Do Not Insult the Saint
Do Not Insult the Saint
Unable to ignore the division commander's summons, Daniel followed the intelligence staff officer, Pelf, and made his way.
Having exited the trench and arrived at the field headquarters, Daniel drew the gaze of every commissioned officer.
From the perspective of others, Daniel was a genius chief of staff who had struck at the enemy's blind spot the moment he took up his post.
A few officers who spotted Daniel even murmured words of praise as they passed by.
"Chief of Staff."
"That was a brilliant operation."
"Please continue to lead the army henceforth."
Each and every one of their words only burdened Daniel.
Even so, it wasn't something he could go around shouting, 'It's a misunderstanding! I did give the order, but I never knew they'd actually be there!', so he simply nodded, maintaining a solemn expression.
After passing many such officers, Daniel arrived at the command tent.
"The division commander will be waiting for you inside."
Nodding at Pelf's words, Daniel let out a quiet sigh and entered the tent.
Division Commander Mordon was examining an operations map on which the war situation was drawn. Sensing someone's presence, he turned around, spotted Daniel, and his face lit up.
"Oh! Our chief of staff! Welcome!"
With a friendly smile that bore no trace of the prickly attitude he had shown on the first day, Mordon beamed.
"You were right! The Allied rat bastards had crossed the front line and were hiding in a cave in the woods near the division. As expected of an elite staff officer from Headquarters, you are indeed different!"
"You flatter me."
"Flatter you? I haven't even begun to praise you yet!"
Letting out a hearty laugh, Mordon patted Daniel on the shoulder and walked toward the makeshift table.
On the table lay two glasses and a bottle of expensive whiskey.
Taking a seat, Mordon spoke as he opened the whiskey bottle.
"I've heard you like whiskey. Come and sit over here."
"Although I do enjoy whiskey, alcohol on the battlefield is..."
"You know what I mean, so just sit down. I dislike repeating myself."
Judging that he couldn't refuse, Daniel walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
Once he confirmed Daniel was seated, Mordon lifted the whiskey bottle and poured the whiskey into the glass.
"This is a Lantemile 32-year. It's not an easy one to come by."
"You said Lantemile..."
"Yes. It's made by our family. We've been in the distilling business for generations, you see. Frankly, our family members may have foul personalities, but they make damn fine liquor. You'll like it."
He couldn't refuse to taste it when it was presented with such words.
"Then I shall have just one sip."
Lifting the glass to wet his lips, Daniel was inwardly surprised.
"It has an incredibly clean flavor."
Seeming pleased with Daniel's concise assessment, Mordon let out a low chuckle.
"You have a good eye. That's why our family can do business with the pickiest of drinkers. It's not first-rate, but it's at least second-rate. More than that..."
Having poured whiskey into his own glass as well, Mordon set the bottle down and looked at Daniel.
"You've done a tremendous thing. Frankly, I didn't believe it at first. So the rumors about you being a war hero aren't groundless after all?"
"It was simply good fortune."
"No need for modesty. Even if it was luck, the fact remains that you achieved results. As you know, if we play this right, we might even be able to use their own operation against them."
Mordon raised his glass, emptied the whiskey, and let out a low hum of appreciation.
Staring at his empty glass, Mordon wore a deep smile as he turned back to Daniel.
"We found a Morse telegraph in their backpacks."
After a moment's thought, Daniel answered.
"They were planning to transmit coordinates via Morse code to avoid having their communications intercepted. Even if the message were picked up, it would be encrypted, so the enemy attack would have begun before we could break the cipher."
"Sharp as ever. Then you would also know a method to decrypt their Morse messages and figure out their operating frequencies in a short time, wouldn't you?"
"Bribery is most desirable, but given that the enemy risked their lives to cross the front line, it's unlikely to work. In that case, are you perhaps considering torture?"
At Daniel's frank question, Mordon shrugged once.
"I know it's inhumane, but there's no other way. We are at war, after all. If we can't extract information from the enemy, it is our own side that will die."
He wasn't wrong.
The battlefield was not a place where one could advance solely through humane methods.
Considering that the Allied Nations, whether openly or secretly, also tortured and executed Imperial Army prisoners, it was much the same on both sides.
"Is the interrogation currently in progress?"
At Daniel's question, Mordon nodded.
"There's an officer with a particular talent for that sort of thing, so I left it to her. She also assisted in apprehending the enemy platoon. Ah. Now that I think of it, she's a talent you brought in."
I did? Daniel stared quietly, wondering who it could be, and Mordon added.
"You'd surely know, given your acquaintance. It's Lieutenant Frien..."
