War Heroes Gathering in the North (2)
War Heroes Gathering in the North (2)
'Will my rank insignia be torn off today?'
Lately, I've developed a habit of climbing the watchtower whenever I get a moment and staring south with binoculars.
At this rate, I might just turn into a stone statue from waiting for my rank insignia.
"Major Piel, I've finished censoring the mail. There were no issues."
"...Why are you telling me that, and why are you speaking as if you're reporting to a superior, Lord Deville?"
"Since you're a fellow conscript, I thought you should know anyway."
Some time ago, Hildea designated the supply status of the Northern Ainshvan Army as classified information.
「If our supply status leaks to the elves, the border will collapse. Leaking supply status outside the unit constitutes national treason.」
That was the terrifying logic she presented.
Therefore, my fellow conscripts and officers from the central region whose mandatory service hasn't ended are all subject to mail censorship.
"I'm a bit worried. There must have been intelligence sent to the rear main family before the control was implemented. What should we do?"
"Don't worry. They'll just dismiss it as their son struggling with military life and spouting all sorts of bullshit begging them to get him out with draft corruption."
"Is that true?"
"Humans are more irrational than you think. They believe what they want to believe, and they ignore any information that surpasses their own intelligence, dismissing it as 'nonsense.'"
Just skimming through the war novel parts of Earth authors is full of content with broken plausibility.
The tragedy of humanity lies in ignoring one's own self, steeped in the grand illusion of acting rationally.
"Major Piel!"
Hildea, who had finished her morning training, approached me with a slightly flushed face.
"Marshall Burger is needed!"
"I shall provide it."
Hildea was extremely fond of the Nike PX combat boots I gave her.
As expected, civilian market supplies are better for everyday life.
I could order individually packaged burgers, but I deliberately make and feed her burgers by hand every time.
It's a form of bonding.
Making this Northern Grand Duchess Sword Master psychologically dependent on me.
"Major Piel, but what should we do? Both the commander and vice-commander of the 2nd Army were killed in action."
I'll do it, me!
Just give me the rank insignia!
I barely managed to suppress these words from bursting out and answered as objectively as possible.
"It seems about time Vice-commander Basel took on an independent corps command of his own."
We've already sent a report to the capital that a 'portion' of the 2nd Army stragglers have joined up.
However, a follow-up report that all 29,500 personnel have assembled has not yet been sent.
It's common sense that unavoidable 'reporting delays' happen on the battlefield, isn't it?
Hildea, the Sword Master who rose meteorically due solely to her swordsmanship talent, found this reporting delay extremely burdensome.
"But is it really okay? This is deceiving His Majesty the King...."
"To deceive the enemy, we must first deceive our allies. What do you think will happen if the Eastern Ainshvan forces reorganize into over 70,000 troops and yet have no issues with their supply status?"
"...."
"How huge a shitstorm will the southern pig-dogs raise when they learn of this fact? And how much will they torment our pitiful King?"
Besides, those bastards are already on edge because of the desertion upheaval in the 1st Army.
We'd be lucky if they didn't outright sabotage the front lines.
Rebecca and the knights were very satisfied with this logic of mine and joined in persuading Hildea.
The fact that we've reorganized into a great army of 70,000 and are resolving our own supply internally was packaged as a 'desperate decision for the salvation of the nation.'
Reporting will continue to be delayed indefinitely into the future.
"Commander Hildea, please do not forget. The survival of our Ainshvan Front is the top priority.
We must survive to defend the Leodis Kingdom from being devoured by the wicked elves."
"Umm, understood. Don't worry. I am also the master of Count Balckenhardt's territory now."
***
The joined 2nd Army troops recovered their stamina by consuming tens of thousands of kilocalories worth of corn soup every day.
The risk of internal organ rupture and death from suddenly eating high-calorie food after a long period of starvation... is bullshit, because medieval-land Mana soldiers don't have such issues.
'Right. Just like an engine doesn't blow up from refilling it with fuel after a long time, right?'
