Chapter 173 - Respect and Insult
Half a year after the war began, the Empire finally forced Belliang's surrender.
And autumn was the season when everyone had to stay busy harvesting the crops.
Whatever might be happening elsewhere, at least the 2nd Corps would have to pause any further fighting.
The Imperial Army officially ordered the 2nd Corps to halt their advance, planning a victory parade in Belliang's capital, Narvaing, where they would have the King of Belliang sign the declaration of surrender.
As a result, the 13th Regiment, which had been marching from the south of Belliang, also turned northwest towards Narvaing, the capital.
It was only natural—every division that had participated in the war, including the 5th, 6th, and 7th Divisions, would need to join the victory parade.
"Wow… Is all of that wheat?"
Gazing at the fields dyed golden by the autumn sun, everyone couldn't help but be amazed.
The sheer amount of wheat growing on Belliang's vast and fertile land was beyond imagination.
This year's harvest was especially abundant—the heads of wheat were so heavy that it looked as if they might topple over and lie flat on the ground, crowding those golden fields.
And in those radiant fields, the farmers who had been promised land as part of the Imperial land reforms were swinging their sickles and singing loudly, working so hard they seemed not to know the meaning of exhaustion.
"It's the Imperial Army!"
"Wow!"
The farmers straightened their stiff backs and, upon seeing the 13th Regiment pass by, whipped off their straw hats and waved them enthusiastically.
The children helping with the work followed the adults, cheering at the top of their lungs and running to greet the soldiers, not even knowing why they were celebrating.
"Wow! The Iron Carriages are running without making a sound!"
"They're huge!"
The children bounced with excitement, watching the giant, heavy transport vehicles speed along the roads. After the lord surrendered, the king declared unconditional surrender as well, so people in Belliang's rear areas—who had never experienced battle—regarded the Imperial Army as liberators and saviors.
They greeted the Imperial soldiers with waves, and the children laughed and played, simply happy without a care in the world.
"Catch this!"
"Wow!"
Seeing the children running after the transport vehicles, the soldiers tossed them supplies—biscuits and jerky that, after eating so much of it during the war, they could barely stand the smell anymore.
The children raced to snatch up the food, grabbing whatever they could.
The biscuits and jerky might have been flavorless rations to the Imperial soldiers, but to poor farmers, anything edible was precious, so they eagerly collected the handouts.
Meat was something they might eat once every ten days if they were lucky, so the jerky the Imperial Army had salted and smoked for rations was an absolute feast for them.
"Haha, look at you, just throwing rations out on the road. Does Belliang's surrender mean army life is over? Did you retire? Are you civilians now? You think you can just start throwing away rations? Want to die?"
And the soldiers who did this got severely scolded by Robert, who had ended up in charge of all supply duties for the 2nd Company, 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment, on behalf of Ernest.
Even when supplies are plentiful, every bit of the inventory needs to be recorded meticulously without any errors.
Calculations about supply consumption determine the operational limits, and keeping accurate records prevents theft or misappropriation.
But the soldiers, tired of the monotonous rations, decided to win goodwill by throwing the supplies to the children at their own discretion.
The real issue was that it wasn't leftover food they were throwing—it was the freshly issued rations, handed out just moments earlier.
"So, you think the war's over and life's just one big happy dream now, right? Huh? So your heads are full of flowers and you have no idea how precious supplies are, just throwing them around?"
"No, 1st Platoon Leader, that's not it…"
"I've already handed out your rations. You're not getting any extra. Understand? If you get hungry, go eat grass, catch some bugs, or buy something yourself in the next village. …The more I think about it, the more outrageous this is. Do you think supplies are a joke? You're all dead meat. We're doing a supply inspection. Anyone missing even a single item is getting punished! Punished!"
"1st Platoon Leader! Please, don't do this!"
"Oh, it's happening!"
Robert, furious at the soldiers for mishandling the supplies, gave the men he used to joke around with like friends a severe dressing-down.
