Chapter 25 - Despair Does Not Belong to Us
A few days after Founding Declaration Day, the torrential rains that always came this time of year began to sweep through Grimman.
It poured so hard that even if you wore a coat soaked with oil, you'd be drenched the moment you stepped outside. It didn't feel like getting rained on—it felt like nearly drowning.
"Wow... I'd only heard stories, but the rain around here in spring is honestly unbelievable..."
In the Empire's Central Region, this downpour was a familiar annual nuisance, but for the first-year cadets who had come from faraway places, it felt as terrifying as the wrath of a god.
Officially, the Empire denied the existence of gods, insisting that only His Majesty the Emperor should be revered. Yet, out on the fringes far from Central and its tight control, old myths and legends still lingered, refusing to fade away.
So, even though some cadets had been taught in the Empire's history courses that believing in gods was barbaric and irrational, the sheer power of nature was so overwhelming that, before they knew it, they started to think of these storms as divine anger.
With the weather like this, Robert's riding lessons were canceled, and the normally rowdy ritual of cadets' horses licking Ernest's hair and pacing in circles—like some sort of wild religious rite—was called off as well.
"Aaaargh! Are you insane? Do you really have to do this in this weather for you to be satisfied!"
"You don't have to ride your horse to improve your riding skills! Spend time with your horse, build up trust!"
But Student Robert, following Teacher Ernest's orders, had no choice but to brave the storm and visit the stables every day to see his horse, Bereter.
Even with a raincoat drenched in oil, he was soaked to the skin the moment he stepped outside, which made him furious.
The noble boys of the Imperial Military Academy preferred not to get completely soaked in the rain, so in this weather, the only lunatics heading to the stables were Ernest and Robert. Robert decided to take comfort in the fact that at least he wasn't alone—Ernest was doing this with him. If he didn't remind himself of that, he wasn't sure he would have the courage to keep up with this madness.
"…What on earth is wrong with you two that you keep doing this? If you have a complaint… just say it with words instead."
Even the Disciplinary Officer, watching the two boys return to the dormitory each night soaked to the bone after braving the storm to visit the stables, looked at them anxiously and said as much.
Given that Ernest and Robert had a history of once blowing up the entire Cadet Corps, he had no idea how to interpret this behavior. Were they plotting something again?
In the end, though, this craziness managed to achieve some results.
Torrential rain and constant lightning were frightening for both humans and horses, and Bereter, wary at first, slowly began to open up to Robert, who came every day and spent careful time by his side.
"Take it slow. Don't tense up."
"Heh… I-I'm actually touching Bereter…!"
"Robert, take my advice—unless you have a death wish, keep your movements calm, all right? If you act up, Bereter is always ready to strike you dead with a kick of his hoof."
Because of this, Robert had to move extremely slowly whenever he was within the "traitor" Bereter's line of sight. Still, he was finally allowed to actually touch Bereter.
To Ernest, this process was pretty nerve-wracking too. Bereter had a particularly sensitive and wild temperament—a fine horse, but with a streak of the untamed left in him. Not only that, he was incredibly clever. Just because a horse is clever doesn't mean it's obedient. In fact, the smarter the horse, the more rebellious it tends to be.
Even experienced riders can have a bad fall or end up seriously hurt if they make a mistake trying to ride Bereter. The real anomaly was that Ernest had been able to mount Bereter the very first time he met him.
"Robert, I really think you should contact your father and ask him to send you a more obedient horse," Ernest finally suggested after much thought, urging Robert to give up on Bereter.
"But… but look, he's letting me touch him right now!"
"True, but still…"
Yet Robert, who had already felt the thrill of having Bereter accept his touch, just couldn't let go. After all the effort he'd put in, closing the distance little by little every single day, being told to give up now was unthinkable.
"Teacher Ernest, you're the only one I can count on."
"…"
"Please, help me somehow."
In the end, Robert had no choice but to rely on Ernest to make this work, and since Ernest didn't want to see Robert get killed by Bereter, he couldn't refuse.
