Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: A Barking Dog Doesn't Bite (2)
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Done with everything and now showing up like this, acting all high and mighty.
Thud, thud, thud.
The 6th Legion's formation was impeccably neat, with spearmen at the center flanked by archers and light infantry on either side.
That only made my mood worse.
"Want me to take a shot at them?"
Natasha picked up on my irritation like a ghost and asked. It was, without a doubt, the most tempting thing she'd ever said to me.
I seriously considered it.
If I was going to fire, maybe right into that spot where the legion commander's banner was flying.
Then I snapped out of it.
"Let's hear the report first."
I wanted to see what bullshit the 6th Legion commander—who'd rushed over the moment he heard the battle was over—would spout.
Thud, thud, thud. Thud thud.
Eventually, the 6th Legion halted about 50 meters from the camp.
Then they just stood there waiting.
Waiting for us to come out and greet them first.
Higher unit's here, so the lower one should roll out the welcome mat.
Of course, I had zero intention of doing that, and no one else here wanted to either.
"Hoo. Looks like I'll have to go."
At least one arm felt lighter now.
But Colonel Kalashnikov's voice was heavier than ever. Not his body—heavy heart.
He couldn't shake the burden as a comrade who'd fought side by side.
"Stay put."
I spurred the royal gift horse to block his path.
"...?"
The colonel, about to step out of the camp, flinched and looked at me.
Instead of explaining, I gave Jamal a nod.
That thing. Bring it out.
Ah, that. Got it.
Yeah. That.
Telepathy, they call it.
Our Lieutenant Jamal, who always read my mind perfectly in moments like this, turned and shouted.
"Hoist the flag!"
Moments later, a banner rose in the center of the camp.
"Whoa, the royal standard!"
Colonel Kalashnikov, who'd been blankly watching us, let out an exclamation.
Flutter.
A timely breeze unfurled the flag, revealing the falcon emblem of the Trakieri royal house.
I glanced at that majestic sight, then back at the 6th Legion. Their commander's banner, which had been flapping so proudly moments ago, now looked shriveled. Was it just my imagination?
Didn't matter.
So, who's the superior unit now?
I waited calmly.
Let's see that face.
The guy who'd thrown thousands, tens of thousands of soldiers into danger for his own promotion. Waiting for him to show himself.
Murmurs spread.
The neat ranks of the 6th Legion grew disorderly.
Soon, a group broke formation and approached.
At the front was the 6th Legion commander himself, the one I'd been dying to see.
Riding a ridiculously huge white horse, galloping frantically. It was comical.
Pfft.
The Bluecoats started snickering.
"Never thought I'd see a Shire on the front lines."
"What kinda lunatic rides that thing?"
And rightly so—the commander's white horse wasn't a warhorse or even a mount. It was a Shire breed from some island nation in the west.
Big and impressive-looking, sure, but useless for anything but plowing fields or pulling carts.
Riding it for show? The Bluecoats couldn't help but laugh.
One look tells you everything about the man.
I had a pretty good idea what kind of guy the 6th Legion commander was.
"Quiet."
The Bluecoats shut up instantly, like they'd never laughed.
Without any orders, they straightened up on their own—backs rigid, chins high. Redcoats could take lessons.
Of course, most of them had zero real respect or loyalty for the royals.
Who cares about the insides?
It's the show that counts.
"Whoa, whoa."
The 6th Legion commander pulled up in front of us, panting, and scanned us.
His face soured at seeing Colonel Kalashnikov—who should've been up front by rank—standing idly in the back. Then his eyes landed on me at the forefront, expression complicated.
"Lieutenant General Mikhail Nureyev of the 6th Legion. Honored to meet His Majesty's cavalry here."
But he quickly switched to a beaming smile and greeted us.
"Yannick Schrelgriff."
My curt greeting, devoid of any flattery, made his eyebrow twitch, but he kept smiling.
"This was a solo operation for the 6th Legion to lure and annihilate the Astorians here. Did I miss my chance?"
His political savvy lived up to the hype.
Operation phase, lure, chance.
No openings, no slip-ups. Smooth as silk.
To anyone listening, it sounded like the 6th Legion had planned and controlled the whole thing.
His late arrival? Just missing a shot at glory.
Made it feel like we'd stolen their kill.
If I hadn't stayed in the camp or kept in touch with the colonel about the prisoners, I might've bought it.
The man had a gift for brazen bullshit.
"Ah, I see."
Sarcasm dripping for all to hear.
But the legion commander's face didn't change.
Impressive patience.
Or maybe Igor's authority was twice what I thought.
Didn't matter either way.
"Two days late."
One side bows, the other stands tall. Balance.
"Infantry must have a different sense of time."
I called out his screw-up plainly.
"Battlefields are full of variables. Things don't always go to plan."
He hadn't expected me to be so blunt; even his thick skin showed a flicker of fluster.
But it passed quickly.
"Anyway, the Astorians are annihilated. I'd have loved to crush them myself, but I'll yield the credit to His Majesty's cavalry commander this time. No need to thank me—consider it my loyalty to the throne."
Figuring he couldn't play nice with me, he wrapped it up fast.
"Pleasure meeting you. Wishing you luck ahead, cavalry commander."
He bowed arbitrarily and turned toward Colonel Kalashnikov.