He turned the entire 2nd Company upside down—not just checking the food that had caused the problem but counting guns, daggers, belts, boots, even every single bullet, shaking everyone down to their very souls.
"As expected, Robert really is perfect for logistics."
Thanks to Robert, who tore through everyone like a mad dog foaming at the mouth, Ernest didn't have to worry about supply issues at all.
In truth, it was about time someone put their foot down regarding supplies.
They'd learned the hard way—in blood and death—how important supplies were back in the forest before the Bertebras Mountains, and yet here they were, only a few months later, having completely forgotten and treating their supplies carelessly.
They needed to be taught a lesson.
With Robert going all out, there wasn't a single bastard who escaped without getting caught.
Even Platoon Leaders Billim and Simon were busted for loss of supplies—Billim for recklessly stomping and beating his boots to break them in, Simon for having the wrong number of bullets.
The same fate befell the Senior Captain Baltrachers, Isaac and Bruno, who outranked Robert.
"Ernest! Punish them!" Robert called out.
Since Robert, as Deputy Company Commander, didn't have the authority to punish his fellow platoon leaders of equal rank or his superior, the Baltrachers, the sword was naturally passed to the Company Commander, Ernest.
"Company Commander! This is outrageous!"
"Yes! This is completely unreasonable!"
"We only used force because we had no choice dealing with monsters that grow stronger by devouring our flesh! That's not the same as missing bullets!"
"Yes! …Wait, no! Senior Captain Bruno, this is betrayal!"
"Don't lump together someone who just bent their boots a bit to break them in with someone who has the wrong bullet count, Second Lieutenant Madsen."
"Senior Captain Isaac! Not you too!"
Isaac and Bruno betrayed their fellow platoon leaders in a heartbeat.
But since what they said was completely true, even Billim, shaking with a sense of betrayal, had nothing left to add. After all, it was common practice for everyone to roughly bend and beat the monstrous supply boots to "break them in"—boots that would only recognize their owner after biting into human flesh and sucking blood. Even Ernest and Robert had done the exact same thing. Trying to equate that with having the wrong bullet count just made no sense.
"Well, you know, bullets really are important."
"I knew it! Captain Krieger is on our side! He's known us longer, and we're closer in rank! He's more friendly with us! Unlike these second lieutenant nobodies! Hahaha!"
"Hey…!"
Ernest decided to let the damaged boots slide but drew the line at the bullet counting issue.
Bruno, whose spirits had recently lifted after watching farmers laugh while harvesting, taunted Billim and Simon with gleeful satisfaction. Simon hardly seemed bothered at all, but Billim trembled with outrage, unable to contain himself.
Since Bruno and Billim were similar in age, both were very sociable, and the overall mood of the company was great to begin with, the two now interacted without any formality between them.
Simon was still blunt as ever, but he didn't actually dislike Bruno's friendly attitude.
In any case, because the Baltracher hardly ever had any reason to fire their guns, they managed to avoid punishment, while the platoon leaders did receive disciplinary action.
"Why me!"
"You got caught with your platoon too. That's called poor management."
Robert was also disciplined along with them for negligence in managing his platoon.
Except for Company Commander Ernest and the Baltracher Isaac and Bruno, everyone else in 2nd Company had to run around the village where they were staying, fully geared up.
Still, since this was all handled within the company and at their own level, there was no official disciplinary record.
1st and 3rd Companies snickered as they watched, but it didn't last long.
"Orders from the Battalion Commander. We're doing a supply check."
"Uh… um… we're checking supplies too. Everything, open it all up."
After seeing 2nd Company disciplined, the 1st Battalion Quartermaster suggested to Soren that a surprise inspection should be done, and Soren agreed, carrying out a sudden inspection of all 1st Battalion's supplies and battle equipment.
The infantry companies were in a panic, but for the transport company, who handled the vehicles, it was truly a bolt from the blue.
"Shiiit!"
"We're screwed!"
Due to the sudden equipment inspection, the Transport Company went into full emergency mode.
Given the nature of the Transport Company, it was impossible not to turn up some dirt if you checked thoroughly.