Meanwhile, classes continued steadily, especially the Military Science lectures, which finally got into full swing. Because of the relentless downpour, all outdoor activities—including marksmanship classes—were completely suspended, so they had to spend most of their time inside focused on Military Science.
Other instructors led the classes in place of Senior Instructor Captain Thomas Kohler, and the cadets were able to firmly grasp the basics. At the very least, they could now understand simple orders and carry them out as intended.
In other words, with the exception of a few outstanding cadets, the majority still weren't ready to devise and lead their own tactics or strategies.
Ernest once worried a great deal, thinking that the other cadets would come up from the Juvenile Military Academy having learned far more than he had. But the so-called Juvenile Military Academy was military in name only. All you really learned there was etiquette, how to live in a group with others, and a smattering of very basic military knowledge.
That's why, by the time they'd finished covering the basics, the first-year cadets began to sense that the next Mock Battle Training was approaching. It would probably kick off as soon as the rain let up.
"Everyone, arm yourselves immediately and assemble."
No way.
Captain Thomas Kohler, our ever-watchful Senior Instructor, struck just when everyone had let their guard down.
"What the hell! Are they really making us do a mock battle in this weather?"
"No way, right? He's just trying to scare us! You know, just to keep us on our toes!"
"It's not like he said for sure we'd do a mock battle. Maybe, maybe… maybe there's some other kind of training instead."
On one muggy, rain-soaked morning when the downpour had eased a little—but you could still call it a torrential rain—the cadets moved quickly at Thomas's command but couldn't help spiraling into panic.
Thanks to their previous experience with Mock Battle Training, not a single cadet was late assembling at the school gate. Even as they stood shivering in the rain, spotting Thomas, the training instructors, and the transport vehicles, they still clung to a sliver of hope.
"This will be your second Mock Battle Training!"
However, Senior Instructor Captain Thomas Kohler knew all too well the terror of the fog of war, where unpredictable variables constantly come into play, so he refused to give the cadets what they wanted. …Or maybe, he just enjoyed watching these pampered Greenhouse Flowers fall into despair. There was probably no one who could deny it. Not even Thomas himself.
In fact, Thomas felt a thrill of excitement as he watched the faces of the first-year cadets—who still thought of war as some kind of game—twist with fear. Making these rookie kids feel as much of war's terror as possible was his duty as an instructor, and, on a personal level, his own guilty pleasure.
"Just because it rains doesn't mean the war stops! In real battle, fighting in conditions worse than this is the norm! Whether it's rain-soaked mountains and forests, or even slogging through a swamp, that's all part of it! Sometimes, you suffer huge losses without even fighting—complete madness, but if it's an order, a soldier must obey!"
Because his own voice was nearly drowned out by the heavy rain, Thomas bellowed at the top of his lungs, giving the first-year rookies advice that would serve them well. Not that most of the cadets cared—in that moment, all they wanted was to climb into the transport trucks as fast as possible and get out of the rain, even for a minute. They were already soaked to the skin, down to their underwear.
"But don't worry too much! I'm not such an idiot that I'd actually expect a bunch of scrawny, soft-headed, unprepared brats like you to run around fighting in the forest in this downpour!"
There were hardly any first-year cadets who had the right to contradict Thomas's words. In fact, if it weren't for Ernest Krieger, who actually had the ability, "hardly any" would have been "none at all." Even Ferdinand didn't think he could wage battle running through a forest in weather like this; he knew his own limits well.
On the other hand, it's only fair to keep in mind that Thomas's standards were extremely high. Even if you included all the fourth-year cadets—and even the officers of the Military Academy—there were incredibly few people who could move tactically and fight in the forest under these weather conditions.
So, it was clear that the reason Thomas insisted on carrying out Mock Battle Training today was to teach the first-year cadets just how challenging combat could be depending on the environment. Realistically, the only ones who would gain meaningful combat experience in this situation were the already highly skilled Ernest or, at best, Ferdinand, the top of the first years.
