Chapter 183 - Sitting Across from the Marshal (7)
"Your Excellency, it's been confirmed—the Imperial troops are being rotated out."
"As expected."
Bertrand could barely contain his delight upon hearing the news he'd been waiting for.
He knew that Levin, the commander of the 13th Regiment where Ernest was stationed, was a particularly cautious man, and so he believed there was little chance they'd attempt a reckless attack.
The 5th Division's decision to halt their offensive was the right call.
But from the Empire's perspective, needing to drive back Konchanya's defensive lines, such a passive stance was unwelcome.
So, with the 5th Division not only badly battered but lacking in initiative, they were replaced entirely by the 6th Division.
In other words, the opponent Bertrand watched most carefully—Captain Fox, Ernest Krieger—would be forced to withdraw on his own.
"Krieger, maybe you should have been born just a little earlier?"
Bertrand smiled as he pictured Captain Ernest being jerked around, with no real authority of his own.
Besides, the 5th Division wasn't simply retreating—they were sure to be deployed out on the plains.
Even someone like Ernest wouldn't be able to work any special miracles in an open, all-out battle for the high ground.
It'd be perfect if he met his end out there.
"The time has come. Prepare to attack."
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
As soon as the enemy forces in the forest were swapped for those of the 6th Division, Bertrand immediately set preparations for the assault in motion.
Of course, he wasn't planning to attack right away.
First, he would simply wait.
Once the 6th Division launched its attack, he would hold them off, and, after the enemy reached the culmination point of their offensive, Bertrand would switch to the attack, crushing the 6th Division in one swift strike and driving them completely out of the forest.
True, Bertrand had conceded half the forest in the previous battle, but in exchange, he had inflicted massive losses on the 5th Division while suffering only minor casualties.
The 14th Regiment was left incapable of continuing operations, and even the 13th Regiment's 2nd Battalion had taken heavy losses.
Now, if he could defeat the 6th Division as well and reclaim the forest, the Belliang Army alone would have toppled both the 5th and 6th Divisions and successfully defended the woods.
That would be a far greater achievement than anything the Konchanya military authorities had anticipated.
If things went well, they might even grant Bertrand command over more of their forces.
"If I could just seize control of the military authority in this southwest… no, northwest front!"
Bertrand clenched his fist.
Even a spectacular victory in this battle wouldn't immediately place all military authority for the southwest of Belliang—or rather, the entire northwest front of Konchanya—in his hands.
But at the very least, he could wield more power than he did now.
With that as his foundation, if luck was on his side, he might be able to expand his influence and, by the time the next war rolled around, hold command over the entire northwest front.
For that to happen, he absolutely had to crush the 6th Division in this engagement and retake the forest.
And for Bertrand, that wasn't a difficult task.
As long as he didn't have to face a maniac like Ernest—someone who had reached the extreme fringe of reason—and as long as he wasn't forced into an hopeless fight outnumbered the way he had been in the Battle of Bertagne Forest, Bertrand was confident he could beat any opponent.
Once again, Bertrand had managed to secure victory even before the actual fight began, shaping the larger framework of the battle rather than relying on tactics alone.
Most ordinary men couldn't even imagine snatching victory in an uphill battle just by maintaining such a precarious stalemate.
Of course, they also had no idea that the very reason the last campaign had been so perilous was thanks to a single lowly company commander.
In truth, even if Ernest were present, Bertrand still believed he could reclaim the forest.
The 5th Division had taken too many losses, while the Belliang Army remained intact.
Still, Bertrand was determined to avoid suffering any unexpected damage because of the wild card that was Ernest, regardless of whether or not he won.
But now that Ernest was gone, everything was set.
Bertrand pushed up his eyebrow with his thumb, a confident smile spreading across his face.
The 16th and 17th Regiments of the 6th Division, which had been facing off against Konchanya's defensive line on the plain, entered the forest to relieve the 13th and 14th Regiments of the 5th Division guarding the front lines there.
So it was only natural that Senior Captain Marie Fiders of the 3rd Company, 2nd Battalion, 16th Regiment, now found herself confronting the Belliang Army on the forest front.
"..."
Marie anxiously scanned the crowd of retreating 5th Division troops, hoping to spot Ernest or Robert.
