Chapter 2
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Northernrocks (2)
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In the office where the fireplace crackled as it burned away, the commander entered, sat down comfortably, and turned to Luther.
"So, what kind of guy is this knight from the capital?"
"Lindelmann Zaroph. From what I've seen, he's from a decent enough family, knows how to use his head just enough, and has a moderate mix of naivety and ambition for advancement."
"Hm. In other words, he's averagely ordinary and easy to use. Still not bad, right? For a kid just barely over twenty to make it all the way here shows he's got some real grit by today's standards."
"He needs extra points to pass the Imperial Knight Exam. Plus, his background is a bit tangled. That's what makes him so easy to handle. So..."
Luther paused briefly before continuing in a low voice.
"Darlington definitely knows that and put the wind in his sails."
"Hmmm."
Darlington.
At the mention of that name, the commander's expression visibly hardened.
"Anyway, the good news is that thanks to his background, he has no faction ties and doesn't even realize he's being used. He's just the type eager to build connections everywhere."
"That figures."
"Yes. Volunteering for the escort duty is for the extra points, sure, but it's probably also because he wants to get on friendly terms with you, Your Excellency. Connections with someone of your stature are a huge boost for his career."
"Ho? But you're saying that won't be the case anymore?"
The commander smirked, but Luther replied without changing his expression.
"He doesn't know it now, but once he leaves the fortress, it won't be. And if I may say so myself, won't he regret it once he gets to know you better?"
"Haha! Maybe. Anyway, assuming that's the case... what if we win him over? Send him back to Alteria and use him as a spy."
"No, that won't work. Of course, if Your Excellency stepped in personally, we could sway him. But as I said, his brain only turns just enough for it to be obvious right away."
"True, having eyes on him would actually be much better for us..."
"Yes. And besides, there's Blake too."
Blake.
At that name, the commander's expression shifted slightly.
It was a look of trust, mixed with a hint of regret and reluctance.
"Still, sending him out alone bothers me a bit."
"That 'alone' is Blake."
"Fair enough."
A faint smile tugged at the commander's lips at Luther's unwavering response.
"For now, bring in that young Zaroph family knight. And Blake too."
"How is it? Is the lodging tolerable?"
"Yes! The spirit of the veteran knights who have guarded this great fortress at the forefront of His Majesty's domain..."
"Glad it's livable. Sit."
The quartermaster cut him off, and Lindelmann sat down with an awkward look on his face.
The welcome he'd hoped for had ended simply with a meal alongside the fortress knights.
Just when things were getting boring, the commander summoned him, so he couldn't help but have high expectations.
But as soon as Lindelmann sat, the commander pulled a bottle of liquor from his desk drawer and took a swig straight from it.
"Kuh! Care for a drink?"
The commander, his Adam's apple bobbing several times, offered the bottle. Lindelmann took it reflexively.
"Hm? Can't handle it?"
"N-no, sir."
Under the commander's piercing gaze, Lindelmann took a small sip.
Suddenly, a fireball erupted in his throat.
"Cough! Cough!"
"Hahaha!"
As Lindelmann coughed and his face turned beet red, the commander burst into laughter.
Luther, who had been silent until then, spoke in a flat tone.
"Northway liquor is a bit much for a capital guest. They prefer sweeter stuff back there..."
"It's fine, it's fine! Right?"
"Y-yes... cough!"
Lindelmann tried to force a smile at the commander's hearty laugh, but it was tough.
Even for Lindelmann, who wasn't bad with alcohol by any means, this was his first taste of something as brutally harsh as the local cold.
"You need this to beat the chill around here. Once you're used to it, just a couple sips will keep your belly warm for a good long while. But don't overdo it, or you'll end up a drunk like me."
"I see."
He didn't even want to look at another sip, much less take one, but the commander's subtle urging made him down another anyway.
"Well then..."
Finally, the conversation with the commander began.
Lindelmann had prepared for all sorts of questions from the commander.