Military vehicles were designed for rough use from the start, so there wasn't a single spot that wasn't battered, and small spare parts or tools always seemed to disappear one by one, almost as if fairies had stolen them.
"Damn you, 2nd Company Commander!"
Because 2nd Company had gone and inspected company supplies without any prior notice or discussion, shaking everything down to the last screw, the entire 1st Battalion was suddenly hit by a bolt from the blue. As a result, Ernest had to take the blame yet again, even though it wasn't really his fault.
Robert was the first to start cursing, but still, Ernest was the 2nd Company Commander, after all.
And this fire didn't die down—it only grew bigger.
After 1st Battalion finished their inspection of supplies and battle equipment, Soren followed procedure and reported the results of the inspection.
"Hmm, excellent. 1st Battalion Commander. Discovering problems, and instead of covering them up, reporting them according to procedure to prevent accidents ahead of time—that isn't easy for a commander who has to take responsibility."
Colonel Levin Ort, the Commander of the 13th Regiment—cautious, competent, and infamously meticulous—was very pleased when Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann, Commander of the 1st Battalion, voluntarily submitted the inspection report.
When Levin highly praised Soren and even let a rare smile appear on his usually stern, stone-carved face, everyone could guess what would happen next.
"Just because Belliang has surrendered doesn't mean the war is over, yet it seems discipline in the unit is slipping. Each battalion is to conduct inspections quickly and report back. Headquarters Company as well."
"…Yes, sir."
Regimental Commander Levin then ordered the 2nd and 3rd Battalions, as well as the Regimental Headquarters Company, to conduct inspections. Every officer present at the meeting looked ashen-faced, and this included Soren, the 1st Battalion Commander who had unwittingly triggered this Inspection Hell.
'Damn it! I should've just covered it up!'
Because Soren had been the first to report the inspection results and point out the issues, Levin not only refrained from criticizing him but praised him lavishly.
Now, Soren was in a position to relax with a clear conscience.
However, for Soren—who had planned to keep his head down and avoid drawing attention until a complete ceasefire was officially declared—Levin's praise felt less like a reward and more like punishment.
"They say this all started because of 2nd Company's commander, right?"
"You mean that Captain Fox?"
"Ugh! Why did that guy have to go and stir up trouble?"
"That brat—he's not just absurdly young and annoyingly competent, he's ridiculously thorough too!"
Complaints about Captain Fox—Captain Ernest Krieger, the 2nd Company commander who had, out of nowhere, pulled the trigger that set off a full-scale inspection for the entire 13th Regiment—erupted like a powder keg catching fire.
"Jitman, get down and do push-ups."
"You gave him permission! Take responsibility as Company Commander!"
"I've had enough... I just want to quit everything and retire..."
Having earned the hatred of everyone in the 13th Regiment, Ernest even failed to shift the blame onto Robert and ended up deeply demoralized.
But in the end, this incident proved to be incredibly beneficial for everyone in the 13th Regiment.
"Hahaha, that's our 13th Regiment Commander. There's hardly a single unit in the 5th Division running properly aside from the 13th Regiment."
When the 13th Regiment arrived in Narvaing, the capital of Belliang, the other units were exhausted to their very souls from the ceremonies.
It wasn't just the 5th Division—things weren't any different in the 6th and 7th Divisions either, and the division commanders had whipped themselves into a frenzy, trying to outdo one another with inspections.
So, when the 13th Regiment arrived in Narvaing already finished with all its inspections and submitted neatly organized reports, how could the 5th Division Commander not be pleased?
The 5th Division Commander lavishly praised Levin, and while the other units suffered through endless abuse and grueling tasks, the 13th Regiment, so long as they didn't cause any trouble, was allowed to enjoy their free time in Belliang's capital, Narvaing.
"Wow! Captain Fox really is something! He's got real foresight!"
"The best! Captain Fox is the best!"
And so, the resentment once directed at Captain Ernest "Fox" Krieger—the 2nd Company Commander whose inspection ultimately set off the full regiment's inspection—transformed naturally into praise.
