Chapter 54
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Unexpected Things Keep Happening
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After parting ways with Richi Reinhardt, Frigia wandered blankly along the main street.
Get it together, get it together, she muttered to herself inwardly, but his words from earlier kept resurfacing.
“Please do your best wherever you are stationed, Frigia. That's all I ask. So that... so that more people can make it home alive.”
That was the response she'd received to words of genuine gratitude.
An unexpected yet somehow perfectly natural plea: to work hard so that more people could return home alive. And that's precisely why it lingered so deeply in her heart.
“Is the talk over?”
The Navy Marshal McRaven, walking quietly alongside his daughter, spoke up casually from across the way.
“Yes, Marshal Excellency. Thank you for your consideration.”
At Frigia's reply, the Navy Marshal's face twisted in an odd expression.
He still couldn't fathom what was going through his fourth daughter's head.
So stiff. So rigid. This was taking it too far. He himself, and even his wife—her mother—were as free-spirited as any seafarer. All the other children reeked of their parents' wild streak.
Only the fourth daughter, Frigia over there, spoke, acted, and carried herself like that.
Isn't her maturity a good thing? Not at all. It was driving him to the brink of bursting with frustration.
Look at her now. It was his duty hours, so she wasn't calling him 'Father' but 'Marshal Excellency.'
“...You're on leave, so you don't have to call me so formally.”
“Even on leave, you're still on duty...”
“Frigia.”
At the Navy Marshal's words, Frigia dipped her head slightly and replied that she understood.
At least she listened. What would he have done if she were completely stubborn?
“What did the kid say? Did he spout some nonsense to you too? Something like not wanting to talk to a seal, or that the medal was enough without all this fuss. Along those lines.”
“Nothing like that at all.”
Frigia repeated verbatim what she'd heard to her father.
If you're truly grateful, then work to bring more people home alive. It was the ideal response both as someone receiving thanks and as an officer.
“He was an outstanding soldier. Richi Reinhardt, was it? His future looks incredibly promising.”
Soldier. Outstanding soldier. The Navy Marshal unwittingly smacked his lips.
His daughter was right. Yes, that kid would surely grow into someone remarkable.
You could tell at a glance. There's something called experience. And by that measure, this Richi was cut out for the military in his eyes—he had to be a soldier.
If he'd been his son, he'd have nailed him down as a Navy officer on the spot.
He'd earn his keep anywhere, but it was clear: Richi was the type to spread his wings not in frontline command, but in some other field.
What a shame that Army Marshal Reinhardt had snatched him up as his son.
A talent like that should've come to the Navy, which was relatively short on manpower. Should he try persuading him even now?
Slap the Navy Marshal's cheeks twenty times and overlook it in exchange for a signed Navy enlistment form...
“And he's a really good person too.”
“Frigia?”
“You know it too, Father, but the higher you climb, the more lives become numbers, and the numbers grow thicker. When I heard seven sailors had died in that battle, I felt relieved. Ah, only seven died. What a relief.”
The Navy Marshal let out an incredulous sigh at that.
“You're stating the obvious. We don't have time to mourn each individual life. Getting bogged down in that just means losing more next time. We can't be indifferent, but we have to become numb. At least appear that way.”
“I know that full well. I know it's our fate, and I'm confident I can keep it up. That's why I was so impressed by someone who still cares about those lives.”
The Navy Marshal clicked his tongue and muttered, “Enough already, enough.”
Richi had said it himself. There were marriage talks in the works. With the Victory Duke's family, no less.
Ariete Clozen, was it? Yes, that was the name.
He'd heard of Ariete too. The Victory Duke's beloved youngest daughter? He'd caught word that she'd earned some solid merits in the recent Koenihesen assault.
Talks with a powerhouse like that weren't just casual exchanges.
The family heads and matriarchs had likely wrapped up most of the discussions already. And the parties involved probably weren't entirely opposed either.
Yet here was his daughter suddenly showing peculiar interest in Richi amid all that.
He'd never quite understood his fourth daughter's thoughts before, but this time, he wanted to put a stop to it.
It could complicate ties with the Victory Duke, and above all, it was a Reinhardt.
“What's so great about that land grub? Drop it, Frigia.”
As he scolded his daughter and moved to suggest heading back,
“Do you really think Richi Reinhardt will end up as just some land grub?”
“...”
A sharp question. And the answer? The Navy Marshal already knew it.
Absolutely not. Just look at his achievements this time—you can see exactly where and how he'll shine next.
Koenihesen's grand offensive was over. Now it was the Empire's turn to strike back with vengeance.
For that, they'd need immense supply capabilities—not just before the offensive, but right in the thick of it.
Unprecedented compared to before. Koenihesen had set the precedent, hadn't they?
They'd hammered the Imperial forces with overwhelming combat power, punching through the entire front line. But lacking staying power, they failed to breach the second defensive line.
What followed was predictable: the Imperial counterattack, forcing them to grit their teeth and retreat.
Thanks to that, the Empire now knew. To end this interminable war, they'd have to plant their flag on enemy soil—and current logistics made it impossible.
This was a golden opportunity. Strike while Koenihesen caught its breath.
That made it all the more critical. Massive armies, mandatory reserves behind them, replacements to fill gaps, plans and funds to train them, supplies to clothe and feed every soldier, weapons to arm them, transport to deliver it all.
And that was just the Army. Factor in the Navy, and it ballooned further.
This wasn't like before. They'd need vastly more—overwhelmingly more—logistical power.
No way that's handled by some ministry department.
Navy Marshal McRaven had a rough idea already.
Logistics would be spun off into a massive new organization. They'd gather every talent needed to run it flawlessly, without a single hitch.
The moment supplies faltered, offensives and counterattacks alike would crumble. Obvious, really.
And Richi Reinhardt had proven himself, even on a smaller scale.
Thanks to him, another Army war hero—Erwin—had emerged. No matter how elusive a field commander, they couldn't hold without support from the pen-pushers handling paperwork behind the lines.
“End as a land grub? Of course not. They won't hand him a top post right away, but mid-level for sure. And from there... he'll climb steadily.”
Officers vs. knights, Army vs. Navy—this pride war drove most officers to crave the front lines. Meaning, those stuck in the rear lacked a strong rallying figure.
They had talent but lacked will and clear vision.
Slot in a Reinhardt man there. The grandson of the Empire's one-and-only Field Marshal, son of the current Allied Forces Supreme Commander. The message was crystal clear.
Logistics was about to get huge—and untouchable.
“Getting close to him wouldn't be a bad thing. That's what I think.”
“Frigia.”
“It's not about logic. I just like that I met a good comrade who doesn't get lost in the numbers. That's all.”
That's exactly the problem, Frigia. Navy Marshal McRaven sighed inwardly with a groan.
*
“Enter. Come home this weekend.”
...What could my parents want all of a sudden? This was rare. I'd visited after surviving Koenihesen's grand offensive, so why now?
Ah, maybe they wanted to ask about that favor Richi requested? But if so, a magic communicator would've sufficed. Why summon me?
The answer came the moment I stepped into the house.
“Big brother!”
I'd forgotten. When I returned home, Marie had been off at the hot springs tending to her health.
That's why we hadn't even exchanged greetings face-to-face.
Yeah, she wasn't my real sister, but I'd doted on her more than one, so of course she'd react like—
“How's Richi brother?! Is Richi brother okay?!”
“...”
It was about Richi, not me. This big brother feels so forlorn...