Mostly about swordsmanship, tactics, and strategy.
If he impressed him, he might even score a letter of recommendation on the way back to the capital.
With escort mission points plus the commander's endorsement, passing the Imperial Knight Exam would be a sure thing.
'I have to make a good impression!'
Lindelmann steeled himself.
But...
The conversation veered in a direction utterly unlike what he'd imagined when entering the room.
Women and booze, women and booze, over and over.
At first, Lindelmann was flustered; midway, he grew tired; by the end, he was disappointed.
"So, among the Alteria ladies you know, who's got the hottest figure? Which salon is the hottest these days? Back when I stopped by briefly, the Silver Moon girls were pretty good. Oh, and their booze was top-notch too!"
The Northernrocks Fortress Commander he knew shouldn't be saying things like this.
A swordsman of transcendent skill, counted among the empire's top ten knights.
The undefeated general whose stratagems were said to reach the heavens, who had driven out the remnants of Kelkard—the Demon King or Rebel King—from imperial soil.
The loyal knight who had silently endured over ten years in this worst hellhole.
All those titles belonged to the man right before his eyes.
But the commander he saw and experienced today was far, far removed from those legends.
With weary eyes, flushed cheeks from the booze, and endless chatter about women and drink, he didn't seem like the pinnacle knight or legendary tactician.
He just looked like a typical middle-aged boozer knight in some city alley pub, living off past glories.
The greater Lindelmann's expectations, the deeper his disappointment.
'Well, stuck in a place like this for over ten years...'
"Been a while since I drank; feeling beat. Shall we call it? Ah, right."
As the commander stretched his arms with a grimace, something seemed to come to mind, and he turned to Lindelmann.
"When you head back to Alteria, go with one of my men."
"Who would that be...?"
Curiosity sparked in Lindelmann's eyes again.
A subordinate the commander mentioned personally had to be an important knight.
"No, he won't be my subordinate by then. He'll be discharged."
"Discharged? One of the soldiers, then?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
Lindelmann's curiosity faded at the nonchalant reply.
The soldiers at Northernrocks Fortress were obviously all vicious criminals like the ones he'd brought today.
"You don't mean I have to travel to Alteria with him..."
Lindelmann trailed off.
He wasn't set to inherit a title, but as a noble-born, entering the capital with a criminal convict would bruise his pride.
But the man before him held a position so exalted he could disregard the honor of Lindelmann and the entire Zaroph family without a second thought.
"Who knows? Even I don't know. Now that he's discharged, he can go wherever he wants. Just escort him as far as he can manage alone with money. Headgates should be fine. Up to you."
"Understood, sir."
"Alright, that's settled. I'll take my leave. Drank too much, maybe."
The commander replied indifferently to Lindelmann's relief, stood abruptly, and walked out.
Lindelmann watched the commander's staggering, drunken retreat with a mix of bewilderment, then turned and met Luther's gaze.
"Ahem!"
Feeling awkward, Lindelmann cleared his throat to break the tension and struck up a conversation.
"By the way, aren't there others who enlisted around the same time? Just one feels odd."
"Plenty enlisted at the same time."
"Then why... Ah!"
Lindelmann paused mid-question.
Luther had just used the past tense.
Which meant...
"Most of them died."
Lindelmann forced a smile to hide his fear.
"H-ha. Right. Anyway, serving a full ten years here? Impressive for a soldier."
"He's impressive, alright. But not a ten-year veteran."
Lindelmann felt more puzzled than annoyed by the usual curt tone.
"Pardon? The ones I brought today, and everyone at Northernrocks—they need ten years for pardon and discharge, right?"
"Yes. But he didn't serve ten years."
"What do you..."
"It's been fifteen years in our legion this year."
"Gasp!"
Lindelmann clamped his mouth shut in shock.
He was twenty-one.
That meant the discharged soldier had been in the army since Lindelmann was six.
And he wasn't a criminal either.