The moment he heard the name Frien, Daniel hastily blurted out.
"That is unacceptable! It could become dangerous!"
Mordon, who had found Daniel's reaction puzzling, soon let out a laugh as if he understood.
"Your care for your subordinates is most devoted. Don't worry. The prisoner is bound to a chair and in no state to put up any resistance. There's no need to fret about Lieutenant Frien getting hurt."
Looking at Mordon, who laughed while pouring whiskey into his own glass, Daniel broke out in a cold sweat.
For what Daniel was worrying about was not Frien, but the prisoner being tortured.
'To think that Frien, who is fanatically devoted to nationalism, has been put in charge of interrogating an Allied officer...'
It was no different from tossing a cat a fish coated in catnip.
*
Field Temporary Interrogation Room.
"Keurgh..."
The Allied platoon leader, Dahamen, groaned while bound to a chair.
His head was still filled with nothing but confusion.
For the Imperial Army, which by all rights should have known nothing, had suddenly launched a search operation in the morning and stormed the cave.
By the time he realized what was happening, the Imperial Army had already surrounded them on all sides, leaving no avenue for escape.
In the end, he was captured, dragged all the way to the 7th Division, and found himself a prisoner.
'Damn it.'
The Imperial Army would, of course, attempt torture to extract information.
Yet Dahamen's two eyes, stained with hatred, blazed a vivid blue as he clenched his teeth tightly.
'As if I would ever surrender to measly torture.'
He would die before divulging information harmful to the Allied Nations.
Just as he was steeling his resolve, a female officer entered the temporary interrogation room.
The woman with light-brown hair braided back had clear, deep black eyes.
'What's this? Are they planning to put me at ease?'
Her youthful and delicate appearance, so incongruous with the idea of torture, was only baffling.
The woman spotted Dahamen and gave a bright smile.
"Hello. I am Lieutenant Frien, currently serving under the Chief of Staff, Colonel Daniel Steiner."
"...Daniel Steiner?"
Upon hearing a name he couldn't help but know even if he wished he didn't, Dahamen sneered.
"Fuck. I was wondering which lunatic gave such a crazy order, and it was the Devil of the Empire."
It was more than clear now.
If it were Daniel Steiner, infamous for his genius staff work and devilish conduct, he had more than enough ability to see through the Allied Nations' operation.
"Even so, how that son of a bitch caught on..."
Dahamen stopped mid-sentence and closed his mouth.
For the woman who had introduced herself as Frien was directing a piercingly cold glare at him.
"That's strange. I don't recall ever giving you permission to insult the Saint."
Though he sensed the atmosphere growing heavy, Dahamen only scoffed.
"Saint? You can't be calling that devil bastard a saint? It seems that madman Daniel Steiner isn't the only crazy one in the Imperial Army."
Frien, who had been quietly looking down at Dahamen, suddenly smiled and walked over to a corner.
There stood a wooden table where the torture implements were laid out.
"Before we engage in a proper conversation, it seems necessary to enlighten you, a heretic and a beast. It will be a somewhat... violent discussion, but I suppose there's no helping it."
Frien picked up the pliers and examined them slowly.
"You know, have you ever wondered why they usually pull out fingernails during torture? It's because the area beneath the fingernails is densely packed with nerve endings sensitive to stimuli."
"..."
"Moreover, fingernails are not simply attached to the skin's surface but deeply fixed even to the root. If you forcibly remove them, the nail bed and root are torn, resulting in severe bleeding and tissue damage."
Frien lightly opened and closed the pliers.
"In that process, a chemical substance called prostaglandin is secreted, and this substance makes the nerves even more sensitive, inducing extreme pain."
"You..."
"Ah, ah. I just remembered. To use an analogy, it's like bringing a hammer down onto flesh carved out with a knife. I'm certain it will be exceedingly painful."
Seeming satisfied with the condition of the pliers, Frien turned around and approached Dahamen.
"But you know what? They say that usually, after pulling out all ten fingernails, you can no longer inflict pain. Because the subject faints or their pain threshold rises."
"Wait. Don't come any closer...!"
"However, it seems you won't have to worry about that. You see, I'm actually extremely proficient in healing magic. I can regenerate your fingernails in the same spot and pull them out again, over and over."
Dahamen's breathing began to quicken.
Every time Frien took a step closer, his body trembled as if convulsing.
"Aren't you curious now?"
A shadow fell over Dahamen's face.
"Just how many..."
Looking down at Dahamen, who stared up at her frozen with terror, Frien smiled brightly.
"Fingernails it will take for you to be enlightened?"