Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Who Said I'm Useless on the Ground? (2)
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Driving the bandits out of the village didn't require much effort.
Just slowly advancing on horseback, spears dripping with blood held low, was enough to make the terrified bandits retreat step by step.
A few of the bolder ones charged at us, but poorly armed wanderer-bandits couldn't hope to overcome me in my heavy plate armor.
They were either impaled on my spear or trampled under the royal gift horse.
As they died one after another with every charge, the bandits eventually lost the will to even approach my side.
"Advance."
I and the Bluecoats herded the bandits pushed out of the village toward where the Doppelzoltner waited.
And finally, we succeeded in corralling them into one spot and completely encircling them.
Thud, thud.
Even then, we kept pressing forward.
The Doppelzoltner matched our pace, advancing toward the wanderers.
"Hii, hiiik!"
The bandits recoiled hesitantly at the advance of the Bluecoats, their bloodied spears to the fore. A few tried fleeing toward the Doppelzoltner only to be bisected by massive two-handed swords.
Splatter.
In the face of such a brutal scene, the bandits completely lost their will to resist.
Thud, thud.
We pushed them relentlessly until they had nowhere left to retreat, crammed together so tightly they couldn't even twitch.
Only then did we halt.
"Everyone, hold position. Execute any who so much as moves."
At my words, the bandits froze solid.
It was an absurd situation—fewer than a hundred troops surrounding several hundred bandits—but no one thought it strange.
"Search the village interior for survivors."
I selected five clowns and five infantry I'd held back as guards, sending them into the village.
The bandits glanced around nervously, and a few suddenly bolted from the group.
"P-Please spare...!"
"We were just hungry...!"
But they didn't finish their pleas before the Bluecoats cut them down.
"Fellow Thracians treating each other like this... Argh!"
"You bastards! Better die saying my piece than... Ack!"
A few more followed, unable to contain their tempers or the pressure, but they met the same fate as those who'd ignored my warning before them.
After that, no one dared step forward.
"Nothing here. People, chickens, pigs—all dead."
One of Vadim's infantrymen who'd finished searching returned in the meantime.
"...Not a single one?"
The infantryman shook his head gravely in response.
He squeezed his eyes shut inside his helmet.
It was an expected outcome, really.
The village was too small to withstand hundreds of rampaging bandits.
Still, I'd hoped someone survived.
"Search more thoroughly again."
The infantryman hesitated, lips twitching, then bowed his head deeply and vanished back into the village.
Grip.
My hand tightened unconsciously on my spear.
"W-We never meant for it to go this far!"
I turned my head.
"If they'd just handed over what they had willingly, it wouldn't have escalated! We were just hungry!"
I raised my visor, glaring at the repulsive bandit making excuses.
"Don't open your mouth."
And spat:
"Don't even breathe loudly."
One word at a time, like chewing gravel.
"Stay like you're dead."
I'm barely holding back as it is.
"Hii, hiik!"
The bandit who'd glimpsed my face went pale and shut his mouth.
"......"
Plip, plip.
Something cold touched my exposed face.
I looked up at the sky.
The first snow of the season was falling late.
A fierce wind whipped through.
As night deepened, the temperature plummeted.
The snowflakes grew thicker.
My armor turned ice-cold, the chill seeping through my underlayers.
Everyone was in the same boat.
But no one complained.
-D-Don't push!
-Fuck. Why don't you try standing on the outside getting battered by the wind!
Only the bandits squabbled, shoving to get to the inside.
And at last, reinforcements from the fortress arrived.
"...Bind them all."
Evgen Sanov Major's face was utterly frigid as he issued the order—likely having heard of the massacre on the way.
"Good work, Lieutenant. Leave the rest to us."
In lieu of a reply, I thumped my breastplate with my right fist and turned away.
The Bluecoats gathered at my side.
Even with the situation resolved, not one had raised their visors.
"...You all held up well."
The Bluecoats thumped their breastplates in response.
Just as I'd done to the major.
"Let's head back."
"As expected of Thracia's elite. That fearless advance against bandits outnumbering you several times over. Herding hundreds with mere dozens—it was like watching shepherds with sheep. Even this Sisric couldn't help but be impressed."
The royal representative, Sisric Trachev, kept chattering nonstop despite lips turned blue from the cold.
