Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: A Drink with Million
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“Have a drink.”
Steam rose from the liquor Million poured into the glass. Andun. Those who had fought there would never forget it.
“Do you remember what I said to you, Captain, on the day of Naria’s funeral?”
“I remember.”
Live on, he had shouted, gripping his shoulder with thick hands.
When Million, who valued military etiquette more than anyone, suddenly grabbed his shoulder, those who knew him well were more shocked than if they had heard news of war.
“About a year after Naria’s funeral, with no word from you, I thought you had overcome it. But not long after, instead of an imperial hero’s retirement ceremony, we had to watch your state funeral.”
Million downed the liquor in his glass in one gulp.
“Care to explain?”
He wet his throat with liquor like Million, then opened his mouth. About the life that had lost all meaning after his wife’s funeral. And about his wife’s diary.
“I didn’t want to do anything. But there were things I had to do. It’s funny even saying it. Even in that depression where I couldn’t lift a finger, I took care of what needed doing.”
He held out his empty glass. Watching the liquor pour into it, he continued.
“That’s just how I’m built. A half-hearted bastard who can’t even grieve properly or shake it off. If I’d just died, it would’ve been easier, but somehow I kept forcing down food, sleeping, and living. Like that, I spent a year in the Holy City tying up all loose ends and held my own funeral.”
“Are you wandering around looking for a place to die?”
“Who knows. I can’t say. It’s just a vague hope that something might change if I go to my wife’s hometown.”
“If you truly wanted to die, Captain, you would’ve slit your throat without hesitation. Since you didn’t, you held a funeral without a body and kept on living.”
“Maybe, like you say, I’m just unwilling to die and looking for excuses. Maybe I value my own life more than anyone without realizing it. And my wife’s diary is just a pretext.”
“I don’t think so.”
Million stared straight at him with his one good eye.
“If you were the type to only care about your own neck, would all those people have followed you?”
“Flattery won’t get you anything from me now.”
“When did I ever have anything to give? And I’m not one for empty words. You know that best.”
“True. You were that kind of subordinate.”
He pulled his wife’s diary from his bosom. The closer he got to his destination, the heavier the diary seemed to feel.
What should I do once I arrive in her hometown?
“Honey?”
The woman who appeared through the back door looked cautiously back and forth between Million and him.
“I told you there’s no need to come out.”
Million rose from his seat and approached her. The heavily pregnant woman offered him a careful greeting.
Lander stood and returned the greeting politely.
“This is my wife. And that gentleman is…”
Instead of Million, who trailed off, he spoke up.
“I’m Lander. I worked with your husband long ago.”
“I see. I’m Ena, his wife.”
Ena introduced herself with a slightly relieved expression.
“You must be in the middle of a conversation. I’ll leave you to it.”
Ena exited through the door Million held open. Before it closed, she greeted him once more.
“Congratulations.”
Lander said. Million returned to his seat with a slightly embarrassed smile.
Million, usually like a plaster statue, smiling so brightly. It was unimaginable in the military.
“It’s a late child. We’d half-given up on having one, but it happened. They say children are God’s will, and it seems true.”
“Hope the baby takes after its mother.”
“I pray for that every night. One of me is enough.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Doesn’t matter. We make enough to live comfortably. I won’t make the kid work, so boy or girl, just healthy.”
“With your blood, it’ll be tough as nails health-wise.”
Million lightly smiled, touching the scarred skin around his left eye. Recalling the old days, he asked.
“No more pain?”
“No. It’s ugly to look at, but it doesn’t hurt. I cover it normally, so no issue.”
“And your leg?”
“Much better. Occasional phantom pains, but nothing serious. Compared to before, it’s as good as gone.”
“Good to hear.”
Million’s cooking was so exceptional that people often joked he should be in the rear kitchen corps. But he had an even greater talent.
Hunting skills. Assignment to the ‘4th Independent Unit’s Magical Beast Division,’ a special military outfit, was a natural progression.
“Do you resent me?”
He had held personnel authority back then. It was his decision to attach Million exclusively to him.
They needed capable talent. The more skilled, the higher the survival rate against Magical Beasts.
“I was the one happy about the higher pay. Every operation has risks, and overcoming them is personal ability. I was lacking, and at that lacking moment, I was unlucky too.”