"Therefore, today's Mock Battle Training will take place on the open field! But don't get any ideas about this being easy! After days of nonstop rain, the water has far surpassed what the earth can absorb—it's turned the whole place into a swamp! Chances are, today, you'll fall more times than you have in your entire lives! Think of it as starting to walk all over again. Go ahead—guzzle down all the muddy water you want as you roll and crawl on the ground!"
At Thomas's words, the cadets—already pale—grew even paler.
"For today only, you can give up on training without facing any penalties! And let me give you a bit of advice: when you use up all your strength and collapse, try not to lie face-down—lie on your back! If you fall face-first into the muck, you could suffocate! At the very least, keep your nose above water! And if you feel like you're really about to die—shout for help right away! Trying to do more than you're capable of is recklessness, and the price of recklessness can be death!"
That was enough to make some cadets start considering dropping out before the training even began. In this weather, someone could genuinely suffocate to death out on the field. Of course, Thomas and the other Training Instructors would be on high alert to prevent any disasters, but you never know.
That's why Thomas had prepared one more thing.
"In addition, starting with this Mock Battle Training, a Baltracher will be joining us!"
At Thomas's announcement, not only the cadet who had been seriously considering quitting but also the other cadets immediately looked different.
They realized that this training wasn't just about experiencing harsh conditions.
It was training to witness the power of a Baltracher firsthand and to learn how to apply that power in combat. Especially in weather like this, a Baltracher could prove incredibly effective. Missing today's training was unthinkable—you could truly gain experience that would become a part of you.
Thomas gave a subtle signal to a Training Instructor. The instructor went straight to the transport vehicle, said something inside, and—surprisingly—opened up an umbrella to shield the Baltracher Cadet from the rain.
The Baltracher Cadet, who'd been inside the vehicle, disembarked so slowly it was almost agonizing to watch. The other cadets grew impatient. But when they saw the Baltracher Cadet finally touch the ground, staggering, they understood why it had taken so long.
Sheltered under the instructor's umbrella but still getting thoroughly soaked because of the heavy rain and wind, the Baltracher Cadet approached and stood next to Thomas.
He—no, actually, she—was a very small, young girl, not even as tall as Thomas's chest. The raincoat practically swallowed her tiny frame; it looked much too big, and the hem dragged along the ground.
In the shadow of the umbrella, her curly red hair appeared dark, her skin looked almost blue from how pale she was, and her cloudy blue eyes were sharp with hostility, glaring at the first-year cadets as if she'd devour them. Deep furrows creased her brow, and her pressed lips betrayed a clear stubbornness. At first, the shadow made her look a little darker, but on closer inspection, the bridge of her nose was dusted with freckles that bloomed like lilies.
Her small hands, nearly hidden by the stiff sleeves of the raincoat, gripped the fabric so tightly that creases formed. She looked as if she were ready to spring at an enemy, or else throw herself desperately forward like a cornered animal making a last stand. The expression on her face, the look in her eyes, and even her stance radiated sheer aggression. She was so hostile toward everything that it was incomprehensible—and enough to make you uneasy.
"This is the Baltracher Cadet, Marie Fiders, participating in Mock Battle Training for the very first time today!"
Thomas shouted loudly from beside the Baltracher Cadet, Marie Fiders, his hands clasped behind his back.
At the mention of the name "Fiders," the expressions of several cadets subtly shifted. That surname is given to Baltrachers of commoner or slave origin who have no family name.
And the moment the first-year cadets reacted, Marie's face twisted even more fiercely. Many cadets were startled by the ferocity in her expression—so vicious it was hard to believe it had come from such a young girl.
"Don't you dare underestimate her just because she's small!"
Thomas snapped sharply at the first-year rookies. Even so, he kept his hands behind his back and was careful not to make any reckless moves, like patting Marie on the shoulder.
