Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Eve of the Storm (2)
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Given its location, it wasn't all that unusual for couriers to pass through Schrelgrad.
But that was only true from spring through autumn.
In times like now, with snow piled up everywhere, even couriers would wait for spring unless it was something truly urgent.
Which made this all the more suspicious.
The snow would melt soon enough and spring would arrive. They wouldn't dispatch a courier just to exchange idle pleasantries.
This had to be an urgent matter, racing against the clock.
"Hold on. Why am I even worrying about this?"
I snapped out of it after mulling over various possibilities on my own.
If it was something I needed to know, the legion commander would summon me soon enough. There was no reason to rack my brain right now.
And sure enough, the summons came.
"Hahaha."
The legion commander let out dry laugh after dry laugh.
He held a letter in each hand, staring back and forth between them and me with utter disbelief.
They looked like the ones the courier had brought.
"Heavens."
After endless dry laughs, he finally spoke.
"Well, first things first—congratulations."
I knew exactly what he meant the moment I heard it.
"Congratulations on your promotion."
Just as I'd expected.
Despite racking up more than enough merits—overflowing, even—from the last war, I'd been passed over for promotion.
Having already received a special two-rank jump from the Gaillard business, another promotion would be too fast, or so the reasoning went.
So I'd been given a largely honorary knight's commission first, with a verbal promise that the actual promotion would come around springtime.
Looked like the promotion Princess Yeniche had promised was finally here.
"Thank you, sir."
My rank had gone up again, but I felt no real excitement.
Lieutenant or captain—until you hit field officer ranks, it was all small potatoes anyway.
"Here."
When I stayed nonchalant, the legion commander abruptly thrust his hands forward.
But there were two hands. And naturally, two letters.
"...?"
What the hell? I glanced at him, and he urged me on with both hands.
I didn't know which was the commission, so I just took what was offered.
"Uh."
I quickly checked the letters and ended up dumbfounded.
"Why are there two of the exact same thing?"
Incredibly, both were appointment letters.
"Take another good look."
I checked them again.
And froze in shock.
"In all my years, I've never seen anyone promoted like this. Heavens."
The legion commander coughed in disbelief.
This time, I felt the exact same way.
Incredibly, both were legitimate appointment letters.
The only difference?
"A lieutenant commission and a captain commission arriving on the same day. Unprecedented in Thracia Army history."
One was for lieutenant. The other for captain. That was it.
What kind of situation was this?
They'd skipped me over for being too fast just a short while ago.
"This is basically a special promotion."
Another special jump in just a few months.
"You've made Thracia Army history, Captain."
Shortest time, most ranks climbed.
"Anyway, congratulations. Captain Yannick."
This rate, colonel by year's end, brigadier next year, general the year after.
The legion commander joked.
Obviously a joke.
I might have rocketed to captain somehow, but beyond that? Who knew.
Even academy grads with stellar records crashed against the field officer wall all the time.
Thracia Army didn't treat field officers like "real" officers for nothing.
And a non-academy type like me becoming a general?
Not a chance. Even major would be a stretch.
Unless I piled up merits so massive the academy officers hogging HQ and key posts couldn't utter a peep.
"Why the long face? You got promoted—shouldn't you be happy?"
I flinched and touched my face at the commander's words.
I had no idea what expression I was making, but it sure wasn't joy.
Couldn't help it.
The first special promotion hadn't fazed me, but going through it again left my feelings all tangled.
Doing alive what others only got posthumously... it wasn't pure joy.
How to put it?
Right. It felt like inheriting the legacy of the dead.
"..."
In the end, I left the commander's office without a word in response.
And a few days later, I learned the full story from Lieutenant Colonel Evgen Sanov.
"One was by order of Princess Yeniche. The other by His Highness the Second Prince."
The princess made sense—we had a deal. But the Second Prince? I'd never even spoken to him. Why was he popping up out of nowhere?
"Princess Yeniche first brought up your promotion in passing. Then, not long after, the Second Prince stopped by and made the same request."
Still didn't make sense to me.
Both had basically said the same thing.
So why had that resulted in two commissions flying into Schrelgrad?
"It's all a farce from the generals at HQ kowtowing to the royals."
Once he said that, I got the picture.
Princess Yeniche had overseen the last merit awards, using it to plant her people in HQ and cut out all the old generals' cronies.
It was a declaration of using her royal prerogatives—and a declaration of war on her brothers.
The crafty old generals at HQ weren't blind to what that meant.
In short, the old guard—caught in the crossfire of royal sibling rivalry—had desperately bent over backwards to show respect by processing each request separately.
The couriers arriving the same day wasn't coincidence either.
"Hahaha."
All I could do was laugh.
I'd always thought so, but it hit me anew.
The Thracia Army really was a clusterfuck.
Not like this was the first time seeing HQ's old generals play politics, but every day brought fresh nonsense.
Truly hopeless. No fixing it.
"In the end, it worked out in your favor. Let's call this one a win."
Lieutenant Colonel Evgen Sanov's face didn't look thrilled either.
The war had ended just four months ago. Come spring, who knew when the next one would blow up.