"That perfect discipline and strict order—worlds apart from your usual lax demeanor. A sight worthy of the Bluecoats, pinnacle of the field army."
He kept collaring up against the chill while endlessly praising us.
"In any case, this should put concerns about discipline or excessive aggression to rest. Don't you all think so?"
But the other evaluation team members offered no response to his words.
"......"
"......"
Each lost in their own thoughts.
"Anyway, let's head back and warm up. I heard the front was cold, but this is ridiculous. The troops here must have it rough."
With no replies, even he fell silent.
The mood didn't lighten much upon reaching the fortress either.
We kept to ourselves, and so did they.
"Dismissed."
I disbanded my men on the spot.
"Don't just crash 'cause you're tired—check your gear first!"
"If I hear later about rotten underlayers or mold, I'll have you sprint long-distance fully armored and saddless!"
"Why's no one answering? Cat got your tongues?"
With Jamal nagging the Bluecoats behind me, I went to find the major.
"Ah, I was waiting for you, Lieutenant."
"You worked hard today."
The major was with the legion commander, discussing the disposition of the captured bandits.
"We've decided to accept Sir Sisric's proposal and send all of today's catches to the capital."
Some troops wintering at Schrelgrad would escort them as training.
"With Sir Sisric vouching as witness, they'll likely skip trial for mine labor. A few for show-execution, though."
"Mark my words: rotting in the mines for life beats a quick death."
I spoke up cautiously after listening quietly.
"I have a report, sir."
"Ah, after all today's toil, a report too? Skip it for now—submit in writing later. It's out of our hands since Sir Sisric's taking charge."
"It's about Sir Sisric."
Both men's eyes widened.
"Something's off about this whole incident."
I laid out my suspicions.
"So, you're saying Sir Sisric might be connected to the bandits' rampage?"
The legion commander and major's faces hardened upon hearing me out.
"As you know, the Bluecoats and I have swept the area north of Schrelgrad multiple times. A band this size couldn't have slipped past me."
"Could they have come from elsewhere? As you know, war's churned up refugees and wanderers everywhere."
The major's expression was more serious than ever.
"Milder weather and plentiful food in the central regions, versus barren north with shit weather."
Where would you go if you were them?
"...Even so, linking it to Sir Sisric lacks evidence."
The legion commander voiced careful dissent.
To that, I aired the unease I'd felt—the circumstantial suspicions.
"It is odd how he suggested tagging along right on cue. Royals usually avoid dirty work like this, especially in this cold."
"And he was first to propose escorting the prisoners too."
"Hm..."
The frowning legion commander drummed the table.
Meanwhile, the major stood, checked outside the door, and returned.
"Who else have you told?"
"You two are the first, sirs."
"Good."
The legion commander nodded once, then spoke gravely—his tone heavier than I'd ever heard, making me question if this was the man I knew.
"Keep this quiet from now on."
In other words, don't dig deeper needlessly.
Don't forget who's behind Sisric Trachev.
"...I'll follow your orders, sir."
I knew pushing further wouldn't help me anyway, so I agreed.
"Now, a gift for our hardworking officer."
The legion commander, back to normal, vanished somewhere.
He returned with cloth-wrapped bottles in hand.
"...Strange. Several bottles are empty."
"......"
"Anyway, have one each. Nights like this call for warm brandy before stretching out. Mine's safe to accept."
He unwrapped and poured.
Deeply aged, its rich hue intoxicating even unsipped.
"To the 8th Legion and Independent Cavalry passing evaluation unscathed."
The commander toasted; the major and I emptied our glasses quietly.
"Well then..."
As I rose,
"Oh, right."
Evgen Sanov Major spoke as if just remembering.
"There was one survivor."
He eyed me frozen in place.
"A little girl hiding in a shed. Entrance cleverly concealed—maybe prepared for something like this. Minor burns on shoulders and hands, but no serious injuries."
"...Glad to hear it."
"Figured you'd want to know, Lieutenant. Now go rest."
I gave a brief salute and left the commander's office.
My frozen heart thawed a bit from the cold.
Whether brandy warmth or something else, even I couldn't say.
"Talk of discipline vanished after that day."
Days later, Sisric Trachev visited, speaking insinuatingly.
