Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Restore the Territory (4)
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The most important thing when training soldiers isn't honing their skills in handling weapons, nor is it instilling unity so that hundreds can move as one body.
If I said that, someone might retort, "What are you talking about? How can you downplay how crucial it is for soldiers to wield weapons well and move in perfect sync, you madman?!"
To become an army with overwhelming combat power, the first step is to bind the hearts of all the soldiers under one banner.
The method I chose for this is to push their bodies to the absolute brink in grueling conditions, creating a situation where they have no choice but to rely on their comrades training alongside them, thinking, "The only one I can trust is the guy right next to me going through this hell together."
Considering the limitations of the era, the best we can do in training is to foster unity among officers separately and among enlisted men separately.
But just like it happened for me, rolling around in real combat will sort that out eventually too.
With that in mind, I prepared to sound the reveille on the bugle I'd borrowed from the military band.
I'd love to hand it off to Sergeant Schmidt, who's been with me since the Jaeger Platoon days, especially since I'm swamped...
But in the Reich Empire, where a rigid class system is entrenched, it's fundamental that only nobles train and instruct other nobles.
So, there's no choice but for me to handle the officers' training myself.
In times like these, the best thing is to just let go of everything and find joy in working hard.
"Reveille! Everyone up and dressed in fifteen minutes, assemble at the parade ground! Anyone late joins me for a fun morning run until breakfast time!"
At my thunderous command, the officers newly assigned to my battalion—now my training subjects—scrambled into action.
Among them were captains older than me, but since I was the only one who'd devised this kind of training...
Even the second lieutenants up to captains in their mid-thirties were fumbling like amateurs, unaccustomed to this novel regimen.
Some rushed so much they buttoned their uniforms wrong, ripping seams, or put them on inside out in the chaos.
"You idiot! How do you expect to wear your breastplate like that? Get it together."
"My number three button! We're gonna be late for assembly at this rate!"
"I thought coming under Captain Jaeger—the academy grad and war hero—would be a breeze, but what is this...?"
Was it because they'd already endured three days of my torment?
Even as they grumbled, they swiftly donned their armor and bolted outside to grab their pikes from the armory.
About ten minutes later, the last stragglers finally assembled, their faces puffy and exhausted from sleep.
The tallest second lieutenant among them, Lieutenant McNair, raised his hand in the center and shouted.
"All twelve members of 1st Platoon, directly under Battalion Commander Jaeger, present and accounted for!"
"Good work, everyone. Now, morning run starts—now. If even one of you lags behind me, you'll all be thrusting pikes until lights out tonight!"
At the mention of battalion-wide responsibility, the faces of these freshly transferred officers crumpled.
But I outranked them all, and in this pre-modern era steeped in macho ideals, it's a virtue for superiors to lead by example in training.
Besides, having been forged on the Rhineland Front, I wasn't about to lose any endurance contest to them...
They might gripe about the collective punishment,
but deep down, they'd be admiring, "Our battalion commander leads from the front like a true man. As expected of the Silver Knight's Sword Cross recipient..."
"Morning run starts now. Out the main gate, three laps around the fortress, then back. Front ranks, forward—march!"
With that, the lead second lieutenant broke into a run, followed by the rest in their breastplate-adorned uniforms.
I joined in right behind, pacing myself at a steady clip—not too fast, not too slow—to chase their heels.
The officer trainees up ahead, desperate to avoid being overtaken and facing endless pike drills late into the night, picked up the pace even more.
To really get under their skin, I tossed in a few taunts.
"You guys are officers of the Jaeger Battalion—no way you'll let me catch you, right? The speed I'm at is exactly what the enlisted run at... I trust you won't get overtaken!"
My current pace was about 14 km/h.
Slower than a modern marathoner, but blazing fast for an ordinary person on a long run.
It's a speed few untrained folks could match, especially since...
The enlisted run without the breastplates and greaves the officers wear.
So even if the officers go all-out and I catch them, it's nothing to be disappointed about.
In any case, I focused on pushing them to their physical limits during these morning runs to build their stamina.
As we passed the halfway mark of our daily route, the officers gritted their teeth and shouted.
"How can officers of the great Reich Empire have less stamina than the enlisted? Teeth clenched—run!"
"Grr! We can do this!!"
"Only half left! Hang in there!!"
Fueled by the pride of being Reich Empire nobles, the officers somehow endured until the end of the run.
Upon returning to the starting point, they collapsed gasping onto the ground.
Meanwhile, at just nineteen, with my stamina boosted from rolling on the Rhineland Front last time,
I stood before them unflustered, not even winded.
"Good work, all of you. Breakfast will be here soon—fuel up, then we move to the next training."
And then, mealtime.
Here, well-meaning higher-ups often say commanders should eat with their troops to build camaraderie...
But crashing their one moment of rest after brutal training is a terrible idea.
So I decided to eat alone at a discreet distance.
Once I was well away, the officers gathered in small groups, scarfing down their rations and chatting.
"Is the battalion commander even human...? He ran at the same speed as us, but he's fine."
"Forget that, Lieutenant. Isn't the training too brutal? This morning's run felt like an hour of death sprinting, and now pike drills right after chow?"
"I thought it'd be easy since he stripped out all the fancy moves to make it simple for the troops, but who knew he'd measure our arm swings with a ruler like a drill sergeant... That guy's a monster, a total beast."
Most of the talk was mild griping about the harsh training and some backtalk about me.
But hearing it filled me with quiet satisfaction.
Not because I'm some psycho who enjoys being badmouthed—no.
Just days ago, these officers shared a battalion in name only, with zero cohesion.
Unit cohesion was abysmal, but my philosophy—that grinding through hell together forges unbreakable bonds—was proving true.
They were rapidly bonding over gossip about me.
"Still, he's impressive, right? Even 'light' training armor weighs over ten kilos, and he did three laps around the fortress without breaking a sweat."
"As expected of a war hero at his age—he's on another level. From commoner stock to this position in a flash..."
"The boss's exploits steal the spotlight, but even the rank-and-file under him... I heard this quietly while posted in division personnel: the lieutenants he promoted on the battlefield are rumored to pass the captaincy exam first round, no sweat."
At that, the officers' eyes lit up.
Because an officer's life hinges on promotions.
Retiring as a major gets you knightly honors for life, but captain? You're just an ex-officer from a noble house.
That's still elite—enough for garrison command in some backwater...
but who wouldn't prefer a pensioned knighthood? Better yet, lieutenant colonel or higher, inheritable nobility for your kids.
And the lieutenant who'd worked in personnel continued.
"So stick with our battalion commander, and promotions are guaranteed. That's why we're busting our asses in this dogshit training."
Thinking I wasn't watching, they all voiced agreement loudly and finished eating.
That day, I nitpicked them into pike drills until 8 p.m.
This was purely to boost their combat prowess and unity—not revenge for the gossip. Absolutely not.
Over two weeks of such training, I whipped the officers into peak stamina and cohesion.
Before long, some were calling each other "bro" off-duty.