With those idiots hogging every key HQ post, who wouldn't feel the future closing in?
"Belated congratulations on the promotion. Once I'm off duty, let me buy you a drink to celebrate."
Thanks to you, I made a nice payout.
Lieutenant Colonel Evgen Sanov was a real man who could give genuine congratulations.
Unlike certain types whose words and actions never matched.
"Maybe later you could join my Yannick Unit..."
"Oh, right—that reminds me, I had something to tell you. Slipped my mind."
If that honest man had one flaw, it was no vision for the future.
Pity, but I wasn't giving up.
Someday, I'd get him in my unit.
"Oh, wait."
As I turned to go, swallowing my regret, the lieutenant colonel called me back.
"You should settle on a unit name soon. It's a hassle every time I write reports."
"I already have a unit name..."
"Mark my words—I won't put some ridiculous name I came up with in my reports."
Think it over.
"Seriously."
Feeling awkward, I gave a casual salute and left his office.
Normally, promotions came with a post change to match the new rank, but I'd already been leading an independent cavalry unit.
So my routine didn't change much even after making captain.
"Captain."
"Captain Yannick."
Other than the ducklings who'd trailed me calling "Lieutenant! Lieutenant!" now yelling "Captain! Captain!", it was the same as before.
Oh, unrelated to the promotion, but one thing had changed lately.
The Doppelzoltner had started acting buddy-buddy with me.
Like right now.
"Spar. Together?"
Numan, the Doppelzoltner leader, had shown up at the barracks first thing in the morning to challenge me.
Of course, I turned him down.
"Once the weather warms up."
Too damn cold for sparring or anything outdoors right now.
Flu was going around the fortress as it was.
Break a sweat in this weather? Recipe for getting sick.
"As you wish."
Numan hadn't been that enthusiastic anyway and quickly gave up, squatting by the fireplace instead.
"Our barracks. Cold. Fuel. They don't give enough. Only at dinner."
I asked why he was doing this in my barracks, and it was because it was cold.
Truth was, the fortress wasn't short on fuel.
People were the issue.
Even if we were allies now, we'd been killing each other not long ago.
The 8th Legion troops would need more time to fully accept them as comrades.
"...Thracia. When does winter end?"
Numan, squatting by the fire with a melted look on his face, asked casually.
"Soon."
Really soon.
The winds weren't as biting anymore, and the snow was starting to thaw.
Of course, it was still hell for foreign mercenaries not used to the cold.
Rumors of the army reorganization planned for spring were trickling in too.
"Nothing's set in stone yet, but the legion structure might change a bit."
"Heard they're merging the legions that took hits this time with a few others."
Even after reinforcements last autumn, most frontline legions were still understrength.
Merger and major reorganization had been predictable.
"Also talk of massively expanding legion sizes. Not sure about back to 4,000, but 3,000 seems definite."
As nobles fell and their private troops got replaced by central army regulars, the old 4,000-man legions had shrunk to 2,000 through cuts.
They called it prioritizing quality over quantity, elite focus. Yeah, right.
To me, it was always about money.
If Astoria weren't blatantly baring its ambitions like now, the royals wouldn't dream of hiking expenses.
"And this is just rumor, but..."
Lieutenant Colonel Evgen Sanov's voice dropped conspiratorially.
Where did this guy pick up all his intel?
The commission thing too—he seemed to scoop up more gossip than I could've imagined.
Of course, some was bunk, like the false intel that Astoria's 4th Legion was a pushover last war.
Couldn't trust it fully.
"We got wrecked by Astoria's mage corps last war, right? Royals got spooked and plan to massively bolster magic forces now."
As someone who'd led the heavy cavalry—the mages' top priority—my ears perked up.
"Not like last time's ragtag bunch. Real mages coming north this time."
"You don't mean..."
"Yep. Means our 8th Legion gets a mage corps too."
The 8th was slated to replace the 15th Legion at Kilirgrad once the weather cleared.
Kilirgrad faced Astoria head-on, and while a bit distant, shared a tripartite border with Kazan too.
Prime spot for priority mage deployment. Obvious.
Good news anyway.
With mage support, we could charge Astoria without worry.
Best would be no war at all, of course.
But the mood made that a pipe dream.
Finally, the spring we'd waited and waited for arrived.
The mages Lieutenant Colonel Evgen Sanov mentioned came with it.
Things felt great up to that point.
"Ooh! Yannick! My little Yannick!"
One mage came barreling over and glomped me hard.
"I hoped I'd run into you here, but it's real! Oh! Thank the gods! It's really you, Yannick!"
Then, with strength unbelievable for a mage, she crushed me in a hug and rubbed my cheeks like crazy.
"We're gonna charge like maniacs again, right? That blood! Those screams! The chunks of flesh! Aaah! Just thinking about it makes me swoon!"
I squeezed my eyes shut and endured.
Of all the mages, it had to be this lunatic.
"Natasha..."
"Yeah. Yeah. It's me, Yannick."
"Let go."
"You'll do it again, right? Let me kill like before?"
This bitch was a hopeless psycho.