Now was the time for belated cleanup.
At last, we set out to recover the bodies of the 1st and 2nd Army command staff and knights who had gone off to hunt wild buffalo.
"Major Piel, is there any practical benefit to risking danger to recover the fallen?"
"A funeral is originally a ceremony for the living, not the dead."
The knights understood these words immediately and moved without complaint.
After searching, we finally discovered the 1st and 2nd Army commanders and knights who had been annihilated during the buffalo herd raid.
They had already turned to bleached bones, and if not for... ah, right. There's no such thing as dog tags here.
"That's strange. Does the body turn into bleached bones this quickly normally?"
Perhaps living Mana tanks decay faster, so I asked.
"Must be the elves' doing. Didn't you say those bastards are closer to a moving plant colony? Like plants, they sucked all the nutrients from the corpses as fertilizer."
The knights, burning with rage, collected the bleached bones.
Those of general rank could be identified through their rank insignia, but lieutenant colonel and below were very difficult.
Though we were keenly wary of an elven legion ambush, nothing happened until we returned.
The western front observation posts remain quiet to this day, as well.
The Ancient Tree Legion that arose from the elf graves we buried aside, that side has been fully quiet.
The more I think about it, the more I suspect that the recent night raid by the golem legion was a 'firepower test.'
"Major Piel."
Sir Basel approached me with a serious expression and whispered so only I could hear.
"Is there any way you could get some Valentine 17-Year? One of my long-time subordinates has a birthday coming up, and I'd like to throw a party...."
"I'm sorry. Whiskey is not yet in sufficient supply."
"I'd give you any amount of gold coins."
"Even if you gave me 100 million gold, there is simply no stock at the moment. The entire quantity is the amount meant for Commander Hildea. Why not suggest it to the Commander herself instead?"
"Hah.... How can a vassal request a share meant for the Commander-in-Chief's own consumption? Understood."
Because I happily unleashed whiskey during the last 2nd Army search-and-recover operation, the knights are now in an uproar.
None of them can forget that fiery taste and aroma of whiskey and are eyeing me every day.
They're showing a degree of addictive interest on a completely different level than the snack bar days.
'Whiskey should only be released on special days. It's going to be positioned as a luxury premium supply item that money can't buy.'
"Then, could you at least somehow get me some chicken skewers? They've been suffering on the front lines for years, and I want to feed them something special, that's why."
The grilled skewers were something only the knights ate that day.
As expected, it's a flavor they want to share with their subordinates too.
"Since it's a birthday, I can specially manage to produce up to 10 for you. Anything beyond that is impossible."
"Thank you! Thank you! And this is my token of sincerity."
Gold coins keep piling up in my subspace bracelet daily, but there's no use for them in the barracks.
"Absolutely do not tell the other knights."
"I will never disappoint the Supply Officer."
Recently, I've become the Supply Officer.
The former Supply Officer cheerfully handed over the position to me and is devoting himself to his original duties as a shock troop commander.
Meaning he's undergoing intense training while consuming tens of thousands of kilocalories worth of corn soup every day.
Today, before the sun set, I climbed the watchtower again and looked far south with my binoculars.
"Ah, could that be...?"
A wagon train was visible in the distance.
Had my lieutenant colonel rank insignia finally arrived?
Filled with anticipation, I personally went out to the guard post to greet them, but....
"Major, it's the Barkos Trading Company. We've brought a full load of the construction materials you ordered previously."
"...Handle the storage yourselves."
The rank insignia is too late.
Originally, it should have arrived a few days ago. What could have possibly happened?
I'm anxious and impatient.
Please, don't tell me the whole world is forcibly suppressing my promotion like this.
"Major Piel, your expression is bad. Do you have some worry?"
Hildea, who had raided my room again tonight, sat in her pajamas and devoured burgers.
I've been frowning for a while now, yet she only asked after eating 30 burgers.
She must have been quite hungry for a night snack.
"I'm worried that the knighthood decoration and rank insignia haven't arrived from the capital. Why are they so late?"
