade wouldn't begin until noon, so there was still plenty of time left. But the cadets were up this early because there was simply so much to prepare.
Breakfast was held far earlier than usual because there was so little time. The cadets carefully ironed and put on their cadet uniforms for the parade, then donned ornate, deep blue coats over them. Even though it was still the cool season of spring and there was hardly any need for coats, they put them on anyway, and the cadets were already sweating profusely.
That wasn't all—they also strapped short cadet sabers to their waists and had to carry the long, heavy Balt Guns.
They would be marching in the city parade in this full ensemble.
"Hartmann! You represent the first years!"
"Yes, sir!"
As the flag bearer, Ferdinand had to carry the large, heavy flag on top of everything else.
That didn't mean he left his Balt Gun behind—instead, it was strapped securely to his back.
Of all the first-years, who were only fourteen, Ferdinand was probably the only one physically capable of completing the city parade in such a state.
Practice continued for a long time, with no breaks for rest The first-years were already exhausted just from practice, and they grew genuinely afraid that some of them might actually collapse during the real city parade.
Ernest wasn't worried—his father, Haires, had not raised him so weakly that he would collapse over something like this. The only one he was concerned about was Robert, who was already panting with his tongue practically hanging out.
"If you collapse during the parade, it's not going to end with just a little embarrassment, you know."
"If that happens, smack me in the face or something. Wake me up."
"Do you think getting slapped will really make a guy who collapsed during the Founding Declaration Day parade just spring back up…?"
"Do whatever it takes—just don't let it happen!"
Since Robert didn't trust his own stamina, in the end, all he could do was beg Ernest for help.
Fortunately, the skilled officers at the Imperial Military Academy didn't intend to completely wear out the cadets before the actual parade, so practice ended a little early to allow for plenty of rest.
During the break, Ernest glanced around, observing the people nearby. He noticed not only the instructors and the Disciplinary Officer, but also the Cadet Commander, Brigadier General Gauss Schulz; the Chief of Faculty Division, Brigadier General Kramer Schaefer; and even the Headmaster, Major General Armin Mannheim, all splendidly dressed and preparing for the parade.
…
Amidst all this, Ernest spotted a Baltracher Cadet Girl, whose small frame seemed dwarfed by the gigantic Balt Gun she was leaning on for support. She was clearly about to collapse from exhaustion. But she was far away, and there was nothing Ernest could do for her—even if there were, he didn't see any reason to.
The other Baltracher Cadets seemed to steal glances at the girl for the same reason. Everyone has to look out for themselves.
…
Then, the girl struggled to lift her head, and for a moment, her eyes met Ernest's across the yard. Ernest tilted his head, and the girl, so pale she looked almost blue, simply stared back at him in a daze. It wasn't for any other reason—the girl was simply too exhausted to even think.
Ernest watched her absently, observing the girl staring blankly in his direction, or rather, just ahead.
Then, the moment their eyes truly met, he moved his lips ever so slightly.
"Hang in there."
The girl's half-closed, cloudy blue eyes slowly widened.
Soon, she fixed her gaze on Ernest, staring and glaring sharply at him in disbelief.
But Ernest had already looked away from her, preoccupied with teasing Robert, who, caught up in his own anxious nonsense, was half out of his mind with worry.
The girl clamped her lips together, stood up straight again, and lifted the massive Balt Gun she had been bracing against the ground. Then she raised her chin and locked eyes with the Special Training Division instructor who had been quietly watching her. The instructor narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he watched her, then slowly gave a nod.
"..."
The girl turned her head to look at Ernest again. However, Ernest, who had already lost all interest in her, did not look back at her a second time.
"Attention!"
With that, the noisy chatter of the cadets taking a break at the training ground instantly fell silent. As the commotion subsided, Headmaster Armin Mannheim, wearing his usual gentle smile, rode forward on horseback. The officers would be riding horses for the city parade.
"I am pleased to see how much you have all improved over this past period. I believe that today, no one will make any mistakes."
Everyone held their breath and listened intently to Armin's gentle yet resonant voice. However, since Ernest had seen just how terrifying Armin could be when he'd once dealt with the Cadet Corps, he sensed a chill hidden in Armin's gaze.
With such a gentle expression and voice, he was the very person who decided the most terrifying matters.
"You are still just cadets. But at least for today, you are proud soldiers of the great Mihahil Empire. Don't forget that—carry the honor of today in your hearts."
After speaking with a satisfied smile, Armin slowly let the expression fade from his face, his features turning cold and severe.
"Move out."
With those words, the Imperial Military Academy began to march in perfect order, preparing to take part in the Founding Declaration Day city parade.
Those participating in the parade would wait just outside Grimman, then begin at noon.
The event brought together high nobles, senior officers, and even members of the imperial family. Everyone had to stay on their toes.
However, His Majesty the Emperor would not take part in the city parade. The procession started outside Grimman and, after finishing in front of the Imperial Palace, a select few would be chosen to carry flags into the palace itself, where Emperor Walter Ulrich Mihahil, as sovereign, would greet them inside.
Ernest thought this was a precaution against assassination. A single Balt Gun could kill even the Emperor.
Of course, the Baltrachers of the Emperor's own Beowatcher guard would always be ready, and the Emperor himself was the unmatched Master Baltracher—but still, you never knew.
Since Ernest didn't yet have the political insight to grasp the hidden meanings of the parade, he hadn't realized that it was a reenactment in which those defeated by the Emperor would enter the palace unarmed, carrying only a flag, to swear fealty and submission to him.
"..."
Meanwhile, one first-year cadet who knew this all too well—Wilfried Ravid—had to struggle not to spit out the curses that churned in his mouth in disgust.
The Ravids had knelt before the Emperor, becoming what is now the House of Duke Ravid. In other words, during the Founding Declaration Day parade, his family would march carrying Ravid's Flag. It was his eldest brother, who became the next Duke Ravid simply by being born first.
"Whew!"
"Hartmann, are you nervous?"
"Yes, I'm a little nervous. But it's just the right amount."
"I entrusted you with the flag because I believed you could do it flawlessly without any mistakes. Show everyone clearly that you're the son of Hartmann."
"Yes."
Ferdinand let out a sigh to shake off his nerves, his eyes shining as he calmly replied. As the eldest grandson of Brigadier General Heinz Hartmann, Ferdinand intended to savor this glorious moment of being appointed Flag Bearer. He resolved to represent his family's name in perfect form, without the slightest fault.
"Our families will be in the audience. What if I mess up? My father will kill me! Honestly, I almost wish they weren't coming!"
"Must be nice. My father already told me he can't come..."
"..."
"..."
Ernest and Robert looked at each other and sighed. They both just wished this damned Founding Declaration Day would be over soon.