Marked for Assassination
“Reporting! Contrary to the initial momentum, the enemy’s fierce resistance is making it far harder to seize the walls than anticipated!”
Baren Seto stroked his chin at the report from the front lines.
“We should’ve taken the walls by now and been reorganizing our lines. Something’s off.”
The battle wasn’t unfolding according to plan.
It was inevitable that the command staff, who had been brimming with confidence at the start, would now feel deflated.
“I don’t remember them putting up that much fight before. This is really strange.”
“We’ve got the numerical advantage, but if this drags on, our losses will be too high. Tough spot.”
Voices of concern rose here and there.
They grated on him, but Baren still had some leeway.
“Looks like the enemy commander’s better than we expected. But it’s fine. As long as we stick to the plan…”
“Reporting! Lieutenant Colonel Iren has just returned!”
An officer burst into the tent.
His expression was grim, but with his head bowed, Baren couldn’t see it.
“Faster than I thought. Report.”
This was the news he’d been waiting for.
Baren’s face brightened—but only for a moment.
“We destroyed two mess halls, but with one serious injury, two minor ones, and three captured as prisoners, the mission failed!”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
Baren denied the unbelievable news.
Before he could recover, Lieutenant Colonel Iren himself entered the tent.
“Sir.”
Iren saluted Major General Krem.
Having just heard of the failure, all eyes from the commanders turned to him.
“What happened, Lieutenant Colonel?”
“The mission failed. The enemy knew about it in advance and had special forces ambushed near the mess halls.”
“Is that true?!”
This was a plan discussed only among the top brass, so Krem couldn’t believe it.
“Not just any special forces—three assassin squad members were taken prisoner. With that kind of firepower at the mess halls instead of the walls, there’s no doubt.”
Iren glanced sideways at Baren as he continued.
“With intel leaking to the enemy, any further assassination ops would be suicide.”
“So you’re pulling out of the fight?”
Iren nodded at Krem’s words.
“I’ll follow any additional orders from HQ, but one reckless op is enough.”
He could’ve quashed this with his legion commander authority, but the assassin squad wasn’t something to manhandle.
Especially not when they had such clear justification.
“Understood. I’ll talk to HQ. Stand by and rest.”
“Sir!”
Iren saluted and left the tent.
“What now?”
Krem eyed the brooding Baren, who answered swiftly.
“The enemy won’t abandon the walls in this mood—they’ll commit more troops.”
“Probably.”
“We held back on tactics assuming we’d breach quickly, but split forces and hit the north and east gates.”
“How do we get over the walls?”
“Chop trees from the woods behind us for ladders. Start now, and we’ll have them by afternoon.”
Krem pondered Baren’s tactic, scanning the commanders.
“What do you all think?”
“If they’re resisting that hard, probing elsewhere sounds good.”
“But ladders over those walls? Easy?”
At the worried voices, Baren spoke again.
“There’ll be sacrifices, but they can’t hold against a push. Key is the east gate—hit it thirty minutes after the north to create an opening.”
“Force a gap that way. 12th Division commander.”
“Sir!”
Brigadier General Geril stood with a sharp response.
“Take your division and strike the north gate. Minimize losses and deceive them. Can you do it?”
“I’ll give my all to carry out the orders!”
“I believe you. 13th and 14th Division commanders.”
“Sir!! Legion commander!!”
Brigadier Generals Galdman and York responded to Krem’s call.
“You two breach the east gate before dawn and seize the inner keep. Overall command to Colonel Almont.”
“Yes, sir!”
Colonel Almont, the deputy legion commander, stood.
“It’s yours. Wash away the past frustrations and failures.”
“I’ll bring back the enemy’s heads and the victory report!”
“Op starts at dawn tomorrow. No time—move fast.”
“Yes, sir!!!!”
With direction set, the meeting ended, and commanders mobilized their forces.
“Which battalion?”
“3rd Infantry Battalion—1,200 for mess duty!”
“Hold on a moment.”
Short on hands, I was thrown into the mix, moving nonstop.
Damn, this is killing me. How many hours has it been?
Supply company commander or not, I hadn’t eaten a single meal yet.
“Captain! Battalion commander’s here!”
As I loaded food wagons and prepped for the next, Ciel approached with a soldier.
“Sir!”
“Heard the mess halls got hit. You okay?”
“Nearly died, but made it back alive.”
“Glad. Thought it was bad when I first heard.”
“It was bad.”
After a quick check-in, she got to the point.
“Urgent order from above—you need to head outside the walls.”
“Outside… the walls?”
The order was so absurd my voice shook.
Not even recon—why go out there?
It was as good as a death sentence.
“Enemy’s food stocks are lower than expected. But we’ve got some left in the fields behind the north gate.”
The farmlands stretching beyond the north gate.
We’d moved what we could, but about thirty percent lingered in the warehouses.
“No way.”
“Yeah. Burn or retrieve it—orders came down.”
The good stuff’s all in, leaving the questionable—but still, they’re worried.
Made sense.
Bad taste or not, food was food.
“Check it out, decide what to save or ditch.”
“No choice. I’ll go.”
Not thrilled, but with folks fighting on the walls, this was the least I could do.
“Thanks. Escort’s waiting at the north gate—go with them.”
“Who’s the escort?”
“No idea. Wasn’t specified.”
“Got it. I’ll report back. Sir.”
I prayed it was someone Derek-tough and mounted up for the north gate.
“Sir!”
Unlike the raging south gate, the north was calm.
Not slacking, though.
“Going out for recon—any word?”
“Yes, sir! Confirmed. Use the small gate ahead. Open it?”
The guard pointed to a door for two abreast.
“Waiting for my escort…”
“You’re late, Lieutenant.”
A hand on my shoulder as I spoke to the guard.
The shadow’s owner.
“Captain Eden…?”
No need to turn—the voice and entrance gave it away.
“Captain? News travels slow. Look closely.”
I turned at Eden’s words. Nine bamboo leaves—a major’s insignia.
“Promoted…?”
“Credit for catching Sadis came my way too. Plus, I’ve been slaving for the Empire.”
“Ah, yes. Congratulations.”
Grudging, my reply was curt.
Personality reviews not part of promotions? End times.
What a joke of an organization.
“No sincerity.”
“Happier than for my own promotion—what’re you saying?”
“Fine. Heard you’ve been a star supply captain too. French fries?”
“Yes.”
“Delicious. Only gripe—they get soggy fast. Fix?”
He’d clearly tried them.
“Nature of frying. Can’t help it.”
If I knew a way to keep ’em crisp all day, I’d be a billionaire back home.
“Shame.”
“When’d you get to Rimir Castle?”
“Me? Two weeks before you.”
“What?”
Thought he’d just arrived—earlier than me?
Unthought-of.
“That surprising?”
“Never saw you.”
“Why seek you out with no business? Missed me?”
Fatigue washed over me at Major Eden’s—formerly Captain’s—words.
“Sure, let’s say that.”
“Too shy to admit it. No time—let’s move.”
Eden mounted, then approached the guard.
“Open the gate.”
“Yes, sir! Safe return! Sir!!!”
Major outranked lieutenant—guard’s salute twice as loud as mine.
“Move it.”
“On it.”
I mounted and followed Eden out.
“Eyes sharp. Enemy scouts likely.”
“Already scanning. Now spill—why tag along?”
No way intel’s star joined for recon by chance.
“Sharper now.”
“Desperation hones it.”
“Wrong. You were sharp from day one—or you’d be dead.”
Teasing tone, but not funny.
“Thanks for the praise.”
“No fun. Nothing special—just heard you’re an assassin squad target.”
“Assassin squad… what?!”