"I really don't know anymore. Whatever happens, happens."
Having first received unwanted resentment and now equally unwanted praise, Ernest eventually gave up thinking about the whole affair.
He truly didn't understand anything anymore.
How did it come to this?
It felt as if the world itself was snickering, mocking him behind his back.
Regardless, thanks to these events—though they'd never set out with that intention—the 2nd Company earned the title of being the elite "Fox Company" of the elite 1st Battalion of the 13th Regiment, the very best in the 5th Division.
"It was all thanks to getting those inspections out of the way in advance Right? So, you get what I mean?"
Robert, who had spearheaded the inspection that would later become the starting point for Fox Company's fame as the 5th Division's top elite unit, grinned as he spoke to Ernest.
Ernest, always impressed by Quartermaster Robert's top-notch results when it came to supplies, dearly wished he could reprimand Second Lieutenant Jitman for something—anything—but since there really wasn't anything he'd done wrong, Ernest felt like he was going to burst with frustration.
"Just you wait. No matter what, I'm definitely getting you promoted."
"Oh no, please don't!"
In the end, Ernest threatened to reward Robert's achievements by promoting him.
For Robert, who just wanted to buy a hereditary noble title after the war and retire as soon as possible, this came as a shock. Somehow, promotion had become a form of punishment, but since this had become such a normal scene by now, no one even questioned it.
Anyway, the 13th Regiment ended up being the only unit in Narvaing allowed to enjoy their free time. And, of course, there was only one thing to do next.
"Let's go tease the others!"
"I'm in—let's do it."
They immediately set off to find their unfortunate friends, who were too busy suffering through inspections to enjoy Narvaing, just so they could make fun of them.
Led by Robert, the Imperial Military Academy peers from the 13th Regiment gathered and soon headed for the 14th Regiment to begin their teasing tour.
Ferdinand couldn't let himself be left out of this either.
"Hey! Look over there! Hey! Look at those poor officers, stuck doing inspections instead of having any fun in the capital!"
"Wow, it's true! I've never seen anyone come all the way here and just end up doing inspections."
"You bastards! Go away!"
"Ha! That's what you get for not finishing early!"
The unfortunate guys who rushed over as soon as they heard that their friends from the 13th Regiment had come to visit swung their fists in frustration.
After somehow surviving that hellish battlefield and miraculously reuniting, not a trace of the heartwarming emotion they'd expected could be found.
And so, they couldn't help but shed tears as they remembered the friends who couldn't be there in that moment.
Their eyes grew misty thinking how wonderful it would have been if everyone could have been there, but just like old times, they were able to laugh and joke around, letting their sadness drift away.
And it wasn't just Ernest and his friends pulling this kind of stunt.
Other officers from the 13th Regiment also sought out acquaintances in different units—checking that everyone had made it through alive and teasing them mercilessly.
If you let such a golden opportunity for some fun slip by, you couldn't call yourself a man.
If you were a true man, this was just what you had to do.
Afterward, Ernest and Robert made their way toward the 6th Division and split up with their friends for a bit—there was someone particular they wanted to see.
"Wow! Are you really the famous Captain Krieger?"
"Well…" "I don't know about famous, but I am Captain Krieger, at least…"
The moment Ernest broke away from the group of 'Imperial Military Academy friends' and started mingling on his own, he found himself the center of enormous attention.
He also soon realized just what sort of image he had among the other units.
"You're so young! I honestly thought you'd be this burly guy in his thirties or something!"
"..."
People seemed to think Captain Ernest Krieger was a rugged man with an imposing build, thick muscles, a dashing black beard, and the calm, penetrating gaze of a seasoned officer in his early thirties—basically the classic tough guy image.
"He just described Ferdie with a beard…"
Robert immediately caught on that the image everyone pictured was actually Ferdinand with a beard.
Most likely, when Ernest and Ferdinand's exploits got hyped up together, Ferdinand's vibe—being more believably soldierly—had gotten played up.
"Oh, so you really are Captain Krieger? Wow, a real celebrity in the flesh! And this must be the famous Second Lieutenant Jimman?"