"Isn't it normal for it to be delayed by a few days? Don't be so impatient; it's better to wait leisurely. By the way, could I drink a bit more cola?"
"I shall provide it."
"Thank you for the meal."
When she eats burgers, Hildea's face looks exactly like an idol appearing on a gourmet variety show.
The happy expression of a girl eating something delicious is perfectly captured on her face.
If someone would just pin a big, cool rank insignia on my chest, I'm confident I could walk around with that same expression every day.
'Damn it, I'm way too anxious about this.'
***
And the next day.
My ominous premonition became reality.
"The military inspector general's party that departed from the capital was ambushed by a monster legion while passing through Marquis Oltain's territory and was decimated!
The messenger who barely escaped the battlefield collapsed after receiving a priest's healing while covered in blood!"
"Ambushed by a monster legion? Don't tell me it was the Ancient Tree Legion?"
"That is unknown! The messenger only said it was a surprise attack by a monster legion!"
The unit was turned upside down. My heart was turned upside down too.
My promotion to lieutenant colonel was right before my eyes, and I'm getting screwed over like this?
"Commander! We've checked the messenger's belongings. The written orders, letter of appointment, and rank insignia are all intact!"
Messenger, you bastard.
Your sense of duty is truly commendable.
The military inspector general's sense of responsibility is no joke either.
That determination to ensure the king's commands, at least, were delivered to the front lines no matter the situation, I have duly inherited it.
If I openly rejoiced, I'd look like a promotion-crazed maniac, so I managed my expression for now.
"Marquis Oltain's territory is west of the Baltics River, isn't it? Why would they come that way? They would have to cross the river twice."
"We'll probably know when the messenger wakes up."
"Perhaps they tried to check how devastated the marquisate was on their way to the north."
"It must be the ancient tree legion that fled after all, right? As Major Piel said, about 1,000 of them remain unsubjugated and unaccounted for."
I desperately fought the urge to keep glancing at the letter of appointment and rank insignia.
First, the messenger has to wake up so we can know everything.
"However, the messenger's physical condition is so terrible, I doubt whether he can endure the healing."
I asked with a worried expression.
"Are his injuries so severe that he can't endure the healing?"
"The opposite. If the injuries are too severe, one cannot endure the pain of the healing."
"What do you mean?"
"The priest's blessing causes pain during the healing process. The more severe the injury, the greater the pain. Therefore, cultivating the willpower to overcome such pain is a foundational discipline for strong soldiers."
Hildeg puffed out her chest with pride beside me.
"Major Piel, this commander once endured the healing of a severed leg without letting out a single scream."
"It was truly remarkable. You endured pain that would make even a Sword Imperial-level knight shudder without a scream."
"Oof, if it were me, I'd be dead already."
Something is dizzying.
So, pain proportional to the size of the injury occurs during the healing process?
And if you can't endure it, you die of shock, right?
"Is that really a healing blessing... wait, no. Does it actually heal?"
"Of course. It heals perfectly as if you were never injured."
"In cases like severed limbs, the chances are high that you'll die from being unable to endure the pain, but regardless, the recovery itself is cleanly done."
Fuck, this is no time for me to be standing around.
【Requesting supply of field emergency kit.】
【Ketamine Set】
【Efficacy: Complete pain block, consciousness maintenance, blood pressure maintenance (prevention of hemorrhagic shock)】
"I must go to the medical station."
"Must you? If he survives, someone will bring him here anyway."
"...I'm going there to save him."
So basically, it's like 'healing because it hurts' or something?
Pain proportionate to the injury is inflicted while healing....
I don't want to render meaningless the resolve of the military inspector general who sent the rank insignia through and protected it at least.
A Ketamine anesthetic analgesic should be able to block the pain of this painful healing.
'Esteemed Military Inspector General, I do not wish to lament belatedly in front of your body, asking how you could have sent only the rank insignia like this.'
It's time for me to go and protect the guardian deity of my rank insignia now.