But being short, it was nearly impossible for her to pick them out in the throng of bustling soldiers.
Moreover, Marie's company had been stationed some distance away from where the 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment, had been deployed.
No matter how high she jumped—higher than herself, even—it would be impossible for Marie to find Ernest or Robert.
"Damn it, we have to charge at those Belliang bastards in the forest again."
The 6th Division might have suffered terrible losses in the Battle of Bertagne Forest, but some, like Marie, had survived through sheer luck.
They struggled desperately to suppress their fear as grim memories of the hellish Bertagne Forest crept back.
"Ha! We're just fighting losers who ran away after their defeat. What's there to be so worried about?"
Those who had joined after the breakthrough at Bertagne Forest, or just before the final assault, simply couldn't grasp that kind of fear.
During the last breakthrough operation in Bertagne Forest, Belliang's troops had run out of shells for the Balt Battery and, armed only with powder guns, had made their final, desperate stand.
After that, the battles inside Belliang had seemed like little more than a stroll in the park, and they had won easily.
"Don't talk nonsense and keep your head on straight, you idiot bastard."
"What? What did you just say, you little—"
"I don't care if you get yourself killed, but if you screw up your job and die and drag me down with you, I'm not having it."
Those who had survived Bertagne Forest looked down on the ones who were letting their guard down.
And with good reason.
To them, anyone who hadn't experienced the Battle of Bertagne Forest seemed like a helpless baby who couldn't even take their first steps.
"..."
Amid the flurry of soldiers hustling across the front line, not a single person approached Marie or tried to talk to her. Every last member of the 3rd Company, 2nd Battalion dreaded her.
Right after the war began, Marie had been deployed to Bertagne Forest, and now she was one of the very few soldiers in the company who had managed to survive the longest.
This small, young girl was the most experienced fighter in the company.
Her ruthlessness in action was chilling, her attacks aggressive to the point of cruelty.
It was as if she ignored her own life entirely, pouring everything she had into killing the enemy.
But that aggressiveness wasn't reserved for the enemy alone; Marie could be just as fierce with her own allies.
She'd never gone so far as to attack with her weapon, Balt, but she was so harsh that nobody even thought of getting close.
Even the company commander hesitated to speak to Marie if he could avoid it.
Yet there were rare moments when Marie let down her guard, when she talked about Ernest and Robert.
Whenever word reached her about Ernest, the Son of a Hero who had become the stuff of propaganda, the hard, ferocious scowl on her face would soften just a little.
In fact, Marie would quietly talk about Ernest from time to time—and naturally, she'd bring up Robert as well.
That's how the company members came to know at least a little about Ernest and Robert.
And when they saw Marie hugging them and sobbing uncontrollably in Narvaing, they realized that her stories were really true.
To the company, Marie seemed a bit more human than before—even if she was still terrifying.
Despite being an outsider within the company, Marie had solidified her place through sheer ability and was accepted by them all.
Yet inwardly, she kept repeating the names of the two people she absolutely had to kill.
'Bertrand Belliang Lafayette. Estelle Pouarrié.'
Both of them would be here.
Maybe she wouldn't run into them, but if she did, she was determined to kill them without fail.
Because of those two, Ernest and Robert had almost died.
Especially for Ernest, they'd stooped to all sorts of dirty tricks to try to kill him.
There was no doubt they'd try to do it again.
'I have to protect them. I have to kill those bastards here and now—so I can protect Ernest and Robert.'
Marie clenched her battered hands into fists.
Her muddy blue eyes glinted with fierce determination and lethal intent.
On her deathly pale face, so wan that the veins showed beneath the skin, it was only her eyes that still burned with life.
"Senior Captain Marie... No, never mind. Go ahead and finish what you were doing."
The company commander, spotting Marie as he looked around, started to approach her and say something, but the moment she met his eyes, he flinched and backed off.
He was ten years older than Marie and a hereditary noble.
Yet, even knowing that Marie was just a lowborn Aeblonian girl, he still found her intimidating.
First of all, thanks to the relentless psychological torture from the ruthless Ernest Krieger, Marie had become so impeccably composed that even the best-educated noble from an old family would be hard-pressed to find fault with her.
