Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: A Bluecoat Beyond Bluecoats (1)
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The Thracia army was riddled with problems.
No, the military itself was inherently a place full of issues.
Things that could never happen elsewhere occurred as a matter of course, and incidents never ceased.
If you gathered all the absurdities of this world and molded them into something, that would be the military.
To that extent, the army was a hotbed of irrationality.
By this point, such a question might arise.
With so many problems, how does the military even function?
Why not just resolve them?
It was an utterly reasonable question.
But just because the question was logical didn't mean the answer would be, too.
-It doesn't become a problem until someone makes it one.
Unfortunately, that was exactly the conclusion the Thracia army had reached.
The Thracia army gritted its teeth, ignored the problems, and sometimes even encouraged them under the guise of tradition.
They even treated those who raised issues as the real problem, silencing them.
But exceptions existed everywhere.
"Do you have any sense of awareness as a soldier or not?!"
The man before me happened to be one of those exceptions.
"I seriously doubt whether you possess even the barest awareness as a soldier!"
Evgen Sanov Major—the deputy legion commander of the 8th Legion, recently promoted for his contributions in the last battle—slammed his desk repeatedly.
"Forming a private organization within the military! And selecting only Astorians, no less!"
The major glared at me as if I were a traitor.
"If you wanted to play noble games so badly, you should've stayed with your family. Why enlist and stir up trouble?"
It was Evgen Sanov Major, who already saw me as a thorn in his side.
The timing was perfect for him.
The commander who protected me was absent, and he wielded the immense authority of the deputy commander.
On top of that, he had a decent pretext.
Forming unauthorized private groups within the military was strictly forbidden in the Thracia army—at least on paper, regardless of enforcement—and could even warrant execution in severe cases.
The fact that he hadn't immediately court-martialed me was almost surprising.
"Speak up. But choose your words carefully. Depending on your response, you could face a military tribunal—minimum dishonorable discharge, maximum punishment equivalent to execution. Bear that in mind."
Seeing his smug demeanor, I understood.
He wanted to savor the victor's thrill against me before any tribunal.
"It was a unilateral decision they made without my involvement or encouragement."
"So even foreigners see you as an easy mark! That says plenty about your usual conduct!"
So he had no intention of listening.
"I submitted a written report yesterday."
I was certain he hadn't bothered checking the report I'd painstakingly submitted the day before.
"Do you think I'm so idle that I read every lieutenant's report personally?"
As expected.
How predictably true to form.
But alas.
"Then I suggest you check it now."
I had no intention of letting him bask in victory.
"I read trash like that when I feel like it. Who are you to order me around?"
"I politely suggest again. It would be wise to review the report."
"Insolent fool! Are you protesting over some report right now?!"
From his behavior, it seemed unlikely my report was safely filed away.
If he'd actually discarded it...
It would be regrettable for me, but far more so for him.
"The report I submitted yesterday included a royal letter attached."
If he'd arrogantly discarded or destroyed a letter bearing the royal seal without even checking...
He'd be in real trouble.
"What...? Adjutant! Adjutant, are you there?!"
The major, who had stared at me dumbfounded, frantically called for his adjutant.
"You called, sir?"
"Bring the documents I gave you yesterday—quickly!"
"The ones from yesterday? I incinerated them all per your orders."
The major collapsed as if crumbling, staring at his adjutant who seemed to ask, Did I do good?
"......?"
"You're dismissed."
I sent the adjutant away in place of the utterly dazed major.
"This is quite the mess, isn't it?"
I feigned sympathy.
Normally, he'd rage about why such an important matter was buried in a report like that, but this time, he didn't blame me.
He probably couldn't even think that far.
His dazed expression was almost pitiful.
Of course, considering his usual behavior, it was self-inflicted.
He was the one who'd nitpicked me endlessly, unable to stand me, and fed us false intel that endangered the entire 8th Legion.
Despite committing such grave errors, he'd ridden my coattails to promotion, only to betray that now and try to drag me to a military tribunal.
"...?"
On second thought, this guy was a real bastard.
Maybe I shouldn't help him.
"Spare me!"
...But his desperate clinging made it hard to ignore.
I hadn't expected him to grab my pant leg so openly.
He must have been truly panicked.
In a way, it was understandable.
Field-grade officers like him didn't promote automatically like company-grade ones; a single minor blemish on their record could end their career forever.
"I've been harsh toward you. I apologize. It was my narrow-mindedness. I couldn't stand how the commander ignored the staff and favored only you. I'm sorry."
His current attitude didn't feel overdone at all.
"Hmm."
I pondered for a moment.
Evgen Sanov Major was incompetent as a staff officer.
Frankly, he was useless in combat.
But in other areas, he had considerable talent.
For instance, managing unit logistics or organizing supply lines—he was among the best in the Thracia army.
Hadn't I benefited greatly from his meticulousness in the last battle?
The fact that Schrelgrad's discipline held up despite severed supplies was proof enough.
They all looked gaunt, but you can't make something from nothing.
