Chapter 19
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Hazing
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"I want to go with you. But I can't leave the Knight Captain position vacant for too long. I'm sorry."
Sir Heinrich's voice was heavy.
"It's fine. It's only natural."
He meant it.
In truth, it would have made things much easier if Sir Heinrich had come along.
It wasn't because of his strength.
Of course, having a near-Swordmaster powerhouse by his side would be reassuring, but what mattered more was his 'authority'.
The disciple and closest confidant of Duke Walter. A top-tier knight poised to claim Swordmaster status with the right opportunity. That title alone would make it far easier to gain a voice within the legion.
"Be careful, young master. The northern barbarians have been unusually active lately. Especially the horse tribes—they've been crossing the border repeatedly, pillaging at will."
"I know."
"That's not all. I've heard the 7th Legion's situation... isn't good."
"In what way?"
"Sir Gerhardt, the former legion commander, was a battle-hardened soldier. But after he fell in battle... the legion's morale has plummeted. And... the deputy commander and staff won't look kindly on you, young master."
It was only natural.
A ten-year-old taking over for a fallen legion commander?
And one whose only combat experience was a single orc subjugation at that?
They'd just think the duke had lost his mind, shoving in his favored bastard son.
Of course, they wouldn't dare say it outright for fear of the 'Knight Slayer's' blade, but anyone would think the same.
"Please... come back alive."
"I will."
A ten-year-old legion commander—an utterly absurd situation.
No similar cases in past lives or this one, no matter how far back you searched history.
There were some. But they were all puppets.
Yet his father seemed dead serious about sending him.
If it was just to gain experience, he'd have assigned proper aides.
**
It was early morning. Fog blanketed the estate.
Lize scurried ahead with quick steps to unpack the luggage. An ambiguous role as maid-cum-adjutant.
She spread out the blanket more meticulously than usual, checked the water flask, fiddled with the emergency rations pouch.
She was tense.
So was he.
Before stepping onto the carriage stairs, he glanced back briefly.
The Krushtein ducal estate.
The massive stone building loomed faintly through the mist.
Somewhere inside was Ernst.
The man who had tried to poison him.
"Yaaaooong."
A mew came from his feet.
A black cat. Celine.
Blue eyes looked up at him.
He nodded slightly.
The cat leaped nimbly into the carriage.
"Whoa! A kitty! So soft... What a pretty cat..."
Lize lit up and scooped Celine into her arms.
Hard to tell if it was because the directive to treat Celine like a normal cat had worked, or if she just loved cats.
He boarded the carriage.
"We're ready to depart, young master."
The escort knight bowed from horseback.
Two escort knights assigned by Duke Walter. Their names... honestly, he couldn't remember.
Didn't care, either.
What mattered was that they were Expert-level fighters. And loyal to his father.
"Is that your cat, young master? I hadn't heard you kept one."
One knight asked. He was on the younger side. Curiosity colored his voice.
He stared fixedly at Celine, curled up in Lize's lap.
Blue eyes sparkled.
He took a small breath and answered.
"Father gave her to me."
"Ah..."
The knight's voice dropped.
No more questions.
He could see the knight's grip tighten on the reins. His posture straightened ever so slightly.
The other knight did the same.
Walter von Krushtein.
The Knight Slayer.
Even to loyal subordinates, that name inspired fear more than respect.
The carriage jolted into motion.
He gazed out the window.
The estate slowly receded.
"Now... you're really heading to the battlefield..."
Lize murmured softly.
Her hand stroking Celine trembled faintly.
"Yeah."
He leaned back.
The northern front.
7th Legion.
Ten-year-old commander.
An absurd situation.
But the water was already spilled.
"Yaong."
Celine shifted to his lap. Small and warm.
The road wasn't well-paved, so instead of reading, he told Lize various stories.
He'd already shared Romance of the Three Kingdoms multiple times, so this time it was different tales.
**
It was the third day.
As the carriage crested a hill, Lize froze, peering out the window.
"Young master... that..."
Smoke.
Black smoke rose beyond the horizon.
"Halt."
The carriage stopped.
One escort knight spurred his horse up the hill. When he returned, his face was grim.
"It's a village. Already burned."
"Survivors?"
"...None, it seems."
Celine leaped from his lap.
The black cat vanished soundlessly into the underbrush.
