Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army

That night, I made my way to Serafina's room as promised.

Knock, knock.

No answer came, but the door wasn't locked.

Inside, a faint fragrance hung in the air, and there sat Serafina on the edge of the bed.

"…You're late."

"I took a longer route to avoid prying eyes."

I locked the door behind me and approached the bed.

Status Analysis.

An unstable internal injury. I just needed to loosen it up a little.

"I'll begin now, Captain."

Touch of Attunement.

Warm energy flowed out from my palms and traveled up along her body. Serafina let out a ragged breath and rested her forehead against my shoulder.

"Haa… ah, nngh…"

"It seems the mana overload has left you somewhat unstable today."

"I-is that so… hngh…"

"It's all right. Just relax. Your clothes are… getting in the way."

"Understood…"

Buttons popped loose one by one — tok, tok — until her jacket dropped to the floor with a soft thump, followed by her shirt.

And what lay revealed over her bare skin was a sight I hadn't expected.

Oh ho?

I'd assumed it would be the same rough, standard-issue undergarments as always.

Before my eyes was black silk lingerie trimmed in delicate lace.

The moment I couldn't tear my gaze away, Serafina's face flushed crimson. She averted her eyes and mumbled.

"…D-don't get the wrong idea. My issued supplies were worn out, so… while I was in the Imperial Capital, I just picked something up in a hurry. Th-that's all they had left."

Anyone could see it had been chosen with great care. But I feigned ignorance and nodded along.

"Is that so? The merchants of the capital certainly have an excellent eye. It suits you beautifully, Captain."

"……Shut up and just get on with it."

Grinning, I reached around behind her back.

Click.

The moment the hook came undone, the scrap of black fabric slid down and pooled at her waist, defeated.

"Hnn…"

Serafina curled her arms around her chest in embarrassment. But I took hold of her arms and gently spread them apart.

Pure white, laid bare. Flawlessly smooth skin, and full breasts rising proudly, their pink tips already stiffened to hard peaks.

Touch of Attunement.

My palm glided up along the curve of her slim waist and closed firmly over that full breast.

"Ngh, haa…! Lieutenant, your hands… too much…"

"Can't be helped."

"…Hngh."

I slowly pushed her down onto the bed. Her silver hair fanned out across the soft mattress like a peacock's tail.

"Spread your legs for me, Captain Serafina."

"………"

Biting her lip, she slowly parted her thighs to either side. Even to the naked eye, her panties were visibly soaked.

"I'll begin now."

I slid in between her legs.

The next morning.

I stepped out of the hotel and climbed into the waiting vehicle. With the steady hum of its engine, the sedan glided off.

After cruising the broad avenues of the Imperial Capital for a while, the car pulled up at its designated destination.

The brakes hissed to a stop.

The Stahlberg Mansion.

It was less a house than a fortress. Even the sentries guarding the main gate radiated a killing intent to rival anything on the front lines.

Escorted in by the butler, the mansion's interior proved austere and practical. Real weapons from actual battlefields were displayed throughout the halls. The atmosphere was solemn.

Erika, walking ahead of me, gradually slowed her pace.

"…My father is a strict man. Don't screw up, Jäger. I'd rather not take the fall for your mistakes."

Erika fired the words over her shoulder without turning around, but there was a faint tremor at the end of her voice.

Status Analysis.

"Relax. Cleaning up your messes is my specialty."

"Y-you little…!"

Erika spun around, but I just smirked and shrugged. While we bickered, we arrived before the massive doors of the office.

The butler who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had guided us spoke with grave formality.

"His Excellency is waiting. Only Lieutenant Jäger may enter."

"…What? Me?"

"The young lady has been instructed to wait."

Erika bit her lip and fell back. I gave my uniform one last check and pushed open the heavy oak door.

The room was dark.

Only the crackling glow of the fireplace lit the spacious chamber, and at its center stood an enormous desk — and behind it, a man.

Ludwig von Stahlberg.

