Desertion
Catherine von Valde stared blankly at the barracks entrance where Raul had vanished, the silence stretching on and on.
“……Raul?”
The name slipped from her lips, small and fragile, and dissolved into the empty air with no reply.
She had been so certain he would stop. That the threat of exile would terrify him. That he would drop to his knees, beg for mercy, swear it would never happen again. Instead, he had walked away with that light, unburdened stride, as if nothing in this place had ever held him.
A sharp, stinging pain flared in her chest.
……What is this feeling?
Catherine clutched at her breast with trembling fingers. Her breath came quick and shallow. The ache pulsed, unpleasant and insistent.
From childhood, Raul Lentz had never once disobeyed an order. Yet the man who had just spoken to her—what had that been? Calling her “you bitch,” accusing her of stealing credit, lecturing her as though they were equals. He had looked utterly free of regret. The more she thought about it, the worse the pain grew.
“He’s lost his mind. He must have gone completely mad.”
She ground her teeth. Rage made her whole body shake. The fear that he truly might never return clawed at her, so she lashed out harder, piling every accusation she could invent onto his head. After all, who had given Raul Lentz his fame? Who had granted him the chance to learn the Valde family’s swordsmanship and secret arts? It had been her mercy—Catherine von Valde’s mercy. And this was how he repaid it? One ungrateful slave had simply disappeared. So why did her chest feel so tight, as if something were lodged there, blocking every breath?
“You thought I’d collapse without you? How presumptuous.”
She raked her fingers through her hair and glared at the mountain of documents on the desk.
“Traitorous bastard.”
The kingdom was locked in a brutal war with the Empire. Deserting the front lines at a time like this was a clear violation of military law, a betrayal of the vassal house’s duty. Even without lifting a finger, Raul Lentz would spend the rest of his life hunted as a cowardly deserter.
“I’ll make you regret leaving.”
She still refused to accept reality. A few days of hardship, she told herself, and he would come crawling back, broken and begging. He had to. Because the one who could not survive without the other was him, not her.
Yet a small voice whispered in the back of her mind: Are you truly all right without him?
Catherine ignored it, picked up her quill, and muttered, “How am I supposed to check all of this?”
Supply lists and strategic outlines lay scattered everywhere. Normally Raul would have used his talent for numbers and geography to craft flawless plans, leaving her only the task of signing her name. Now she frowned at the papers.
“……Were there three supply routes, or four?”
Without him, who would brief tomorrow’s war council? The analysts who tracked the kingdom’s irregular movements were all his direct subordinates.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll do it myself. I received the same education. I’m the one they call the War Hero.”
She forced the unease down and touched the quill to the page, but her fingers trembled. The image of Raul turning his back on her refused to fade; the letters on the paper kept blurring.
******
The scratch of the quill filled the barracks. Numbers refused to register. Raul’s face kept rising in her mind.
Then the leather curtain was yanked aside and heavy footsteps entered.
“Loyalty! Lady Catherine, I have a report!”
It was Kalis Reizen, the red-haired knight with her hair cropped short. Vice-commander of the Fenrir Unit that Raul himself had forged, she looked more rattled than Catherine had ever seen her.
Catherine did not look up from the documents. “What is it?”
“It’s…… Commander Raul has deserted! The border guards just reported he crossed on horseback. The situation seems serious……”
“I already know.”
Kalis’s eyes widened. “You do? Ah! Did you send him on a secret mission? Some enemy that needed to be handled quietly……”
“No. He deserted. Literally.”
Catherine finally raised her head. Cold frost glittered in her eyes.
“He said he was tired of living like a loyal hound. Have I really been that cruel to him?”
The resentful gaze pinned Kalis in place; the knight felt her breath catch.
“Kalis. What do you think?”
“……Pardon?”
“Did I truly treat him like a hunting dog? I only gave him the duties expected of a vassal of the Valde family. Has he forgotten where his honor and comfort came from?”
Kalis swallowed hard. The words she could not say rose to the back of her throat.
Of course it wasn’t normal, you crazy bitch.
She had seen everything from Raul’s side. All glory funneled to the family. Every filthy, dangerous task left to Raul and the Fenrir Unit. And the rewards? Never enough. Raul poured even his own share of coin into wounded subordinates and the families of the fallen, always wearing patched leather armor. Yet the authority of the Valde family in the kingdom was absolute. The sacrifice of the Lentz vassals had been unquestioned custom for centuries. Anyone who questioned that order was branded a madman.
“……I don’t believe there was any problem.”
In the end, Kalis bowed her head and gave the cowardly answer. Taking Raul’s side here would only endanger her own neck.
Catherine’s lips curved in satisfaction.
“Good. That means what I did to him was justified. He simply grew greedy.”
“What will you do with the commander? Shall I assemble a pursuit party?”
