Chapter 57
Chapter 57
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: A Barking Dog Doesn't Bite (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
As I always say, the Thracia army was incompetent.
But they were never cowards.
In fact, the individual soldiers of the Thracia army were generally fierce and belligerent by nature.
Most of their territory was flat plains, and the land was so fertile that there were no shortage of those eyeing Thracia.
Naturally, invasions were frequent, and wars were commonplace.
They said Thracia had fought over a hundred large and small wars in their history.
The Trakieri family had established their kingdom here just over 300 years ago, which meant they'd gone to war roughly once every three years.
And even when there were no wars, the country wasn't exactly peaceful.
Even without neighboring nations invading, the Thracians were the type to brawl endlessly over power struggles and such.
In crude terms, the entire nation was steeped in a culture of "if you're pissed, let's throw down."
Honestly, it was a mystery how a country like this had survived intact(?) for 300 years.
Anyway, among these Thracians, the army was where the most belligerent ones gathered. And within the army, the Northern Army was formed from the toughest of the tough.
The northern front saw more battles than others and had harsher working conditions.
It wasn't a place just any hardy soldier could endure.
And groups serving in such unique environments typically had strong senses of belonging and pride.
The Northern Army was no exception.
And the 6th Legion was undoubtedly part of the Northern Army.
The officers of the 6th Legion, their pride wounded, belatedly sought to correct their mistake of trying to abandon their allies.
Through them, I secured testimony that the 6th Legion commander had been fully aware of the consequences his unilateral decision would bring.
"Th-this is slander! Outrageous slander! I was only trying to minimize variables in the siege, secure the fortress first, and then annihilate the Astoria army on the plains!"
At first, he denied it.
"If you frame me like this, do you think you'll get away with it?!"
Then he threatened.
"Fine. I admit it. It was a misjudgment on my part. As a show of remorse, I'll go to headquarters myself, report my error, and beg for punishment."
Finally, he acquiesced.
"Capturing the fortress is a merit. The misjudgment that nearly endangered our allies in the process is a demerit. We'll see which weighs heavier before the generals at headquarters."
Of course, this acquiescence wasn't an admission of full guilt and willingness to take responsibility, as one might think.
In essence, he was arguing that since he'd captured the fortress as a victorious general, and the alleged danger to allies hadn't materialized, the merits outweighed the faults when tallied up.
"At worst, maybe a two-rank demotion. But I'd still be a general. I'll gladly accept it."
Based on how headquarters had handled things so far, it wasn't unlikely his case would be resolved that way. In the worst case, he might return to the 6th Legion after just a two-rank demotion.
Of course, I had no intention of letting headquarters botch this again.
I planned to bundle every single crime and deliver it straight to Igor.
The problem was that even going straight to Igor would take considerable time for punishment to be handed down.
For some reason, it left a bad taste in my mouth.
"Ah, I can't stomach this. This isn't my style."
Having made up my mind, I sighed and stepped forward.
"A word in your ear."
I leaned in and whispered to the 6th Legion commander.
"What?"
The smug look on his face slowly faded.
Whisper whisper.
Regardless, I kept whispering to him.
The color drained from his face entirely.
"I guarantee you won't even get a chance to call in your fancy connections."
Even in his dazed state, he shot me disbelieving glares.
"If you don't believe me, by all means, test a general's luck."
With that, I stepped back a few paces.
"May we impose on your legion's fortress for a bit to regroup?"
The 6th Legion commander didn't respond.
His face was still blank.
"Who would dare refuse His Majesty's cavalry at the gate?"
The officer who'd first ordered our disarmament answered in his stead.
And so, I ended up staying briefly in Farenhite Fortress—the place he'd nearly traded for our entire army.
"What did you whisper to him?"
Jamal sidled up and asked slyly.
"What on earth did you say to make that brazen bastard shut up and look like a criminal?"
The others didn't say anything, but they were subtly waiting for me to spill, curiosity plain on their faces.
"Nothing much."
I'd just pointed out why his grand plan was utterly impossible, step by step. And described, in even more extreme and tragic terms, what would happen the moment we reached the capital.
Oh, and I added that if my messenger arrived first, he'd have no chance to even defend himself.
"......You really laid into him."
"Lay into him? It was friendly advice."
"How is that advice? More like a curse."
Jamal shook his head.
"But why bother? It can't just be because you didn't want to see him strut around."
I didn't answer.
He'd find out soon enough anyway.
"C-Colonel! The legion commander's gone!"
Less than a day after arriving at Farenhite Fortress, Colonel Kalashnikov came rushing to me, pale as a ghost.
"The guards were definitely watching him, but he vanished without a trace......"