The pillar of the Empire and the apex of its military. A man spoken of as nothing less than a legend of the northern front.

Status Analysis.

"Reporting for duty! Lieutenant Max Jäger, responding to Your Excellency's summons."

I executed a crisp salute. The crack of my boot heels rang through the office.

No answer came.

The man behind the desk simply turned pages of documents, a thick cigar clamped between his teeth.

I swallowed dryly.

Without that skill, my legs would have buckled beneath me.

A minute passed — though it felt far longer — in silence.

"…So it's you."

Field Marshal Ludwig slapped his papers shut and raised his head.

"Erika did something foolish."

Straight to the point, from the very first word.

"Misjudging the enemy's strength on a withdrawal-blocking mission and getting herself surrounded, of all things. There are limits to how much a Stahlberg's name can be dragged through the mud."

He ground the cigar out in the ashtray. The red embers crumbled to ash.

"And yet I hear you pulled that girl out of it. After completing your infiltration mission, no less — on your own independent read of the battlefield."

"I got lucky."

"Luck?"

Ludwig snorted.

"I read the report. Using the enemy's own powder magazine for a secondary detonation. Setting an ambush that exploited the terrain. Sniping the enemy commander besides. Every single move was coldly, meticulously calculated. …Which is to say, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that word 'luck' is the least fitting thing you could have said."

He leaned forward over the desk, and the sheer pressure of his presence made my whole body feel as if it were being crushed.

"Speak honestly, Lieutenant. Did you save my daughter — or did you put my House in your debt?"

A critical question. One wrong answer here could tangle up my entire military career. Knowing the weight of his name, half-hearted displays of loyalty or camaraderie would never move him.

I lifted my head and looked him dead in the eye.

Charming Speechcraft.

"If I'm to speak honestly — the latter."

Ludwig's eyebrow twitched.

"An Iron Cross can be bought at any market stall. But a debt owed to the Ducal House of Stahlberg — no, an asset held against it? That's something money itself cannot buy."

I let the corner of my mouth curl upward.

"I simply invested. Because Lady Erika von 'Stahlberg' was worth the price."

The moment my words ended, a suffocating silence fell. Only the firewood crackled in the hearth.

After a long moment.

"…Investment. An asset."

Ludwig's mouth twisted into something like a grin.

"Insolent. You're telling me my own daughter is some investment opportunity?"

But even as he said it, his eyes began to glint.

"Still — it's not wrong. Blind loyalty can be wiped out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with a single bullet at the front."

"You and I might get along rather well, I think."

The tension in the room eased. Ludwig rested his chin on his laced fingers and studied me with open curiosity.

"…These nobles and bourgeois of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Empire are all idiots, every last one of them. They bicker over bloodlines and money while missing what actually matters — and the very army that ought to be setting it all right is off playing at heroes."

He blew a cloud of cigar smoke into the air.

"And yet some rat of a commoner orphan, nobody knows where he crawled out from… sees straight through to the heart of it."

"You flatter me, Your Excellency."

"Spare me the modesty. You won't fool my eyes, Lieutenant. Your eyes… they don't belong to a soldier. That's the look of a hunter stalking his prey — or a businessman balancing a ledger."

I laughed inwardly.

"The front lines don't leave room for picking and choosing one's means. If you want to survive, you do whatever it takes."

"Good. I like it. I like it very much."

Ludwig tapped the desk twice with his finger.

"Which is why I summoned you. Not just because of my daughter — Erika's merely a bonus."

His eyes sharpened.

"The capital is filthier than the front. Instead of bullets, slander flies; instead of shells, backroom schemes go off all around you. To survive here, you need allies. Allies bound to you by interests that cannot be shaken."

I had a fair idea where this was heading.

"I'm not offering this as a Field Marshal of the Imperial Army. I'm offering as the head of House Stahlberg."

He drew a ring engraved with his family crest from the drawer and tapped it lightly as he fixed his gaze on me.

"Join my line. When you need to bark, I'll let you bark. When you need to bite, I'll let you bite."