Chapter 45
Chapter 45
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Everyone Wears a Mask (3)
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The headquarters' veteran generals sought Igor's permission before promptly summoning the staff officers.
With the staff officers piling in, the conference room was packed to the brim, no seats left.
There wasn't much for me to chime in on anyway.
I simply hung back and observed what they were doing.
I didn't need to stick around till the end just because I was the original proposer.
I had nothing more to add from the start, nor was I in a position to.
The pretext Igor had used to bring me into the meeting was to hear from a frontline officer, and I'd already done my part.
Besides, while I was decent at laying out the big picture, I had zero talent for hammering out the fine details.
I preferred adapting on the fly to the situation at hand over rigidly following a set plan.
Now the plan was completely out of my hands.
The headquarters' veteran generals might be self-preserving opportunists rotten with greed, but they weren't complete idiots.
On the contrary, if victory was assured, they were the types to bet bigger than anyone.
They'd handle it just fine on their own.
More importantly right now...
How long do I have to stay stuck here?
I'd missed my chance to slip out.
The meeting didn't look like it would wrap up anytime soon.
Some of them seemed ready to pull an all-nighter right there.
Hoo...
As I retreated to the back, rolling my eyes around idly, I spotted Captain Garp, who'd been similarly shoved aside by the staff and generals.
Out of everyone's sight, his color had returned to normal, but the moment our eyes met, his face rapidly drained again.
"...?"
It was a wonder how a guy like that even became a soldier, let alone rose to captain.
This was the Thracia army for you.
A total misfit like him could climb to captain given enough time—that's the Thracia army in a nutshell.
"Captain Garp."
But I really liked capable fuckups.
"Can you ride a horse at least?"
Instead of an answer, I got a weird hic, ack, ugh.
He even started trembling violently; if I pressed for a reply, he'd probably faint on the spot.
No choice but to try again later. I stepped away.
All I managed was retreating to a spot a short distance off.
I wanna get out. I wanna get out. I wanna get out.
I grumbled inwardly, leaning against the wall, for quite a while.
"Gasp."
I'd dozed off standing up.
Slurp.
I wiped the drool from my mouth and casually glanced around, pretending nothing happened.
Good. No one saw.
...My ass.
"......"
Igor, who'd stepped back from the table, was staring right at me.
"Your Majesty, it seems my role is done. May I take my leave now?"
Since I'd been caught napping anyway, I decided to double down on the shamelessness.
We'd all buried far worse sins during this meeting—what's a little nap?
"...We might need to call on you again, so stand by."
To me, that sounded like he'd definitely summon me soon.
For Thracia.
I gave a small salute and headed out of the conference room. Captain Garp watched me with what looked like admiration.
I shrugged at him and exited.
"Yawn."
I stretched my stiff body every which way as I followed the attendant out of the palace.
Only after leaving did the princess cross my mind belatedly.
It'd been four days since arriving in the capital, yet she stayed dead silent for some reason.
"She's busy, I guess."
With even just Igor being a headache, there was no reason for me to go seeking out a princess who hadn't reached out first.
I sauntered back to the inn.
"...?"
The inn was deserted.
We were using two inns run by the royals in their entirety, but the other one was empty too.
"They all went out to play, huh."
As their bodies recovered, the itch to move must've gotten to them, and they'd gone off somewhere.
I returned to my original inn.
Natasha, whom I hadn't seen earlier, was grunting at the entrance, buried under luggage.
"Yannick?"
I immediately snatched the bags from her.
"Whew. So heavy. What's all this?"
"Reagents for magic, and this and that."
She kept rubbing her sore wrists; it must've been seriously heavy.
"For stuff like that, just drag one of the idle Bluecoats along."
What else were the loafing Bluecoats for? This was their use.
Natasha just smiled brightly at my words without answering.
"Seen where the others went?"
"No clue."
I'd asked just in case, but the answer was as expected.
Natasha wouldn't care where the others were anyway.