Even though she was an Aeblonian and a just-minted noble, to anyone looking at her, she seemed every bit the part of a true noble.
Next, Marie lacked that sense of defeat so common among the Fiders.
If anyone tried to treat her carelessly like the other Fiders, it seemed she would use her rank as Senior Captain to fight back just as forcefully.
And finally, after seeing firsthand how she fought, no one dared to treat her lightly.
She had never attacked her own allies, but the sheer ferocity she displayed made it look as though, if she wanted to, she could crush and kill an ally at any moment.
Marie, seeming utterly isolated from those around her, glared fiercely at the soldiers who were actually much larger than her and blocking her view in the forest beyond, steeling her resolve to kill.
***
"We definitely have to do something before that gets any thicker."
Baltracher Isaac of the 13th Regiment, 1st Battalion, 2nd Company, who had returned to the plains after the 6th Division took over, ran a rough hand over his face and sighed.
Having experienced the triple trench line during the Bertagne Forest breakthrough, Isaac couldn't hide his anxiety when he saw the Konchanya defensive line, which had become even more solid compared to the first time he saw it a few days ago.
Right now, it seems best to just avoid fighting and move past it, but as soon as the next war breaks out, we'll be risking our lives charging that line.
Officers like Ernest or Robert might get promoted and pulled off the front lines, but as a Fider, Isaac had no such option.
"We have to do something, but right now, the Empire doesn't have the capacity to handle it."
Ernest, standing with his arms crossed, spoke in a voice tinged with a sigh.
His mood, much like his posture, was quite sullen; even though he understood why the Imperial Army was pushing to take control of the forest, he still had plenty of complaints about the decision.
The 16th and 17th Regiments would suffer terrible losses.
Ernest's friends were there—and Marie, who was like a younger sister to him, was there too.
The war with Belliang had only just ended, and now someone might die in another battle.
"If we make a wrong move, not only could we lose the defensive line we worked so hard to build, but the entire 2nd Corps might be severely weakened, making it difficult to maintain control over Belliang.
Things are already bad enough after the former king's suicide, and at this rate, the Independence Army might really rise up in force. So many people have died to capture Belliang. All those deaths could end up being for nothing."
"..."
When Ernest, looking at the bigger picture, spoke about the potential consequences if the next offensive failed, Isaac fell silent and rubbed his face, at a loss for words.
He wanted to criticize the 2nd Corps for recklessly trying to seize control of the forest, but after seeing the Konchanya defensive line, he couldn't.
Even Isaac knew well enough how hard it would be to break through it head-on.
There were plenty of reasons to attack—and just as many to hold back.
What made the difference was whether you had to fight on the field yourself, or could command safely from the rear.
Being on the front lines inevitably narrowed your perspective out of self-preservation, while the safety of the rear allowed you to decide with a broader outlook.
The only problem was, their opponent was just too formidable.
If it weren't for Bertrand, even the soldiers out on the field would have supported attacking the forest by now.
In fact, they probably would have succeeded in capturing it during the previous battle.
Could the 16th and 17th Regiments even manage to hold the front line against Bertrand?
He couldn't even hope for them to seize the forest through a successful attack; he just wished they wouldn't lose the hard-won defensive line.
"…For now, let's set aside what we can't do anything about, no matter how much we complain, and focus on what's right in front of us."
With his mind pounding from so many thoughts, Ernest decided to concentrate on the immediate problem at hand.
"They say we'll only pretend to attack to draw their attention, but either way, we'll have to go on the offensive. Even the slightest mistake will get us wiped out by concentrated fire."
Ernest pointed to the spot they would be attacking as he spoke.
"The assault itself is a big problem, but we also have to be careful when retreating. If we fall back hastily after the signal, we'll be exposed not just to enemy bullets but also to artillery shells."
"As for the shells… I honestly don't think I can do anything about them…"
"The manual says to focus on using the Balt Wind to slow them down and land them on the ground, but that hardly seems realistic."
"With maybe about four people… hmm… If it was flat ground, maybe we could manage something."
Baltracher Isaac, who currently had the most combat experience in the 1st Battalion, replied cautiously, recalling the power of the cannons.
"Of course, I can't be sure. I've never actually tried anything against cannons myself."
