Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: Tactical Victory & Strategic Defeat (4)
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After sending His Highness the Crown Prince and over two thousand knights through the Ticino Canton, our expeditionary force began a slow withdrawal over the next few days.
Naturally, the high morale we'd maintained—believing everything was unfolding smoothly just as His Highness had predicted—plummeted straight to the ground.
"We were all cheering yesterday that it was a cakewalk, damn it. What the hell is this? Are we all gonna die?"
"Sergeant, if the military police hear that, your head's coming off. You know that, right?"
"Screw the military code and all that crap. I came all the way to Switzerland with just three months left until discharge, hoping to pocket some extra cash... And now this."
They seemed to think that standing guard in such a remote spot meant no one else could hear their conversation. But in the silent encampment, where everyone except the sentries was asleep, their voices carried crystal clear even from a distance.
A quick glance around revealed other conscripted military police and seasoned noncoms in similar straits, all eavesdropping intently.
Under normal circumstances, I'd have executed them on the spot or paraded them before the ranks at morning muster for a public hanging.
But in this desperate pinch, with morale already in the dirt, executing them without spreading outright lies would only backfire.
Of course, I couldn't let them keep dragging the army's already rock-bottom spirits down to the depths of the underworld either.
"Forget everything else—just make it back alive, that's all I want. Right? Then I can use the money I've saved up so far. Marry Silvia waiting for me back in the village, buy a house, some land, and have kids that look just like her."
"........."
"Oh yeah, Private Milton. You said you've never even held a girl's hand at a village festival since you were born? Man, screw it. I've been dying to sleep with Silvia all this time but never got the chance, and now I'm heading to the grave without it."
As the sergeant rambled on about not wanting to die a virgin, I quietly approached from behind. Private Milton froze on the spot, mouth agape in shock.
The sergeant, seeing this, looked around in confusion, wondering what had spooked the kid so bad.
Then he caught sight of the two stars on my collar. Realizing what he'd been blabbing about, he dropped to his knees instead of saluting and slammed his forehead into the dirt without hesitation.
"General Jaeger, sir, spare me! I swear I won't run my mouth again. Please, just let me live—my life, just my life. I've got a fiancée back home who promised to marry me when I return. I don't want to die untouched. Mercy, sir!"
His plea gave me pause.
Not in some cold calculation like "How should I kill this guy to boost morale?" but rather "What words can I use to comfort him and turn this into a heartwarming tale that lifts the troops' spirits?"
While I pondered, the sergeant kept kowtowing, begging for his life.
The private on watch with him trembled, convinced his sergeant's neck was about to roll.
I promptly soaked my handkerchief from my canteen and handed it over.
"Get up first and clean that gash on your forehead properly. By the book, you're definitely court-martial material, Sergeant. But I'll let it slide this once."
"Thank you, sir! Thank you! This worthless fool won't breathe a word out of turn again."
"See that you don't."
Normally, a mere officer overlooking a soldier's massive screw-up would become legend in barracks tales.
But isolated deep in enemy territory with morale in freefall, sparing him might earn short-term gratitude.
Yet by tomorrow, after I turned away, whispers could spread:
"If the brass think this war's such a disaster that they let a guy rant about us losing and everyone dying without so much as a slap on the wrist?"
So, having extended mercy, I needed to win their hearts completely.
"In exchange, mind if I join you by the fire for a chat? Can't sleep anyway."
They looked stunned but couldn't dream of defying a two-star division commander.
I took the lead to steer the conversation.
"Answer my questions from here on honestly—no repercussions, I swear on my honor."
A noble's honor is no exaggeration—it's as vital as life itself, sometimes more.
Pledging it meant ironclad assurance: no punishment, whatever he said.
So he'd answer truthfully, no matter what.
"I hear you're set to marry a woman named Silvia after discharge. Dying here would be such a raw deal, right?"
"Yes, sir. If I die here, she'll marry some other guy. You have no idea how hard I've worked for this—skipping outings while the others caroused, scrimping every coin. Thinking it's all for nothing drives me mad."
"I get it. Imagine I'd been saving steadily for marriage and a happy home, holding back on fun, discharge in sight—and then croak here. Infuriating, isn't it? I feel you."
In the Reich Empire, nobles rarely share "human" stories with commoners or serfs, barring rare exceptions.
And 80-90% of those exceptions? Male nobles like me taking a commoner girl as a lover.
Most nobles deny their biological sameness with the masses, deeming their blood "nobler." Empathy for a commoner's plight? Unthinkable.
So astonishment and emotion flickered across the sergeant's face.
"You might wonder how someone like me could understand, sir. Truth is, years into my own marriage, my wife's carrying our first child. If I die here, I'll never hold him. Horrifying just to think about."
Just recalling it tore at my heart.
Laura had been eager for my child since my promotion to colonel, aggressively pursuing me.
With time, she'd quiz her nursemaid or veteran mothers on pregnancy and child-rearing—what to watch for, the feelings involved—genuinely envying them.
When the doctor confirmed it, she wept with joy, stroking her belly daily with the happiest smile imaginable.
And yet...
If, instead of me returning to her cradling our newborn in bliss, she got word I'd fallen on the battlefield...
"That's why I'll do whatever it takes to get back alive. To see and hold my child. You haven't married yet, no kids, but your fiancée Silvia awaits, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"In that sense, we're alike. One more question: What do you think my job is from here?"
He looked puzzled.
"Escort His Highness and the troops safely out of here, sir?"
"Exactly. My duty is getting His Highness and the whole expedition home, come hell or high water. Ensuring soldiers like you return to families and hometowns."
In Korea, a company or battalion commander vowing to "bring your sons home safe" is routine.
But in the Reich Empire, an officer's mission is victory with minimal losses—to amass honor and wealth.
So this sergeant had likely never heard a general say such a thing.
"My shortcomings dragged you into this peril. So to send even one more of you home, I'll lead from the front in the next fight, staking my life. That's my duty as a noble and a general."
Truth be told, beyond minimizing casualties, reason dictated I had to: without me up front, facing death head-on, the army might collapse.
Trapped in enemy lands after falling into their trap, facing a retreat where half or more might perish—officers' noble pride would hold, but rank-and-file would crack mentally.
To prevent that, a high-ranking officer like me had to set the example, life on the line.
At my vow to fight alongside them, the sergeant asked:
"You really mean it, sir? Risking your life with us, for us...?"
I quoted a legendary commander—who'd shone amid human trash in his army, beloved by the troops—with perfect timing for this moment.
"If your lover, wife, or child is in danger, a man charges through blizzard, dark, and peril to protect them. Every soldier on this front, you included, is like my own child. I'll stake my life to save even one more."
"......"
"So don't give up. Trust me and the Imperial Army's generals to the end."
With that, I stood.
"If you make it home and marry your fiancée, contact the Jaeger count's household. I'll send a generous wedding gift."
I walked back to my tent without looking back, the soldier's sobs echoing behind—deeply moved by our talk.
"Ha, now we might actually have a fight worth winning."