"Me? Huh? Why me?"
And, to both their embarrassment, the Company Commander of the unit they visited recognized not only Ernest but Robert as well. Robert was so shocked he nearly jumped. It was no surprise that Ernest's reputation had spread so far—it was beyond the point of no return—but Robert himself had done nothing to become well-known. Plus, fame was the last thing he wanted, considering he planned to quietly retire soon.
He found out the reason soon enough.
"Ernest! Robert!"
A high, delicate female voice rang out—a sound no one would have ever expected to hear in the army.
Instantly, all eyes turned towards them.
A small, slender figure, much more aptly described as a girl rather than a woman, came running over at full speed.
"Marie!"
Having heard that the two had come to visit, Marie hurried over, throwing her arms around both of them.
"Waaah…!"
As soon as she embraced them, Marie suddenly burst into tears, crying her heart out.
"M-Marie, it's okay. Calm down."
"Uh, don't cry. Look, we're totally fine. Seriously, we're completely fine. Not a scratch."
Ernest and Robert had expected to greet Marie with smiles, catch up, and chat for a while.
Instead, she ran straight over the moment she saw them, threw herself into their arms, and started crying so sorrowfully that they could do little more than stand there awkwardly, trying to comfort her.
"Oh wow… The cruel and fierce Senior Captain Marie is actually crying…"
"So she really is human after all…"
Listening to the people around them whisper as Marie burst into tears, it was easy to imagine what her life must have been like since the war began.
She had written letters saying she was adjusting well after her commission, and in reality, she'd probably gotten along just fine with those around her.
But ever since the war started, worrying about Ernest and Robert must have made her return to that fierce, sharp-edged self they'd first met at the Imperial Military Academy.
With Marie clinging tightly to both of them, Ernest and Robert half-carried her as they moved to another spot.
Only after the Company Commander led them to Marie's room did she finally let go of them.
"You got snot on me, you know."
Sniff!
Feeling embarrassed, Robert grumbled for no reason, and Marie wiped her face, sniffling.
Now that they could finally see Marie's face properly, both Ernest and Robert let out a sigh, full of concern.
Marie had grown noticeably thinner.
She wasn't as gaunt as when they'd first met, but the cheeks that had finally filled out when they last saw her had now sunken again.
"Hey, you're a Baltracher—how'd you end up getting hurt so much? Doesn't this company look after their Baltracher?"
"These guys are awful, aren't they? Ernest, you should go teach them a lesson. No, let's just report them to the Chief of Staff and get them all in trouble."
"You're not seriously hurt, are you? Did you get treated in time?"
"Ugh"
"How did your hands end up like this!"
Ernest and Robert, gently turning the small, frail Marie around, examined her injuries.
Her small face was covered in quite a few tiny scars, and her hands were a mess, bearing witness to the horrific battles she had endured.
Marie had been commissioned a year earlier than Ernest and Robert.
She was deployed to Bertagne Forest immediately after the war broke out, experienced the most intense first month of fighting, and served with the 6th Division during the Bertagne Forest breakthrough operation.
This was no exaggeration—since the start of the war, Marie, having survived this whole time, had undoubtedly suffered ten times more than Ernest or Robert.
"You two aren't hurt anywhere, right? Are you both okay?"
Marie looked up at Ernest and Robert with eyes swollen from crying as she asked.
Given Marie's devastated state, the two were almost embarrassed to admit their own minor injuries.
"We're just fine. See?"
"Yeah, I swear, I didn't get hurt at all. The worst that happened was my heels got chafed and I got some blisters on my toes from these damn boots."
"What about you, Ernest?"
"Ernest got hurt."
"Hey!"
"Where? Where did you get hurt?"
Robert quickly blurted out to Marie that Ernest had been injured. Marie urgently grabbed Ernest's hand, then noticed that the fingernails on his left hand were still growing back.
"Robert Jimman, I won't let you get away with this."
As Marie looked like she might burst into tears again, Ernest shot Robert a warning.
