Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Yannick Unit (2)
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Amid the roaring cheers of the crowd, I received my knighthood. No sooner had the victory ceremony ended than I was roped into a parade, circling the capital once around.
After that, I attended the victory banquet reserved for officers of lieutenant colonel rank and above, standing there like a wooden post as veteran generals shot me sidelong glares and jealous junior officers glared daggers.
Swipe.
I quietly slipped away.
From there, I left the palace and joined the festival unfolding in the square ahead.
The square was a madhouse where junior NCOs, veterans, and civilians mingled in wild revelry.
"This is what a festival should be!"
I got swept up in the festive mood too.
"Looks fun. Mind if I join?"
"Plenty of room!"
As I was enjoying the festivities in full swing, the 15th Legion Commander and the 8th Legion Commander showed up.
Generals crashing their subordinates' party. Talk about no sense of tact.
"Oh! Lady Langrid!"
"Why ask the obvious!"
...Turns out I was the one lacking tact.
The 15th Legion Commander was incredibly popular among soldiers and civilians alike.
"The booze here isn't fit for your status. Figured as much, so I snuck some good stuff from the palace. Come on, everyone—bottoms up!"
"Long live Lady Langrid!"
"Long live the 15th Legion Commander!"
She knew exactly how to mingle with the ranks, blending in perfectly with just a few bottles of liquor. She looked right at home in a setting like this.
Thanks to the 15th Legion Commander, the atmosphere heated up even more.
Which left me as the odd one out again, standing like a wooden post.
For me, the princess's ally—the 15th Legion Commander—was someone I couldn't relax around.
"Why skulk over there?"
"You're the star of today's event! Get over here!"
As I hung back, gauging the mood, the 15th and 8th Legion Commanders called me over.
"Since you're here, mind explaining why you dozed off during the victory ceremony personally hosted by Her Highness the Princess?"
"Wahahaha!"
I'd just endured dirty looks at the palace banquet over that very thing, so my face involuntarily twisted.
The onlookers burst into laughter at the sight.
"Say a few words at least. You looked half-asleep earlier, so even Her Highness didn't press you. If nothing else, give us a toast."
At the 15th Legion Commander's urging, the others chimed in.
No choice—I raised my glass.
"To our comrades who couldn't be here today."
With that, I poured some onto the ground.
"...To our comrades."
Vupov and the veterans stood and followed suit.
That sparked it off.
"To our comrades!"
"To our comrades!"
Soldiers across the square rose as one and drained their glasses.
"To the nameless heroes!"
Civilians joined in with words of mourning and tribute.
The square, a frenzy of revelry moments ago, fell solemnly silent in an instant.
"Can't have you giving toasts at these things from now on."
To our comrades.
The 15th Legion Commander shook her head once and poured her drink onto the ground.
I couldn't tell if the crowd was drunk on booze, the vibrating stench of alcohol filling the square, or something else entirely.
One thing was clear, though.
Thud!
Splat.
From then on, people started collapsing left and right, unable to hold themselves up.
To make matters worse, those who couldn't handle their liquor began vomiting everywhere.
The square filled with the stench of booze and puke in no time.
We'd been chugging on empty stomachs after all the ceremonies and banquets.
Breathing in the onslaught of odors from all sides, the alcohol hit me hard.
After that, my memory gets hazy.
But...
"...?"
I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar place.
A lavishly decorated bedroom.
"Ugh."
My head felt like it would split open.
Even so, I knew for sure this wasn't my quarters.
Twitch.
A small sound came from somewhere.
I instinctively turned toward it.
Beyond the curtain partitioning the room, I sensed movement.
Scramble.
For some reason, by the time I came to, I was already pretending to sleep.
Step, step.
Footsteps approached.
"If you're awake, why not just open your eyes?"
The low, steady voice was familiar.
All too familiar—someone whose voice I absolutely shouldn't be hearing.
"Planning to keep faking it? Fine then. There's only one bed, and I'm not sleeping on the floor..."
"I'm up!"
I bolted upright in bed.
And froze solid.
"......"
"......"
The 15th Legion Commander stood there, arms crossed, staring at me.
Considering her usual impeccably uniformed appearance, she looked quite disheveled.
But that dishevelment barely registered.
Her left arm was missing entirely.