"You're all going to see and feel the power of a Baltracher today! You'll realize that Marie Fiders could, right here and now, tear us all to pieces, beat us to a pulp, and crush us to death if she wanted to!"
The fact that she was participating in Mock Battle Training meant that, as a Baltracher, this small girl had "sufficient" strength and was able to control it. Truly, if you simply handed Marie a Balt Battery for Baltrachers, she could kill not only every first-year cadet here, but even the training instructors and Thomas himself.
Of course, Marie was still an inexperienced Baltracher, so she could only attack or defend, not both at once. If she went mad and attacked, you could just run away. To put it another way, if you wanted to kill Marie, you'd have to keep firing Balt Guns at her, over and over, until either her mind or her Balt Battery reached their limits—it would take an immense amount of time and resources.
"When you graduate from the Military Academy and become second lieutenants, never forget that Baltrachers are immediately commissioned as Senior Captains! Even if it seems a little out of line with the usual ranks, they'll be your superior officers!"
After graduation, Baltracher Cadets are commissioned right away as Senior Captains. The rank of Senior Captain is a special one created exclusively for Baltrachers; in reality, it's more of an honorary rank—technically lower than Captain, but unique to them. But in any case, it was definitely a rank higher than Second Lieutenants and Lieutenants, who served as Platoon Leaders.
"Any questions!"
No one responded to Thomas's question. At this point, everyone had made up their minds that, even if they ended up failing, they would do their best before giving up. If they missed out on this training, they knew they'd deeply regret it.
"Good! Get on the vehicles!"
Thomas nodded in satisfaction and gave the order. At his words, the cadets quietly moved and climbed into the transport vehicles.
In one of the transports, the cadets couldn't board immediately and had to form a line in front to wait. That was because it was truly difficult for Marie to get on the vehicle. Yet no one offered her help, and Marie didn't expect any either, so without her Balt Battery, she struggled and strained for quite some time before finally managing to climb aboard.
Thud!
"We're moving out!"
The door of the transport slammed shut, and with Thomas's shout, they began to move. The low, heavy hum of the Balt Engine echoed throughout the interior of the vehicle.
"..."
"..."
Inside the transport where Marie sat, a suffocating silence filled the air. Crouched in the farthest corner, Marie glared at everyone without blinking, her gaze sweeping over each of them like a cornered animal.
Marie's dull blue eyes sharply observed the cadets inside the transport, glaring at them with an intensity that could cut through stone. The cadets, having heard from Thomas about the power of the Baltracher, felt a faint sense of fear at her gaze—and at the same time, a feeling of disgust rose within them toward this small, young girl who was once a commoner or even a slave.
As Marie surveyed the cadets, her eyes suddenly trembled, and a moment later, that fierce gaze disappeared behind her eyelids. Only then did the cadets dare to whisper among themselves. Until that moment, they had been completely overwhelmed by the strength and hostility radiating from this little girl.
Ignoring their whispered remarks, Marie pulled her raincoat tighter, wrapping herself up completely. The oil-treated coat didn't crumple easily, so even as it covered her small frame, it retained a stiff, defined shape. Crouched in the darkness, Marie seemed just a bit larger than she actually was.
Hidden beneath the darkness and her raincoat, she glanced over the faces of the cadets again. Yet, as she had expected, the person she was looking for was not there. He must have boarded a different vehicle.
With her lips pressed tightly together, the girl hugged her rain-soaked, small body beneath the stiff coat. Her jaw was clenched so tightly it jutted out, and a wrinkle appeared on the bridge of her freckled nose.
Marie was searching for the first-year cadet she had seen during the Founding Declaration Day city parade rehearsal—the one who had told her, "Hang in there." She had hoped she might spot him while standing in front of the cadets before departure, but unfortunately, Marie was too short to see anyone's face except those in the very front row.
She didn't even know herself why she wanted to find him.
In any case, he would also be participating in today's training. She'd probably be able to see him in a little while.