Startled, Robert sheepishly shook his head in protest.
"Marie, it's really nothing. It won't even leave a scar. I'm more worried about your hands than mine."
Sniffing, Ernest gently took Marie's battered hand, which she'd been using to examine his left hand, and looked it over with concern.
"Can you move them okay? Can you still sew like you used to?"
Marie loved making clothes, had real talent for it, and—even if it seemed impossible now—still held onto that dream.
Now her hands were in this state.
Perhaps she'd never regain the delicate touch she once had.
"I'm fine. I got treated right away, so my scars just look dramatic, but they don't hamper my movement."
Marie, eyes puffy and swollen, managed a smile and wiped her nose as she spoke.
"I really fought hard."
Marie still hadn't grown at all since the last time they saw her, and now she looked up to smile at Ernest and Robert, who both seemed so much taller, still growing since their last meeting.
"They kept saying we had to break through the Bertagne Forest to end the war quickly, so I gave it everything I had."
"..."
Ernest gently held Marie's small hand.
Robert wore a bitter expression as he stroked her small head.
Marie, unable to help Ernest and Robert directly, had fought with everything she had so that the 6th Division and 7th Division could break through Bertagne Forest as quickly as possible.
She believed that if she fought hard enough and the war ended quickly, both of them would be safe.
She truly risked her life, not fearing even death.
That was the only thing Marie, who was stuck in the army with no way out, could do for Ernest and Robert.
At least, that's what Marie believed.
Whether it actually made any difference, no one could say for sure.
"Marie, I'm grateful you did your best thinking of us,"
Ernest said, kneeling on one knee before Marie. Even after lowering himself, their eyes were almost at the same level. In the time that had passed, Ernest had grown tall, whereas Marie remained as small as ever.
"But how can we be happy when we see you hurt like this?"
"He's right, Marie. Just seeing your scars is enough to bring tears to our eyes…"
As Ernest finished speaking, Robert took Marie's thin, scarred cheek in his palm and pressed it gently. Marie shook her head to brush off Robert's hand, then pulled her own hand away from Ernest as well.
"You two are weak."
Now, looking up at them with eyes shining far sharper than before, Marie spoke with absolute determination.
"Ordinary people die in the blink of an eye."
Her face was deathly pale, and she murmured as if gripped by fear.
"I have to protect you."
"Ah, um, Marie. Yeah, well, I get what you're saying, but Ernest isn't just some ordinary guy. You must not have heard the rumors... the legend… the myth of Captain Fox. Anyway, I'm sure you've never heard any of that. Ernest doesn't need anyone to protect him. Just look after powerless civilians like me."
"...What's the Captain Fox myth?"
"Enough."
"Oh, the Captain Fox myth, you see—"
"I said that's enough."
Robert started going on about the legendary rumors—myths that said the Captain of Fox Company was someone you never had to worry about—all to help cheer up Marie, whose mental state seemed as precarious as her physical one.
Ernest wanted to throw Robert right out the window, but when he saw Marie, whose face had just been as lifeless as a corpse, now listening with bright, eager eyes, he just crossed his arms and shot Robert a look full of annoyance.
"Ernest, can you really hear enemy movements from a thousand steps away?"
"That's impossible…"
"But he really did stuff that made it look true! In the pitch-black forest at night, he led the company in a charge and broke up the enemy formation—without a single casualty!"
"…He pulled off something that insane? And what in the world could have happened after breaking through Bertagne Forest that made you do such a thing?"
"...."
"Robert, could you please keep your mouth shut?"
Marie, who had learned Military Science from Ernest and had more than enough actual field experience, knew exactly how crazy Ernest's actions had been.
Her glare was so fierce and menacing it looked as if, at any moment, she might overpower both Ernest and Robert with the Power of Balt and stuff them right into that Little Pouch of hers.
Marie questioned them relentlessly, and in the end, the soft-hearted Robert hesitantly told her what had happened in the forest in front of Lanosel.
"…Bertrand Belliang Lafayette. Star of Summer. Estelle Pouarrié…."