Maybe now was the time to improve relations—or put him on a leash.
Thoughts were long; actions swift.
"Still, it's fortunate the adjutant burned the letter. If it had just been tossed and found somewhere unexpected, that would've been a real disaster."
A royal-sealed letter in a trash bin? Catastrophe.
Forget promotion; he'd face lèse-majesté charges, stripping his uniform—and possibly worse.
"Don't worry too much. It's the content that matters, not the paper. Royal letters are meant to be read and burned anyway, right?"
I soothed him gently.
"As long as you've memorized the contents, there shouldn't be an issue."
"Provided I don't go blabbing about it," I added.
Hope flickered on Evgen Sanov Major's face—only to turn to despair.
-It doesn't become a problem until someone makes it one.
Now, who was the problem here?
Since ancient times, Thracia had granted a grace period to those who surrendered during wartime rather than peacetime—typically 3 to 5 years of close observation and supervision.
Only after deeming their loyalty genuine would they be recognized as true defectors.
"So the royals appointed you as Otto von Bauer's supervisor."
The royal letter was an order appointing me as Otto von Bauer's overseer.
Judging by the date, it had been sent ahead of the victory celebration.
"Why you? No offense—just curious. Keeping an unvetted knight at the front lines carries risks."
The major, catching my eye, quickly clarified.
"I was the one who captured him, and he strongly requested it himself."
They probably figured that if Otto von Bauer tried anything, the Bluecoats could hunt him down swiftly.
"I don't fully buy it, but I get the gist."
Evgen Sanov Major nodded reluctantly, still looking uneasy.
"That leaves the Doppelzoltner. Unlike Otto von Bauer, they'll definitely be trouble. Harboring thirty elite mercenaries famed across the continent as personal retainers—and foreign ones at that."
He spoke with concern.
Since when do you care about me?
His sudden shift to my side was amusing, but I didn't show it.
"The clowns won't be a problem."
"You misunderstand. The moment you take them under your command, their food, lodging, expenses—everything becomes an issue."
The fortress's supplies belonged to the Thracia army, after all.
His points were valid.
"It's fine."
My answer remained the same.
"Are you even listening?"
Watching him frown, I realized.
Ah. Time to reveal my hidden status.
"Looks like news from the capital hasn't reached here yet."
I straightened up and drew the longsword from my waist.
"Fine blade—rare one. But this isn't the time to show it off, is it?"
"......"
This wasn't going as planned.
"Ahem. Look closely at the blade. See what's engraved?"
I held the sword where he could see the blade clearly.
"Knight Schrelgriff... Knight Schrelgriff... Knight?"
I sheathed the sword with a click.
"Knight Schrelgriff. The name of this sword—and my knighthood."
Evgen Sanov Major's eyes widened, then he nodded.
"I see. That changes everything."
A far milder reaction than I'd expected.
"No worries. I understand perfectly. A knighthood grants authority to lead an independent unit. Official orders should arrive soon."
Misreading my gaze, he rambled on.
Deflated, I slumped my shoulders.
With relations improved(?), I finally saw Evgen Sanov Major clearly.
As I'd thought, he suited the rear lines, not the front.
His battlefield judgment was poor, but his administrative and logistical skills were impeccable.
So I decided.
"How can I get the major into my unit?"
I'd recruit him as logistics chief for the newly forming Yannick Unit(?) in place of my own ineptitude there.
For now, his higher rank made it impossible.
"I don't know this Yannick Unit, but I'll handle related admin and support. Until it's officially formed."
For now, a cooperative relationship would suffice.
I'd figure out the rest later.
The military was a place where everything worked except the impossible.
As always, I'd find a way.
"Let's see..."
Unintentionally, with the defector knight and battlefield clowns joining, I dove into serious unit formation plans.
People often think cavalry units are all mounted troops—far from it.
Many in cavalry didn't ride.
Broadly, combat and support branches.
Combat: heavy cavalry up front, light cavalry behind to maximize gains.
Support: minimal engineers for construction and maintenance, infantry to assist on the field.
Endless subdivisions, but roughly that.
Frontline to Bluecoats, engineering and combat support to versatile clowns.
Otto von Bauer on hold—language barrier and his boar-like temperament.
"Official orders arrived today. They say to cooperate fully with your unit formation."
The awaited orders finally came.
Most urgent: Bluecoat reinforcements.
With fatigue and injuries, more had been evacuated, leaving only thirty under me.
To fight properly, I needed at least double.
Recruiting Bluecoats should be feasible.
Thracia's heavy cavalry suffered the heaviest losses; scattered survivors had nowhere to go.
"Should I request transfers from units or volunteers?"
I pondered how to attract the best.
"Just request volunteers."
Evgen Sanov Major dismissed my fretting as pointless.
"Think. What fool commander gives up Bluecoats who do the work of ten?"
"Oh."
Spot on.
I sent polite dispatches to each legion.
At that point, I had no inkling.
That my casually drafted orders would cause a front-line fiasco.
I realized too late—after it was irreversible.
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