I wondered if she even knew the Bluecoats' names.
"Take it easy."
"Yeah. Don't wait up for me tonight, Yannick. Go to sleep first."
"...?"
I carried Natasha's stuff to her room and headed to mine.
The sun was starting to set.
The Bluecoats still hadn't returned.
Major Lenin was absent too, so he'd probably gone with them.
Unlike the Bluecoats, Major Lenin was at least a proper, sensible person.
"Eh, they'll crawl back when it's time."
Let's leave the thirty-nine idiots to the major.
"Time to rest up proper, then."
It was too early for bed, but lately I hadn't been sleeping deeply because of Natasha.
No idea what trick she was using—even with the door locked, I'd wake to find her there every time.
With her busy sorting reagents and materials right now, this was the perfect chance to catch up on sleep.
"Bed this big..."
And I hadn't enjoyed it properly.
Roll roll.
I tumbled excitedly across the bed before stretching out arms and legs wide.
"Gonna sleep."
I closed my eyes.
A true frontline soldier could fall asleep anytime, anywhere, the instant they wanted.
I was the finest, most exemplary frontline soldier there was, so the moment my eyes shut, I was out.
And not long after, I woke again.
...Major.
A faint voice calling me came from beyond the door.
"Major!"
As I blinked awake, someone flung open my door.
Ivan Alekof.
A Bluecoat assigned under me during last fall's recruit drive.
"...?"
His eyelids swollen comically purple.
"Major, big trouble!"
Sleep vanished in a flash.
"Lead the way! Explain on the move!"
I bolted up and threw on my coat.
"Yannick?"
"Nothing to worry about. Finish what you were doing."
I pushed Natasha's head back inside the doorway and left the inn.
"Major Lenin said to celebrate his promotion with a feast at a nice spot..."
He'd thought he'd retire as a captain, but unexpectedly became a field-grade officer, so his shoulders were all puffed up as he led them to a high-class club.
"One of the Redcoats knew some folks there and joined, but then guys from their group started shit out of nowhere..."
Of course the Bluecoats didn't back down and smashed the Redcoats who'd picked the fight.
Up to there, fine.
Blood-boiling soldiers throwing punches? Happens.
Bluecoats and Redcoats scuffling wasn't a one-time thing.
"But then Redcoats started pouring in from everywhere... Things escalated."
"How many?"
"At least a hundred, looked like."
"What?"
A brawl between a hundred Redcoats and thirty-nine Bluecoats was no longer trivial.
"What was Major Lenin doing, not stopping it?"
"Uh... He was the first to throw a punch."
"......"
Trust a hatchet, and it chops your foot—that was exactly this.
"What the hell did those bastards say to start it...?"
"...They treated us like a unit about to be disbanded."
Ivan's voice trembled, still pissed even thinking back.
I didn't blame him.
I was furious too, if not more.
"......"
The Bluecoats' official name was Thracia Mobile Legion's Mid-to-Heavy Cavalry Regiment.
Originally short of the regiment's thousand-man strength, war losses had shrunk them to barely battalion size—for cavalry battalions, unlike infantry, 300 was standard.
In short, the Redcoats had insulted the fallen.
"Major?"
"Where is it?"
"Rosenritter Club."
I'd heard the name before.
"I'm going first."
"M-Major?"
I bolted past Ivan.
And arrived at the destination.
'Rosenritter'
A fancy script sign.
That was Imperial for 'Rose Knight,' right?
Perfectly good Thracian ignored for Imperial on the sign—already disliked it.
Whoosh whoosh.
I scanned around.
Spotted a flag by the club entrance.
Snap crack.
Yanked it out, snapped the pole, gripped it.
Then charged straight into the club.
"......?"
Undramatic—the inside was dead quiet.
A large hall first, with smashed tables and debris scattered.
"Who's that punk?"
"Weren't all the Bluecoat bastards rounded up by Capital Guard earlier?"
In the center, battered Redcoats were drinking.