"They saw you in action and realized their worries were unfounded. No way they'd discipline frontline lifelines over sloppy uniforms—unreasonable."
The Bluecoats' attire was pretty ragged by my standards too, but poor supplies and brutal cold explained it.
Without Yuri throwing tantrums over her grudge against me, it never would've been an issue.
"Don't sweat the evaluation. You'll get generous scores."
Strictly confidential, but special exception.
"Yuri might score you poorly over personal beef, but Ulek Major at least will be fair."
Sounded like talks between them already.
"Some village women hit by this had futures promised with your Bluecoats, right? Bandits defiled and killed their fiancées, yet your men kept cool heads, prioritizing orders. Even that stickler came around."
Over half on my side—no worries.
"Music to my ears. But."
I straightened and asked.
"How'd you know about the village women and my Bluecoats' promises?"
"...Heard from the commander, maybe? Or during interviews. In this line, you hear so much it's hard to track sources. Doesn't matter who or how, really."
He watched my face, then backpedaled swiftly.
"Right? You get me?"
"...Understood."
"Good then."
"I see."
He smiled affably the whole time.
"Just in case: don't hate Ulek Major too much."
"No hate. It's his job, isn't it?"
"Right, you get it. That post demands nitpicking and unwelcome truths. Comes with being disliked."
Compared to supply-hoarding HQ old-timers preserving seats, he was just dutiful.
No reason for grudges.
"Evaluation passed, so no more bothering you for a while."
Failing might've been trouble, but passing stamped official approval.
Finally recognized proper independent unit—major budget perks ahead.
"Congrats on evaluation and promotion. Commission comes spring, but celebrating early."
Last year’s double jump meant no room despite merits.
Sisric Trachev and I parted after small talk.
Neither said anything special.
Thus, the matter concluded.
The evaluation team departed.
Ulek Major bid dry farewell matching his stern first impression; Sisric got perfunctory courtesy.
And.
"...Yannick."
Only Yuri remained.
"Committee Member Yenobiche. Safe travels."
Not glad to see you; let's never meet again.
My expression conveyed more than words; he scowled.
"You..."
Lips twitching as if to curse, but he said nothing and left.
Bound prisoners trailed long behind.
Only when the last vanished from sight.
"It's over!"
"Yeehaw!"
The 8th Legion cheered.
Glug.
I tilted the bottle.
Clear liquid splashed onto the ruins.
"..."
Passed it to the next man.
The Bluecoat silently poured onto the ground without a word.
We repeated endlessly.
Soon, the air reeked of alcohol everywhere.
"Let's go."
After gazing at the snow-blanketed village a while, the Bluecoats and I departed.
"Sisric, Sisric."
Marek Drpov frowned.
He'd discreetly pulled strings to dig on Sisric Trachev, but nothing surfaced.
For a royal rep on the evaluation team, past records were virtually nonexistent.
As if dropped from the sky.
"Guess I'll bury this."
He burned the documents on the spot.
"Trouble keeps cropping up."
Having a sharp subordinate meant constant headaches, which irked him.
Yet his lips curved slyly.
"Well, being a windbreak for young hotshots adds some late-career fulfillment."
But that was fleeting.
"Odd. Why's my liquor vanishing?"
His prized rare bottle gone earlier; now more missing.
The hard-to-get, pricey ones, no less.
"Any progress on the pursuit?"
"Those who dared harm Thracia's king's guards on his soil were meticulous—no traces despite that force. It'll take time."
"They'll get it. I'll give ample time; root them out utterly."
"Of course."
"More importantly, time to bolster him properly."
"Too soon?"
"Brothers' interest grows. They'll contact him soon one way or another. Best preempt with credit now, keep him loyal."
"...As Your Highness wills."
"Duel!"
Some wild boar suddenly challenged me to a duel.
Upon closer look, not a boar—Otto von Bauer.
"Me! Waited! You! Forgot me completely!"
He bellowed in clumsy Thraciaan he'd picked up somewhere.
"So. Duel!"
Seemed miffed at winter neglect.
He'd defected solely to avenge against Oscar whatever-his-name—was understandable.
"I win! I captain!"
Though how he reached that conclusion mystified me.
Whatever—decline and done.
If I were a knight, maybe.
No reason for a soldier to indulge childish games.
None. Definitely none.
"Ah?"
Wait—I am a knight.