"Gonna keep staring?"
"Sorry!"
Realizing the situation late, I hurriedly turned my back to her.
"Any idea what happened...?"
"Exactly as you see. We kept drinking after leaving the square. You got blackout drunk and claimed my bed. Aside from the minor incident where you puked on me midway, that's it."
"...Sorry!"
"Unnecessary apology. I dragged you here in the first place."
Come to think of it, I vaguely remembered her grabbing me.
"I had something to discuss. In the end, I didn't get to bring it up."
"....."
I reflexively started to apologize but shut my mouth.
"Forget it. You can turn around now."
Hesitantly, I turned back.
Not quite her usual self, but decently put-together.
What caught my eye more was the silver prosthetic connected at her elbow.
"First time seeing a prosthetic?"
"My apologies."
"No need—it's not like I didn't freak out the first time I saw it. The imperial bastards do have skilled hands. Who thinks to make something like this?"
The princess had gone to great lengths to procure it, or so I'd heard.
She demonstrated it proudly in front of me, the movements remarkably natural.
"Makes you think this might be what sparked Her Highness's dreams of changing Thracia. She was furious we couldn't make something like this ourselves. Must've been a huge shock."
While Thracia stagnated in tradition, the continent's far side churned out marvels—it had to feel stifling.
"But Her Highness wasn't the only one."
No way she's talking about me.
...Guess she is.
Her steady gaze said as much.
"Thracia's high command is a bunch of incompetents."
She spoke after a brief pause, her tone oddly familiar.
"Astoria's been training crossbowmen en masse to counter our Bluecoats, but high command sent them in without countermeasures and got them slaughtered. Even without the mage corps, we'd have been crushed."
"P-Please stop."
"There's more."
With the mage corps' firepower outmatching the Bluecoats' breakthrough power, mass charges were suicide.
Shock cavalry with predictable paths were just fodder for mages and crossbows.
"Either boost mobility like the light cavalry to dodge volleys and hit the flanks, or disperse them in small teams across the formation."
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I must've been way drunker than I thought.
To spill my guts like that.
"I spoke out of turn in my drunkenness. Please forget it. It was all nonsense."
Too late for damage control—it didn't land.
"Hard to dismiss as nonsense when I still remember how you handled the Bluecoats in the last battle."
Fortunately, there wasn't a hint of blame on her face.
"The day I join high command, your ideas will be implemented."
At least it was a silver lining.
A drunken slip or not, if it curbed high command's idiocy, it benefited everyone.
"Seeing this, it was wise of her to grant you a knighthood."
Truth be told, a knighthood wasn't much.
After the Trakieri royal family's insane equal inheritance pushed nobles' power to fragment with each generation, most were now nobles in name only.
Even those with fiefs lacked real clout, so what weight did a landless, honorary knighthood carry?
No complaints here.
I'd already gotten a two-rank special promotion for Gaillard. Promoting me again in under a year wasn't easy, even for the princess.
Plus, I'd already secured informal compensation in our last meeting.
No reason to gripe.
And a knighthood wasn't entirely meaningless.
Bluecoat units led by knighted officers could use unique names instead of numbers—a tremendous honor.
Such named units were treated as "regiments" rather than "companies," granting significant discretion.
In short, with a good pretext, they could operate independently without reporting up the chain.
"We'd planned to preemptively implement our ideas with the princess and produce results, but last night changed my mind."
What the hell did drunk-me do?
"From personnel selection to unit composition—you have full authority."
Her total backing overnight made it seem like I'd done something huge, but I couldn't remember a thing.
"I'll report to the princess myself, so start preparations now."
I instinctively snapped to attention.
"Of course, the responsibility falls on you too."
Thracia's military always pinned blame on us grunts when things went south—what else was new?
"Dismissed."
"Yes! Sorry for the intrusion! Good night!"
For Thracia.
I saluted and turned to leave.
"You weren't planning to leave like that, were you?"
The 15th Legion Commander stopped me.
"Rumors about me? Whatever. No one dares confront me to my face—it's a hassle-free life."
But you're different, aren't you?
"Ah."
Only then did I realize how undressed I was.
I snatched up my uniform from the floor.
Ugh, puke smell.
No time to be picky—I endured the creeping stench and got dressed.
As I headed for the door...
"Oh, right—about last night."