Just in case, Isaac added that it was just his personal opinion.
Isaac had been directly exposed in front of gun emplacements twice—once right after breaking through Bertagne Forest, and once in front of Lanosel.
Both times, he hadn't dared do anything against the cannons—he had simply hit the ground and hoped for the best.
He'd never actually tried to do anything about it.
"No one's planning to face down the cannons anyway, so you don't need to worry that much."
"…Maybe that's how Captain Fox feels, but who knows what the higher-ups want."
"I'm sure the Battalion Commander and Regimental Commander don't want that either. And please, don't call me 'Fox.'"
"Just do what you always do, sir."
"What could I possibly do? I'm just a Company Commander."
"But you've always found a way. Over and over."
"..."
Ernest fell silent, his lips trembling as if he wanted to say something.
With a sigh, he spoke weakly.
"Maybe so, but at least this time, there's nothing I can do. How am I supposed to change anything in an open area like this, fighting a high ground battle?"
"..."
There's no cover, and all I have to work with is a single Infantry Company.
When the order comes, we charge; when the order to retreat comes, we fall back.
There's nothing else I can do. The very thought of it gives me a headache, like my head's going to split open.
***
The Imperial Army rested for a day after rotating their troops. Then, after having a hearty breakfast, they acted as if they weren't going to attack at all—just going about things as usual and waiting for the operation to begin.
"Wow, look at the mister there looking like soldiers right before the attack."
"…Sir, calling them 'misters' is a bit much."
"If you're over twenty, you're a 'mister.'"
"..."
"But seriously, anyone could tell just by looking—they look exactly like Soldiers Right Before the Attack. Even if you turn it upside down, even from far away, even those Konchanya bastards could tell we're about to attack."
Robert watched the Imperial soldiers, who were blatantly on the verge of attacking while pretending not to be, and spoke up.
"They're all but shouting at the top of their lungs that they're about to charge. At the very least, it could be some kind of deception, you know? Make them second-guess. Right?"
"Why don't you go try that, sir."
"A commander can't just wander off alone. Let's go together."
"What? Why should I? Go by yourself."
"If you keep that up, I might just tell you to go alone. If you're a soldier, you have to follow orders."
"Must be nice being a noble."
"Nice? I got dragged here because I'm a noble."
"I'm a commoner and I still got dragged in."
"If I were a commoner, they wouldn't have taken me. My father's rich."
"Damn."
Robert chatted with the soldiers, trying to shake off the fear and anxiety.
By now, Robert was a veteran platoon leader in his own right, but every time before a battle, his hands and feet would still tremble from fear.
"To be honest, I have a really bad feeling about this—like we're properly screwed."
Staring at the Konchanya defensive line, Robert let out his army-learned foul language.
"As for us, we'll probably just put on a show of fighting, but it won't be the same over by the forest."
"Even pretending to fight is scary enough."
"In the forest, it's the real deal, though. Better us than them."
"That's true."
"But if they all get wiped out and the front line collapses and we lose the forest, doesn't that mean we'll have to go back into the woods?"
"Are you crazy? Why would you even think of something that awful?"
"I really don't want to admit it, but it feels like we're the best fighters here."
"..."
Against their will, the 2nd Company had become the elite of the 1st Battalion, the elite of the 13th Regiment, and the pride of the 5th Division.
In the previous battle, they had more than proven their strength.
If they lost the forest in this fight, it would throw the whole 2nd Corps into crisis.
Even if they suffered heavy losses, they would have to form a new front line in the woods—no matter what.
And when it came to dangerous jobs like that, how could the 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment possibly be left out?
"1st Platoon Leader, the Company Commander says to get ready for battle."
"Alright."
And so the moment they'd all been dreading finally arrived. Robert clenched his trembling hand into a fist, replied in his usual carefree tone, and then sprang to his feet with a big stretch.
"Alright, let's get to work!"
"Oh, man… damn it…"
"I really need to pee."
"You should've gone earlier. Just wet yourself if you have to."
"Ugh, that's disgusting."
Led by Robert, whose wit and charm were second to none, the 1st Platoon grumbled nonstop but moved quickly all the same.
Compared to other platoons in the company, the 1st Platoon seemed far more adaptable.