Million glanced around the shop interior and continued.
“Thanks to that, I got this place and met my wife. If you hadn’t cut my leg perfectly that day, I wouldn’t have survived. The rear medics said the same. If it hadn’t been near-perfect, they’d have had to amputate from the waist down.”
“I could only do so much.”
Within reach of his hands, within the domain of his sword, he was confident he could protect everything. But people had limits to what they could do alone.
In the end, his subordinates’ sacrifices were inevitable. He’d believed they could handle it, so he put them at the vanguard, and this was the result.
The subordinate who could no longer live as a soldier left the military with severance.
Seeing that old subordinate who had come from afar on the day of his wife’s funeral, he felt grateful yet sorry.
“Who was that guy earlier? The kid I’ve seen around the neighborhood a few times.”
“Something like a travel companion I picked up along the way. Ended up sticking together.”
“That’s a relief.”
“What’s relieving about it?”
“Having someone by your side puts my mind at ease. If dangerous thoughts come, they might stop you.”
“How long do you think it’d take me to slit my own throat?”
“Instant.”
“You think someone else could stop it?”
“Better than no one.”
Million said it with a blank face.
“Just occurred to me—surely you don’t talk to your wife with that icy expression?”
“Ena says my face is cute.”
“A saint she is.”
“That’s why she married me.”
Million shook the dented metal keg side to side. Looked like the liquor was gone.
“More?”
“No, this is enough. You’ve got shop prep to do. Time to stop entertaining the dead.”
He pocketed the diary and stood. His subordinate had carved out a new life in a new place.
No point in a ghost poking around.
“Captain.”
“Yeah?”
“The baby will be really pretty.”
“Probably.”
“Come see it.”
“What good would it do for the kid to see someone like me? It needs to grow up seeing only good things.”
“Still, come. You must. I’ll tell the baby an important guest is coming to see you. I still remember your iron rule: Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and keep the ones you make.”
“I never said I’d come.”
“I won’t ask your permission. If you don’t want the baby crying in disappointment, come back. By then, I’ll have food more to your taste. I’ll make you that boar stew you liked.”
“Marriage changed you. You used to never say more than two words.”
“Everyone changes. That’s how we live. So live on, Captain.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Before leaving, he asked one last thing.
“No troubles making ends meet?”
“Nothing major.”
“Your wife didn’t look too happy. She was wary when she first saw me, like unwelcome guests come by often?”
“Dealing with nobles brings issues. But nothing to worry about.”
“If you say so.”
Lander offered his old subordinate a handshake. The hand he gripped after so long was as rough as when it held weapons. Front lines or kitchen, both were battlefields.
“They say if a maestro chef emerges, this place’s head cook is top contender. Just need to get more famous.”
“Far off. Much to learn. But now I wonder—what do you think, maestro recognized by imperial knights? Can I claim that title?”
“If you want it, you can. You always pushed one step beyond your limits.”
He felt strength in the gripped hand. Like a silent vow to succeed.
“Take care. Give my regards to your wife.”
“I’ll be waiting. Come when the trip’s over.”
“Don’t wait for the dead—look after the living.”
“You’re still alive, Captain.”
He released the hand and turned. Maybe because he’d confirmed his cherished subordinate was doing well—his steps felt a bit lighter.
At the same time, thoughts of old comrades surfaced. He’d forgotten them since his wife’s death. But he wasn’t worried. They were tough ones. Thriving even at the bottom of hell.
He opened the door and stepped out. A sign read “Closed for Ingredient Prep.” As he passed it to leave the front yard.
A server who followed called out “Sir!”
“The chef said to give you this…”
The server, panting from rushing, bowed and retreated.
He untied the cloth. Inside was salted and dried fish. His go-to drinking snack.
“Of all things.”
He smirked, popping a shredded piece into his mouth. Same taste as ever.
Slightly fishy at first, then nutty as you chewed. The taste of cheap bar snacks that dredged up memories.
“Over there.”
A group of men passed by him as he chewed the dried fish. Leading them was the noble who’d argued with the server earlier. Beside him, a man wearing imperial official insignia.
He watched the group head into the shop. Fidgeting with the gift in his hand.
(To be continued)