Marie repeated those names carefully, pressing the pen so hard her notebook shook in her trembling hands as she wrote them down.
Her murderous intent was as clear and unwavering as a summer sky with not a cloud in sight—blindingly bright and absolutely firm.
Even Ernest and Robert, who themselves held pure hatred and a thirst for vengeance toward Bertrand and Estelle, thought that Marie's murderous intent had clearly crossed the line.
Thud!
"Urgh!"
"Marie, it's over now. We'll never see them again."
After making Robert pay his due by striking him in the side, Ernest spoke to Marie in a calm voice.
"We'll probably see each other again in the southwestern Border Region. When that happens, I swear I'll kill them."
"...."
But now, Marie could think for herself and had come to the conclusion that Bertrand, who had defected to Konchanya, would be stationed at the Border.
Ernest didn't know whether to be happy about Marie's growth, or to be sad.
"Marie, let me give you some serious advice."
So, Ernest suppressed those emotions for now and voiced his concerns.
"Whether it's Count Lafayette or the Star of Summer, don't go looking for a fight if you meet them."
"...."
"I'm not saying you're weak. It's just that they're too strong. To take on the Star of Summer, you'd need at least three Baltrachers. And Count Lafayette isn't someone who leads without thinking. He's a man who only picks battles he can win under normal circumstances. Once combat starts, the outcome is already decided. If you can, run away. Understand?"
At Ernest's warning, Marie stayed silent for a long time, quietly looking back and forth between Ernest and Robert.
"All right. I'll do that."
After a long silence, Marie finally answered, but Ernest could still sense the clear, unwavering intent to kill burning within her.
"But Marie, you didn't get any free time, did you? We're about to go have some fun now."
Robert, trying to break the icy tension, grinned playfully as he spoke.
When he roughly tousled Marie's small head, the neatly tied hair she'd pulled back was instantly undone and became a mess.
"Don't."
Senior Captain Marie Fiders glared sharply at Second Lieutenant Robert Jimman.
"Hehe, what am I gonna do if a little thing like you keeps glaring at me?"
"You…!"
Marie's hair, tied short like a rabbit's tail, came undone in a flash from Robert's attack.
With her hair now wild, she started patting Robert's stomach with her little fists, but astonishingly, it didn't cause him any harm whatsoever.
Whack!
Whack!
"Argh! Why are you hitting me?"
"You've done plenty to deserve it."
So Ernest hit Robert in her place.
While Robert didn't even flinch when Marie gave it her all, just a few light thumps from Ernest rattled him to his core, leaving him hunched over.
Marie, satisfied, gave Robert's hunched back a few more good pats before retreating.
"You really are such a damn bastard…"
"Watch your mouth. Marie can hear you."
"I'm all grown up now. I'm an adult."
"Ah… uh, right."
Marie insisted confidently that she was an adult, but Ernest still believed she was only fourteen.
For the past three years, he had lived thinking Marie was three years younger than him, so even though she was telling the truth, he simply couldn't accept it.
At this point, even if someone else told him Marie's real age, or even if Marie herself said it directly, Ernest just couldn't believe it—unless he checked the records at the Imperial Military Academy.
So Ernest just looked at her with the warm gaze you'd give a little kid proudly declaring they're an adult and let it go with a smile.
Still, deep down, Ernest couldn't help but feel troubled.
Marie seemed just too small and vulnerable at only fourteen years old, and he hated the war for sending such a young child into the hell of the battlefield.
Of course, Marie was actually sixteen—just one year younger than Ernest.
The three of them sat and talked together for quite some time.
Ernest and Robert even put off seeing their other friends.
Sitting there like that, it felt just like the winter days back when they were officer cadets, chatting bundled up around the fireplace in House Krieger's modest home.
They'd both been battered—body and soul—by the war, but still.
If only Haires and Jonas could have joined them, it truly would have been perfect.
But even though Heinz had promised to help find him, Haires was still completely out of contact, and Jonas had been gone for well over four months now, never to return.
They could never go back to those days.