"Colonel Kalashnikov! Return to base immediately! Debrief later!"
Clear signal: no more talk with me.
Too bad.
I wasn't done, and I sure as hell wasn't handing over a comrade who'd survived hell with us.
"Sorry, but the colonel's return will have to wait."
"What?"
"He's a key witness."
The legion commander scowled.
"Bluecoats!"
"Sir!"
"As of now, all 6th Legion soldiers and officers in this camp are under our jurisdiction."
The Bluecoats spread out in formation instantly.
What the...?
I winked at the flustered colonel, then turned to the legion commander.
"...What the hell do you think you're doing?"
His affable mask finally cracked into anger.
Makes sense. Political smarts or patience—nobody just watches their men get taken.
"Securing key witnesses, as you see."
"What witnesses?"
His tone was turning imperious.
"The 6th Legion's solo op endangered the entire front line, even risking the collapse of Thracia's high command strategy. Jeopardizing allies and aiding the enemy—that's treason."
I didn't even give him a chance to respond.
"I'll thoroughly investigate the legality and risks of that op. Thus, they're all key witnesses."
End of statement.
"What authority do you have?"
He pushed back, a beat late.
"Even if your op had risks—and every military op does—who's grateful? High command, not you."
Fair points, wordy as they were.
But he didn't know everything.
"Didn't you hear? This offensive came straight from His Majesty's mind."
Was it right to call it the king's brain? Even I hesitated.
But I pressed on without showing it.
"Verifying if His Majesty's plan is executed properly is the cavalry commander's duty."
It was actually my idea, not Igor's.
But a cavalry commander's opinion is the king's. Not entirely a lie.
"Why do you think His Majesty sent me to the front?"
Why? To keep me out of the capital's drama, tucked away on the front lines.
"N-No way...?"
Of course, the clueless legion commander's face stiffened.
His imagination was probably running wild by now.
"Get it now?"
Whatever "it" was, I played along.
"...Even so, you have no right. Thracia has a chain of command. I'm not uncooperative with your duties, though. Let's do this."
Let the colonel and men return, summon them properly later. Obvious ploy.
Escape the mess for now.
"No can do."
His Majesty sent me here with these words.
"Your Independent Cavalry and I answer directly to the royals, not high command."
Follow royal orders, with autonomy in judgment and decisions.
"The authority for your independent calls comes from the king himself—superior to high command."
I didn't say my decisions outranked other Trakieris'. Too many ears. No need to poke the royals publicly.
Unnecessary anyway.
He was still reeling from what I'd said.
"No major gives a single colonel that power. Are you insulting His Majesty?"
He denied it.
But wise, benevolent Igor had foreseen this and given me a royal seal. I removed my glove.
"...Huh?"
Damn. It was gone.
I'd taken it off to put on my battle glove and left it on the desk.
Of all the awkward timing.
Whoosh.
Natasha appeared from nowhere, slipping the ring off her finger.
Igor's ring, the one I'd been looking for.
The mage who snuck into my room like a stray cat must've found it rolling around and worn it.
Squeeze.
She'd put it on her left ring finger, grinning mischievously before vanishing like nothing happened.
I followed her lead, pretending it was no big deal, and flashed the ring.
"The most sacred fingers of Trakieri shine with ten rings! Each embodies the king's will, power, and glory!"
Valor, wisdom, justice, mercy, loyalty, faith, temperance, glory, patience, hope.
Igor had given me the sapphire ring of mercy.
Why mercy over valor or glory for the front lines? No idea. But it proved my authority fine.
"...!"
Defeat flashed across the legion commander's face, who'd held composure till the end.
Normally: "Do you know who I am?" or "Who backs me?" But my backer was that backer, so skipped.
Made the finish feel flat. No drama.
That's why villains rant in plays.
"Anything else to say?"
I asked wistfully, but no reply.
His cards were all out.
Of course, his real ordeal was just starting.
For now, it'd end like this.
"...Colonel Kalashnikov."
Such a letdown.
"Return to base now. That's an order from your legion commander."
He didn't disappoint my expectations.
"Don't misunderstand. I get you're outside the chain of command. But that's just you. The colonel and 6th Legion men are under Thracia command—and right now, I'm their superior."
Obey him first.
"I promise: once sorted, they'll report for investigation. I'll cooperate fully if needed."
His patience was almost admirable now. Never raising his voice.
If only he'd reined in his ambition with that.
"Bluecoats."
"Sir!"
"My orders stand."
Clang.
Bluecoats drew their cavalry sabers in unison.
"Major. Let's not do this. We can settle nicely."
I didn't answer.
"Haa."
He sighed deeply and raised his hand.
One slip, and we'd have friendly fire across the border.
But it didn't happen.
"6th Legion!"
An unnamed senior officer behind him shouted suddenly.
"Sheathe arms!"
Clinks as light infantry sheathed swords.
Spearmen reversed their poles.
"About face!"
At the next order, the 6th Legion turned their backs en masse.
Literally.
"I'll join the investigation too."
The officer who gave the order looked relieved.
That sparked it.
"Me too."
"Need more witnesses?"
Half the officers behind the commander stepped up as witnesses.
"Eeek!"
The ambitious bastard who'd traded reputation for promotion rolled his eyes back in rage.