"Hey, mister. Job's done, so fuck off."
"What a mess because of you worthless shits."
The Redcoats waved me away annoyedly.
"Aha."
Easy to grasp.
They fought together, but only my guys got hauled off.
Redcoats who fought stuck around boozing.
Click.
I turned, softly barred the door.
"What the fuck's that guy doing?"
"Dunno. Hey, you chase him out. Blue makes booze taste like shit now."
One Redcoat swaggered over.
"Hey, we're not in the mood to tussle with your side. We'll let it slide this time, so when I say nicely..."
The yapping Redcoat clutched his chest and crumpled.
"Son of a bitch!"
The wide-eyed Redcoats jumped up.
"You rear-echelon candy-ass toys thought you'd just lounge fat?"
Dismounted Bluecoats were embarrassments anywhere.
"You dare beat my boys?"
But they were my boys.
"Hey! Crush 'em!"
As they grabbed whatever and rose, I...
Crunch.
Gripped the broken flagpole like a spear and charged.
"Major!"
"You came to get us out!"
Jamal and the Bluecoats, total wrecks, lit up seeing me.
Faces like ducklings spotting mama duck.
"Nah, I got nabbed too."
I couldn't meet their eyes straight, looked away.
"This way."
As a field-grade officer, I wasn't thrown in a cell like the others.
Just confined to a room in one corner—probably for interrogations.
"Major, couldn't you have held back a bit?"
"That's rich coming from you."
Major Lenin, likewise confined, snorted.
Clothes in rags, wounds everywhere.
A complete mess.
"Fucking bastards. Rear toy soldiers yapping without knowing their place."
Even in that state, still fuming nonstop—where was this fire behind his mild demeanor?
"I saw exactly how the Bluecoats fought in the last war. Their backs charging into that horrific barrage without a hint of hesitation still burn in my eyes. Armor fused from magic shells they couldn't even shed, fists clenched they couldn't unclench, yet jamming spears under arms and hurtling into enemy lines—I never forgot that sight."
He'd always wanted to follow in their footsteps, back then.
"Without Bluecoats, we'd have had no time to regroup and would've been annihilated. Thracia must never forget them."
"......."
Come to think, light cavalry always had our backs.
Armor weight differed, but they were like us.
"Should've beat 'em half to death."
I grabbed his raging shoulder.
And said.
Don't worry.
"I finished off the rest."
They'd half-killed some; I'd mopped up the remains.
"That's some comfort at least."
Only then did Major Lenin's breathing steady.
"Ugh. Still, big trouble. We wrecked the Guard like that."
Now fretting the aftermath belatedly.
"Demotion's the best we can hope for."
Even with his dreamed field-grade rank flying away, no regrets apparent.
Who knew such blaze hid behind his propriety.
"Speaking of, why'd they grab you?"
Major Lenin eyed me puzzled.
"Aren't you the 3rd Class Military Merit Medal recipient?"
"Got a knighthood too."
"...These goddamn Capital Guard fucks! There's a limit to rolling with Redcoats! Treating a war hero like this?"
Lenin, just calmed, started raging again.
"Easy. They didn't ignore the medal; I didn't show it."
"Why...?"
He looked baffled hearing me.
"They'll find out now that I revealed my status, right?"
"No, why not show it upfront...?"
Before he finished, the door burst open.
"Y-You two can go now."
The pale Capital Guard soldier spoke with utmost deference, like he'd kowtow any second.
"Told you not to worry."
I winked.
Simple plan.
Not ideal, but I was a war hero with the 3rd Class medal.
Short of high treason, immunity.
Caused such a ruckus, word must've reached HQ and palace.
Wonder if General Langrid came.
Princess wouldn't herself, but someone'd send her man.
Using hero title and medal this way felt off, but it was mine—my honor, my call. Who'd complain?
"Let's go."
To meet whoever came for us Bluecoats, I left the room.
And froze solid.
Someone who absolutely shouldn't be in a dump like this stood before me.