Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Ways to Bond with Seniors (1)
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“Hey, Commandant.”
“Y-Yes?”
The commandant, who had been lost in a daze due to Count Schlieffen's constant visits over the past few months, hastily pulled himself together at the words.
With the count practically commuting to the commandant's office, the poor man was at his wits' end.
Ever since their first meeting, Count Schlieffen had developed a bizarre obsession with Rommel, putting an end to the commandant's peaceful days.
Every day, he had to personally compile and report evaluations on Rommel... fetch his quiz scores...
The commandant, now able to recite every detail of a mere commoner cadet's life story, suffered daily pangs of self-loathing.
'And I'm a general, no less...'
The worst part was that even with such diligent reporting, the count always frowned in dissatisfaction.
It wasn't as if the reports were incomplete—Rommel's grades were always at the top among the cadets. The commandant couldn't fathom why he reacted that way.
...Of course, from a third-party perspective, the reason was plain as day.
'Why on earth...?'
Count Schlieffen simply still despised Rommel.
For his predictions on trench warfare and such to hold water, Rommel needed to score poorly, right?
Yet not only did the scores hold steady, Rommel's reputation only grew with time.
In this headache-inducing situation, Count Schlieffen devised a brilliant countermove...
“Cadet Rommel, I mean.”
“Yes...”
As Count Schlieffen uttered that name once more in a serious tone, the commandant desperately fought to keep a weary expression off his face.
“A cadet of such excellence ought to participate in the parade and catch His Majesty the Kaiser's eye, don't you think?”
“...”
Blink—blink—the commandant slowly blinked, unable to grasp the count's words.
After an eternity of mental processing, he finally reacted.
“...Pardon?”
“Is that the response of a Prussian officer?”
“No, it can't be!! Rommel is just a first-year—there's no precedent for this...”
The commandant rushed toward the count, pleading desperately, but the count brushed him off with a cheerful wave.
Perfect timing with midterms approaching too—it was an ideal way to disrupt his studies and shatter his relationships with the upperclassmen.
'Heh heh, Erwin Rommel. You're marching in that parade.'
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The moment the instructor announced it was on Count Schlieffen's orders, a surround-sound 4K video played in my head.
'That petty...!'
I ground my teeth, but there was little I could do.
'I'd just barely earned good evaluations from the other cadets...!'
Only the best-looking, tallest, and highest-scoring among the veteran cadets are selected for the parade.
If I displaced one of them...
I wouldn't just get an earful—they'd make me regret it.
“This is insane...”
“Tell me about it. One wrong move, and the seniors might drag the entire first-year class out to the parade ground.”
Manfred spoke in a worried tone, and I let out heavy sighs.
But I couldn't give up... There had to be a way out of this...
“...Should I just bolt?”
“Hey, hey, no!”
Manfred grabbed my shoulders in horror at my offhand remark.
But the more I chewed on it, the better it seemed.
“No, I heard the commandant himself say he'd grant leave before. If I play this right...”
No matter how lofty Count Schlieffen's name, he was retired now.
The commandant didn't want me in the parade either...
And with traditions and precedents involved, most of the cadet school would think the same.
“If we can just handle Count Schlieffen...”
“Are you Erwin Rommel?”
As I pondered deeply, a burly man who looked like an upperclassman approached with a stiff expression.
Damn it, word had already leaked.
“Yes, I'm Erwin Rommel.”
“I'm Kurt Arthur Benno Student. Pleased to meet you.”
'Kurt Student...'
I knew him as a historic figure in airborne operations. He went here too, huh.
That meant he was a true ace, admitted to the main cadet school from commoner stock.
Compared to me, who relied on connections for a backdoor transfer, he was in a league of his own.
He glanced at Manfred, then said to me,
“This might be awkward with your friend here. Shall we step outside?”
“No, no, I'll go. You two talk freely.”
Manfred jumped up, waving his hands frantically.
As he passed Senior Student, he gave me a subtle nod; I replied with a faint eye signal that everything was fine.
Click—the door shut, and the senior sat in a chair.
“Have a seat first.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Straight to the point. I've been selected as cadet representative for this parade, as you know, but there's a problem.”
“...”
“Your inclusion in the ranks means one of our cohort is unfairly at risk of dropping out.”
“I know.”
His brow furrowed at my response.
“You know... Then you know what needs to be done?”
With his massive build and threatening tone, it felt like facing a starving bear.
I shook my head and appealed to him.
“Participating in the parade wasn't my intention. Word is, it was on Excellency the Count's orders.”
“Count Schlieffen's?”
His pupils shook at my words.
Seizing the moment, I continued.
“With midterms looming, what's the point of forcing my way in and dealing with the seniors' wrath?”
“...Doesn't matter. Find a way to fix it.”
So you're the source of the problem—deal with it yourself.
Military life was the same across eras and cultures.
But I'd climbed to the top in that very world.
I didn't love the politics, but I knew how to play the game.
“Of course I'm looking... But I'm at my limit alone. I'd appreciate the seniors' help.”
“How?”
I smoothly drew the senior into the matter.
“Only the count wants me in the parade, right? Let's use that.”
“You have a plan.”
“Nothing grand. Just leveraging the strengths of mission-type command we've learned...”
Mission-type command, my ass.
And so I worked my silver tongue on Senior Student.
It was too flimsy to call a plan, but soon whispers of our talk spread secretly to the commandant and instructors.
“One, two, three! One, two, three! Goose-step harder!”
Still, I had to attend parade training for now, and they worked me like a dog.
My guts churned, nausea rising, but I gritted my teeth and endured.
Damn it, I'd forgotten Prussia was the birthplace of the goose-step.
“Again!”
I spotted Count Schlieffen watching us from afar, smirking.
Obviously enjoying my misery.
Wasn't he ashamed, picking on someone his grandson's age?
“Halt! Five-minute break!”
“Gahhh...”
“Hoo...”
I caught my breath with the other seniors, then slipped out of the count's line of sight.
The seniors glanced around cautiously, subtly blocking the view. Even the instructors pretended not to notice.
And... the moment the commandant got distracted with “Oh! What a fine bird!”...
I bolted toward the main building like my life depended on it. A senior, signaled in advance, dashed from the opposite side.
“Haaah...”
We crossed paths, each heading to our designated spots.
Yes, this was the plan.
From training to the actual parade, a scheme to fool Count Schlieffen somehow.
Show up for roll call, then swap out at the first chance.
Crude as hell, but... effective so far.
Uniforms were similar enough, and with hats on, hard to spot unless up close.
Especially for an older man like the count.
I'd considered simpler, more efficient ideas, but...
'Can't miss the chance to bond with the seniors.'
A blessing in disguise—this thrilling, heart-pounding secret op was rapidly closing the gap between us.
We'd been distant before; this was a godsend.
From classmates to seniors, then alumni. Gradually expanding my network would pay off later.
'...Though I've already burned bridges with Count Schlieffen.'
Shouldn't pick fights with military elders...
Hopefully, a time would come to mend things with him too.