Tension was in the air, but it never grew excessive.
Robert's influence played a part, but it was mostly because many in their ranks had survived a lot of battles and gained experience over time.
As Robert had said, compared to other units, the 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion, 13th Regiment really was elite—mainly because it had so many seasoned soldiers.
That's probably why they kept getting stuck with the toughest assignments, and it didn't feel entirely fair.
"We're all set."
"Alright."
As soon as the 1st Platoon finished preparing, Robert reported to Ernest.
Ernest wore an expression of indifference as he stared fixedly at Konchanya's defensive line.
Still, Robert knew better than anyone just how much Ernest was worrying as Company Commander, how heavily the responsibility weighed on him.
The burden probably felt like it might break him at any moment.
"I knew it, I should've done everything I could to date a blonde beauty when we were in Narvaing. Maybe not as stunning as Major Kirchner, but there were a lot of gorgeous women around…"
Robert let out a deep sigh as he spoke.
Only then did Ernest roll his eyes over to glance at Robert, a look of contempt flickering in his gaze.
"So what, you're planning to chase women simply by comparing their looks, just looking for a replacement for Major Kirchner?"
"A replacement? Beauty is different in every person, in every setting, you know!"
"You talk a good game. But if you actually stood in front of one, you'd be so nervous you wouldn't say a word."
"Hey! No, I mean, that's not—come on! It's just… kind of embarrassing, okay!"
"All you ever do is talk, but when it comes down to actually doing something, you just run away. If you ever actually met Major Kirchner, you wouldn't be able to say a word."
"That's not true! My feelings for Major Kirchner are real!"
"Sure they are."
"They are! Next time I see her, I'll propose on the spot!"
"I'd love to see that."
"Wow… you're such an asshole."
"You said the same thing in front of Marie. Watch your mouth."
"Even if I do, the guys hanging around Marie are always running their mouths anyway."
"You're not the same as those other guys to Marie. What you say and do has a bigger impact on her."
"So is that why you made her so cold?"
"What? Me?"
"Marie turned out the way she is because of you! You're always so brutally honest!"
"Is that a problem?"
"It is!"
While they bickered over nonsense, Ernest found himself smiling just like he used to back in the day. Robert grumbled and gave Ernest a light smack on the shoulder—assaulting his superior officer for real this time.
For a brief moment, it almost felt like they were back at the Military Academy.
Ernest set down his heavy burdens for just a second.
But it didn't last long.
The Imperial Army soon finished all its preparations for battle and began readying for the charge, and the face of Ernest, who for an instant had looked like an ordinary seventeen-year-old boy, hardened into the stiff, weathered lines of a withered tree.
'Maybe it'd be better for Ernest if he just got promoted quickly.'
That was what Robert thought as he looked at his friend. He wanted Ernest to be promoted to Major as soon as possible and move on from being a Company Commander.
After all, unless you were in a special position like a Ranger Company Commander, nine times out of ten a major served as a staff officer.
That way, he wouldn't have to bear the crushing responsibilities that came with command.
Of course, there was no way Ernest would simply leave Robert behind.
Robert knew he was one of the big reasons Ernest so fiercely resisted promotion.
Once Ernest was gone and a new company commander arrived, there was no way he'd look out for Robert the way Ernest did.
'What a shameful, pathetic life this is.'
Robert bitterly reflected on his own powerless, fragile situation. Back at the Military Academy, everyone used to say, "Jimman would make a perfect quartermaster."
That phrase stings so much now.
If only I'd been a little better in battle, I wouldn't have needed my friend to protect me just to stay alive.
Or maybe, just like they said, I really should have taken a position as a quartermaster.
"Focus. It's about to start."
"I am focusing."
"Of course you are."
Ernest cautioned Robert, who was clearly not paying attention.
Robert grumbled and adjusted his helmet.
Piiiit—! Piiiit—! Piiiit—!
A moment later, sharp whistles echoed throughout the Imperial Army's camp.
It was the order to charge.
The soldiers shouted as they rushed out of the campsite and ran down the shallow hillside.
When they were about halfway, the cannons of the Konchanya artillerymen, stationed on the opposite hill, began to roar to life.
The battle had begun.