The commander's legion had come to the Northern Great Mountains ten years ago, and criminal convicts as reinforcements started the next year under pardon terms.
"Anyway, head out with him tomorrow. That's the plan."
"Y-yes, sir."
'Who the hell is he? Something feels off... Sigh.'
Unable to refuse, Lindelmann could only sigh inwardly.
"Deliver that letter. Hand it directly to the recipient. Confirm he reads it, then hear what he says."
"What about unexpected situations en route? Do we kill them all?"
The words came out so naturally, in a low, heavy voice devoid of any emotion.
"Haha! Well, I can't predict what might happen..."
The commander smiled faintly, then added as if it just occurred to him.
"Actually, for that, why not get advice or info from the capital knight you'll be traveling with?"
"The capital knight... you mean?"
"Yes. You'll be moving together at least to Headgates. Stick close as long as possible to gather whatever outside info you can. Prioritize delivering the letter on time, and handle the rest at your discretion."
"Understood."
"No ID papers, so use the letter as proof of identity. Reveal the recipient if needed, or let others see the contents—doesn't matter. But never lose it. Get it back and deliver no matter what. That's..."
The commander paused briefly, then continued with a faint smile.
"My final order to you as commander. After that, live free."
"Yes, Legion Commander."
"It's commander now. Whatever, doesn't matter anymore. You've done well all this time."
The commander patted the shoulder of the man before him.
The commander was tall, but this man towered a head above, standing silently with no reaction.
"Fourteen years this year?"
The commander gazed at him nostalgically, muttering to himself.
But the reply came from Luther at his side.
"Fifteen years now, by the count."
"Right. Fifteen... You've stuck around stubbornly forever. You're getting old, and so am I."
"..."
The commander addressed the man, but he stayed silent; Luther answered again.
"Not quite. Unlike Your Excellency, he's still under thirty—a young man."
"Is he?"
"You set his age at twelve when you first met. Twenty-seven now."
"Right. Yeah, that was it..."
The commander looked at him with distant eyes.
A lanky boy made taller and thinner, his eyes empty of emotion, face blank from whatever horrors he'd endured. For a moment, it overlapped with the man before him.
"Go on, Blake. No send-off when you leave."
A strange resonance filled the commander's voice as he named him.
"Yes, Legion Commander."
Blake replied in his usual flat, monotone voice and slowly raised his head.
"Commander."
The commander smiled and met his gaze.
Deep blue eyes like peering into an abyss.
A long scar across his prominent nose bridge paired with a frame over 190 centimeters, creating an intensity impossible to forget at a glance.
"Yeah, yeah..."
Locking eyes with those blue depths—cold beyond stillness, utterly emotionless—the commander nodded repeatedly and clapped Blake's shoulder.
"For the Empire and the legion."
Blake stepped back, saluted crisply, turned, and vanished outside.
His massive build made the room feel suddenly empty.
"..."
After Blake left, neither Luther nor the commander spoke for a while.
Clack.
A small sound broke the silence.
Luther turned toward it.
The commander stood staring at the chessboard.
Luther approached slowly and picked up a piece.
Clack.
"Worried?"
"Guess I'm getting old."
"The Pawn will live up to your expectations. Even if it's lingered long on the board, a Pawn's still a Pawn. Don't hesitate to sacrifice it. Pawns are most useful fulfilling their role."
Clack.
Luther moved his Pawn.
The commander watched briefly, then shoved it aside with his own piece.
"Like this?"
"Yes. That way..."
As Luther continued, he moved another piece.
A Knight leaped over the Pawn, capturing one of the commander's pieces deep in his territory.
"...you create an advantageous position."
"..."
The commander stared at the board without reply.
Moments later, ignoring the enemy Knight in his ranks, he picked up the first-moved Pawn again.
"But..."
Clack!
"If the Pawn can just reach the end of the board... who knows what might happen."
A lone black Pawn stood precariously amid a sea of white in enemy territory.
(To be continued in the next installment)