Scouting.
"We'll go around. Your safety comes first, young master."
"Wait."
He stepped down from the carriage.
"What are you—"
"Something I need to check."
He walked toward the burned village.
Lize hurried after him.
The village was... a wreck.
Houses reduced to charred frames. The ground was littered with chaotic hoofprints.
"Horse tribe... Probably Kuman raiders."
Lize murmured softly.
Spacing of the hoofprints. Size of the horses. Looting patterns.
Her eyes darted quickly.
"Over 50 riders. About two days ago..."
"How do you know?"
"Depth of the hoofprints... and the state of the charred wood."
Her observational skills were freakishly sharp.
He nodded.
"7th Legion territory?"
"Yes. One day's ride to the fortress from here."
A day's ride away, and over 50 horse tribe riders had torched a village.
And the legion hadn't stopped them.
Or perhaps...
had chosen not to.
"Young master."
Celine returned.
Something was in the cat's mouth.
An arrowhead.
Distinctive barbarian design.
"Yaong."
Celine dropped the arrowhead at his feet.
He picked it up and pocketed it.
"Let's go."
As he returned to the carriage, he thought.
7th Legion.
The situation was worse than expected.
**
The border fortress came into view.
Tall walls. Arrow slits everywhere. Flags fluttered in the wind.
As the carriage passed the main gate, a group of soldiers stood in formation.
A man stood before them.
Mid-forties. Short-cropped brown beard. Sharp eyes.
"Deputy Commander of the 7th Legion, Valerius. It's an honor to meet the legion commander."
He bowed at the waist.
Perfectly courteous posture.
He stepped down from the carriage.
Celine landed quietly at his feet in cat form. Valerius glanced at her briefly before turning back to him.
"You've had a hard journey, Deputy Commander."
"Not at all. This way, please."
Valerius led the way.
His pace was brisk.
An adult man's stride. Tough for a ten-year-old to match.
He had to trot to keep up.
Lize followed behind with the luggage, and Celine padded leisurely at his heels.
"Your quarters are this way, Commander. The ones General Gerhardt used."
"I see."
"The general was an excellent man. The entire legion mourns him."
Emotion laced Valerius's voice.
Sincere.
He had respected Gerhardt.
And he... was the ten-year-old who had taken that seat.
They passed down a corridor.
A few soldiers watched them.
Whispers drifted over.
"That's the new commander?"
"A ten-year-old?"
Valerius didn't hush them.
Didn't even pretend to hear.
He just strode silently ahead.
"Here we are."
The door opened.
Spacious room. Desk, chair, bed.
Fitting for a former legion commander's quarters—tidy.
But.
The bed was off.
One leg was broken. The bed tilted to one side.
The mattress was torn in places.
"...What's this?"
"Ah, we haven't finished preparing it yet. I called a carpenter, but he won't arrive until later today."
"I see."
"Oh, and one more thing."
"What?"
"There's a staff meeting tomorrow morning. You'll preside over it personally, Commander."
"Understood."
"All staff will attend. And..."
He paused briefly.
"We'll report on the legion's current status. Troops, supplies, overall operations."
"Good."
"However..."
Valerius's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Can I speak frankly, Commander?"
"Go ahead."
"The staff... have high expectations."
Expectations.
The nuance of the word felt off.
"What kind?"
"Of what a ten-year-old genius is like. What kind of command the strategist who annihilated 500 orcs will show."
A faint smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.
"Don't disappoint them."
The door closed.
Mockery.
Perfectly polite mockery.
"Sorry for the inconvenience. We'll take our leave."
The door shut.
Footsteps faded down the corridor.
He nearly sighed.
He knew he wouldn't be welcomed, but not to this extent.
Silence.
Lize set down the luggage and approached the bed.
She inspected the broken leg. Touched the torn mattress.
Then slowly turned.
"Young master."
"Yeah."
"It's a lie. Someone did this on purpose."
"I know."
Of course he knew.
But there was nothing to be done.
Making a fuss here would just make him look like a whiny kid throwing a tantrum.
But.
As he perched on the bed, he thought.
Those bastards didn't know a few things.
First.
He was the officially appointed legion commander.
Second.
His body might be a child's, but his mind was an adult's.
And finally, third.
When abilities are equal, the parachute drop is stronger.