She stopped me again.
"Nothing happened."
"Pardon? Understood."
"Were you hoping otherwise?"
"...?"
I stood there blankly, then realized it was a joke.
What kinda dad-joke is that?
I gave a half-hearted salute and bolted from the room.
With the mindset of a recon scout infiltrating and exfiltrating enemy lines, I stayed alert in all directions and moved swiftly.
Thus, I escaped the inn where the 15th Legion Commander was staying.
After that, it was smooth sailing.
Soldiers who'd overdone it the night before and failed to make it home littered the city.
The whole capital was a mess.
My stained, wrinkled clothes blended right in.
"My, Lieutenant?"
Mrs. Dariya thought otherwise.
**
"The schedule's changed a bit."
I wondered why Mrs. Dariya had come all this way—she had a message.
"This morning, the Guard Captain and Capital Defense Commander begged an audience with Her Highness. Didn't catch details, but they were practically in tears."
Tensions had boiled over more than expected, causing issues across the capital. Not just outside the palace—generals inside had gotten into fistfights.
High-ranking generals brawling like thugs.
Classic Thracia military.
"As such, all scheduled events and festivals today are canceled."
Music to my ears.
I was dying from the hangover anyway.
"From here on, by order of Her Highness the Princess."
Mrs. Dariya's gentle tone turned stiff.
I straightened up instinctively.
"Lieutenant Yannick, return to your unit and await my contact. Unfulfilled promises will be honored there. Delay, and complications may arise—leave immediately upon hearing this from Mrs. Dariya."
The sudden expulsion order sounded urgent.
"I'll head out now."
"I'll pack your gear and send it to your post. Your uniform too. You weren't planning to leave the gates like that, were you?"
"Can't exactly go naked..."
"Just in case, I brought my husband's clothes. He always came home a wreck after festivals."
I stripped off my uniform without hesitation and handed it over.
She stared incredulously at my bare chest—where'd my shirt go?—but I played dumb and donned what she offered.
"Downstairs, there's a gift from Her Highness—don't forget it."
Got it. I headed straight to the first floor.
"Provisions, water, and travel funds inside."
A Redcoat approached with a bag as I descended.
This the gift?
"And this."
As I sulked, the Redcoat dismounted and handed over the reins.
"No need to return it."
His white steed had caught my eye—clearly no ordinary horse—and it turned out to be the princess's gift.
Yahoo!
The alcohol cleared right up as I vaulted onto the royal gift horse.
Thrilled by the unexpected present, but there was reason behind sending me off with such a steed—I wheeled it around.
"Prime northern pureblood stock—the only one even in the royal stables. Her merciful Highness granted it specially; cherish and care for it dearly."
"The sword on the saddle is an imperial blade, also from Her Highness—mind you don't lose or damage it."
"For Bluecoats who swap warhorses like shoes..."
I shot the babbling Redcoat a look and spurred the horse hard.
"Convey my thanks to Her Highness!"
"W-Wait!"
Leaving his shout behind, I galloped toward the gates.
Sure enough, a pack of Redcoats pursued from behind.
"Lieutenant Yannick?"
Same Redcoats, but different vibe.
"Halt! I have urgent word! Stop your horse!"
These must be the "complications" the princess warned about for lingering.
A chase unfolded right in the heart of the capital.
Whoa! This speed is insane!
The royal gift horse didn't slow amid the capital's crowded streets. It even dodged obstacles without my input, as if reading my mind.
The Redcoats' yells faded.
Too soon to relax, though.
"Stop!"
More Redcoats burst from an alley.
A near-collision—perilous.
"Whoa there."
"Argh!"
Then some men jumped into the Redcoats' path.
"Outta the way!"
"Sorry! As you see, I'm not exactly fit to move..."
Their faces rang a bell—veterans and junior NCOs from last night's festival.
"Close the gates!"
At the Redcoats' order, gate guards raised the drawbridge in confusion.
One-third up—too steep to jump.
Still, I didn't slow.
"Royal gift horse! Let's go!"
It leaped the drawbridge spectacularly.
"He jumped that?!"
"What horsemanship...!"
The Redcoats cried out in shock.
-Pursue him. Or what'll we tell His Highness the Prince...
-Impossible! Look at that speed...
Even that faded into the distance.