The colonel, rambling in bewilderment, suddenly froze upon seeing me.
"You... How are you so calm when Nureyev the Lieutenant General has fled?"
I had every reason to be calm.
"......Good lord. You egged him on to run."
As the colonel said, I was the one who'd prompted the 6th Legion commander's flight.
"What did you do? That sly fox wouldn't make such an extreme choice based on a few words."
Indeed, Colonel Kalashnikov was sharp.
"Maybe there were circumstances we don't know about that left him no choice but to flee?"
For instance, sympathizers in the 6th Legion who pitied his plight might have overpowered the guards to free him from what was essentially house arrest.
Events might have spiraled out of his control, leaving him no other option.
"Ask General Nureyev yourself when he returns."
Why he'd made such an extreme choice.
"Returns? Why would a man who's fled come back......?"
I said nothing.
"No way?"
Even so, the colonel seemed to grasp the situation.
After that, he never mentioned the 6th Legion commander's flight again.
"......You're a scary man."
That was all—just the occasional mutter, as if he'd been spooked.
"Well, time to catch some shut-eye."
Natasha wouldn't visit my room tonight, so I could finally get a solid night's sleep.
The next day.
A little after dawn.
"General Nureyev's been caught."
The fugitive 6th Legion commander had been apprehended by the search party.
More accurately, picked up.
"Oof. Where'd he leave that arm of his?"
The arm that had been fine the day before was gone.
And wouldn't you know it—the stump matched Colonel Kalashnikov's arm perfectly.
What a coincidence.
"To think such a weakling was playing general."
Je Suh had kept fighting without flinching after losing an arm, but this guy was losing it over just one limb. Pathetic.
"Does this count as him admitting to treason?"
If he'd cooperated with the investigation, maybe not.
But fleeing like this was as good as confessing.
No need to treat him like a general anymore.
In the end, the 6th Legion commander was imprisoned.
In the dungeon beneath the fortress he'd gained by endangering the entire army. His fate was truly ironic.
"Tch."
If he hadn't run, he'd have been confined to quarters and escorted to the capital for trial.
"Why'd he have to run?"
Lost an arm, thrown in jail.
"Tough luck. No one's coming to save him this time."
Tough luck indeed.
He'd rot in that dank, filthy dungeon until they carted him off to the capital.
Karma—what a fitting word.
The fortress was peaceful.
There was a brief rumor about a woman in flowing robes carrying a bloody arm like a toy, but otherwise, it was calm.
But that was just the surface.
The internal situation in the fortress wasn't great.
Specifically, the 6th Legion's command staff.
They'd briefly ignored our peril, but they'd ultimately set things right.
That was extenuating at best—not exonerating.
Once the war ended, the 6th Legion officers—excluding Colonel Kalashnikov and the detachment—would likely face disciplinary action.
They'd been complicit in the legion commander's treason, after all.
I'd do my best to help mitigate their punishments, but there were limits.
And I had no intention of saving them all.
Truth be told, I didn't believe every 6th Legion commander had stepped up to redeem their dishonor.
Rotten apples attract more rotten apples.
How could there be no similar careerists under an ambition-driven superior?
Those sensitive to power shifts had already sensed the legion commander's fall from grace and were keeping their heads down.
With Colonel Kalashnikov and Colonel Sergen—the one who'd ordered disarmament—I'd sorted those types out separately.
I planned to weed them all out through Igor later.
Anyway.
The most I could do was lighten their discipline—not erase it.
The bigger issue was the stigma they'd carry.
Whistleblowers are never welcome, regardless of right or wrong.
It wasn't about reason or justice.
Just a defensive trait in closed groups.
Slightly different, but hadn't I been shunned—not quite shunned—by other officers (like Major Sanov, or Major Sanov, or that Major Sanov) for "selling out" my superior during Gaillard's defense?
Overcoming that was on the 6th Legion officers.
But on second thought, I might be able to help.
I'd already excellently overcome the trials they'd face.
"Discipline, whistleblower—stand out with enough merit, and no one will gossip."
Fortunately, the war wasn't over yet.
"I have a plan."
Opportunities for merit abounded.
"But executing it requires the 6th Legion's full cooperation."
I sought their command staff's help.
"We've already received great favors from you and the Bluecoats. When you offer a chance to redeem our dishonor, would we refuse even if it meant jumping into fire?"
They gladly accepted.
The next day, we left Farenhite Fortress with 1,000 vanguard troops from three divisions under the 6th Legion.
Trailing behind were the wagons I'd cherished and dragged around since joining the battle.
Steady consumption and some losses in combat had reduced their numbers considerably.
"This'll do."
I still had twelve wagons left.