Thud.
Catherine set the quill down.
“No. Leave him. Wherever he goes in the kingdom, the label of deserter will follow. How long can he possibly last?”
She rose and approached Kalis.
“Raul is mine. This is only a temporary fit of rebellion. He will return.”
She laid a hand on Kalis’s shoulder.
“As vice-commander, you’ve learned more at his side than anyone. Kalis—from today, you are the commander of the Fenrir Unit.”
Kalis’s pupils shook. Take Raul’s place? Handle all the monstrous workload and tactical command he had shouldered? But refusal was not an option. She clenched her fists and bowed.
“I…… accept your command, Lady Catherine.”
Catherine turned to the window, gazing toward the distant border Raul had crossed, and added coldly, “Show them. Prove that a man like Raul Lentz is nothing but expendable fodder that can be replaced at any time. Win tomorrow’s skirmish against the kingdom’s army perfectly. Only then will Raul come crawling back to reclaim his usefulness.”
“And the operation?”
Catherine tossed a single folder at her.
“Here.”
Kalis caught it reflexively and carefully turned the first page. With every page she flipped, her brow furrowed deeper.
“……Lady Catherine. Is this all? There are no detailed troop deployments, no supply route plans, no handover on expected enemy ambush points……”
Catherine rested her chin on her hand, looking annoyed.
“Must I spell out every little detail? Raul never asked for such things. He judged for himself and delivered perfect results. Now that you are commander, you should be able to manage at least that much.”
“That’s……”
“You’re not about to claim you’re less capable than Raul, are you? If you’ve been assisting him as vice-commander, simply do what he did.”
To Catherine, strategy and tactics were simply results that appeared as if by magic. She had never known—and never cared to know—how many nights Raul had spent poring over maps and grinding informants into dust to produce them.
Kalis bit her lip. Further argument would be like shouting at a wall.
“……Understood. I will take my leave.”
She saluted in silence and strode out of the barracks. The cold night air hit her face, but the heat rising in her chest refused to cool.
“Ha……”
A bitter laugh escaped. It was so absurd she felt like crying.
“Incompetent bitch.”
She spat the curse under her breath. In ten short minutes she had seen the true face of the woman who had hidden behind Raul Lentz’s shield and worn the title of War Hero while sipping tea.
“Damn it! What am I supposed to do now?”
She raked her fingers through her hair. Tomorrow she would lead hundreds of Fenrir soldiers into battle, their lives in her hands. She stared into the darkness beyond the border, toward the man who had already fled so far—Raul Lentz. She resented him, yet she understood him with painful clarity.
Commander…… how did you endure this madness for so many years?
The void Raul had left behind was already terrifying.
******
Three days after crossing the kingdom’s border on horseback, I reached a filthy tavern in the borderlands—suitable enough for a fugitive to wet his throat. I was nursing a harsh drink when voices from the next table scraped at my nerves.
“Heard the Fenrir Unit got completely wiped out?”
“Come on, those kingdom bloodhounds? No way.”
“It’s true. They walked right into an Imperial trap. Supply lines cut, starving, on the verge of annihilation.”
“No shit. Even that monster Raul Lentz lost?”
“Nah, word is he already deserted. Abandoned the kingdom and ran.”
“Bullshit. That loyal dog?”
My hand tightened around the cup.
“That’s not all. Rumor says the vice-commander was taken hostage.”
“Hah! That red-haired whore? If the Empire’s demi-human units got her, she’s in for a hell of a time.”
The mercenaries’ crude laughter filled the tavern. Kalis Reizen—my capable subordinate who had watched my back for five years. Hearing her called a whore made my blood boil.
I stood and walked to their table. Then I drew the dagger at my waist and drove it straight into the center of the wooden surface.
Thunk!
Silence fell instantly. The reeking mercenaries stared up at me in stunned confusion.
“Where is it?”
My low voice made one of them scowl and rise.
“Who the hell are you? Got a death wish?”
The moment he reached for my collar—
Shunk!
“Ghk……!”
I yanked the dagger free and drove it through his throat. Blood sprayed across my cheek, but I didn’t blink. He stared at me with empty eyes before toppling backward.
“What the fuck……”
“What the hell……”
The other mercenaries scrambled away in terror. I held the blood-dripping blade and locked eyes with the trembling man still seated beside the corpse.
“That was for insulting Kalis. Now, let’s start over.”
I pressed the cold steel under his chin.
“Where is it? Where is the Fenrir Unit trapped? Answer.”
“I-it’s…… near Arkan Fortress…… the Red Canyon! Please, spare me!”
The moment I heard the answer, I withdrew the blade.
I’m going to save her.
I couldn’t leave a capable subordinate to die. And rescuing her would be the most satisfying way to spit in the kingdom’s—and Catherine’s—face.