Chapter 188: The Meaning of a Disposition (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 188: The Meaning of a Disposition (3)
Military tribunals are swift.
Evidence is analyzed in an instant, testimony is accepted or discarded in a flash, and under the guise of establishing military discipline, severe punishment is handed down without delay.
Drip. Drip.
Muddy water steadily dropped into the solitary cell.
Lieutenant Adel sat slumped on the cold, iron-barred floor. His heart was teetering on the edge of despair. His vacant eyes, having already resigned themselves to his fate, stared blankly into the damp air.
Clang! Clang, clang!
Suddenly, someone violently struck the iron bars. It was Bernhard. Adel hadn't known he was coming; he hadn't even realized the man was standing there.
“Well, look at this bastard. You going to lose all your hair from the stress?”
It was a blatant taunt, but Adel didn't even have the strength to reply. He simply hung his head low.
Bernhard stared down at him.
“…Hey. They say you’re to be executed.”
A rushed trial, without a single proper defense.
Perhaps his crime was being a commoner with no backing. Or perhaps it was the crime of realizing the ugly truth about his superiors. Or maybe it was simply because Sergeant Manuel, that bastard, had to go and die playing the useless hero…
A weak, pathetic thought bloomed in a corner of his mind. Adel bit his lip hard, as if to reprimand himself.
“…Fucking idiot.”
Squeeze. Bernhard gripped the iron bars fiercely.
“Hey.”
He glanced around the empty corridor, lowering his voice.
“Have you ever heard that saying?”
“...”
When Adel remained silent, Bernhard continued.
“Good soldier. Bad soldier.”
“...”
“Ah, you moron. What the hell are you thinking, not even opening your damn mouth? Seriously, fuck.”
Bernhard glared at the top of Adel’s head as if he wanted to stomp on it in sheer frustration. However, a trace of pity and genuine sympathy had already crept into his harsh gaze.
“Hey. You still trust that half-breed bastard? You frustrating son of a bitch.”
Adel’s shoulders flinched.
“We’re classmates. You fucking, idiotic classmate.”
Bernhard leaned in close to the bars and whispered.
“The petition you wrote. Do you know who intercepted it?”
Adel slowly raised his head to look at him. Reading the raw confusion and suspicion in his eyes, Bernhard let out a hollow laugh.
“You think it was me? You thought it was me, didn't you? Or what, someone else? Fuck, did you really think I was the one who snitched?”
Clang!
He kicked the iron bars with his heavy military boot.
“You dimwit, think about it! Who did you give it to?!”
“…What?”
“Who did you give that petition to, you moron?!”
Who… he gave it to?
Adel’s eyes finally snapped wide open. His breath caught in his throat, as if he’d just been struck on the back of the head.
“That’s right, you idiot. The bastard you handed it to with your own two hands is the one who snatched it.”
Bernhard’s face twisted into a vicious scowl as he spat out the words.
“Lieutenant Colonel Eaton. That bastard’s the mastermind.”
“What are you—”
“It’s not ‘what are you,’ just think! Stop believing only what you see. That’s the problem with you commoner bastards. You don’t know how terrifying the haves really are.”
The Eastern Borderlands were a remote, outlying region, far beyond the reach of the Imperial Central’s surveillance.
Conviction, principle, skill, character—you couldn’t survive by trusting in that crap alone. There was no such thing as faith or justice on this thin ice. You just died without a single soul ever knowing.
“Then…”
“Fuck, are you finally in the mood to listen?”
Confirming Adel’s frozen expression, Bernhard continued.
“Brigadier General Juken is already completely in Eaton’s pocket. Do you have any idea how much money that half-breed bastard’s family has?”
Bernhard glanced around once more, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
“I did some digging myself. That Juken guy, he’d even taken out private loans after some failed investments. Eaton paid it all off for him. Right now, it might look like they’re at odds, keeping each other in check, right?”
A good soldier and a bad soldier.
Colonel Juken willingly played the villain from above. In contrast, Eaton acted the part of the upright, noble soldier, deeply respected by his subordinates.
When Juken eventually retired, Eaton would naturally take over as brigade commander, climb even higher, and completely monopolize the Eastern cartels.
“…Classmate. You fucking… classmate.”
Bernhard leaned his forehead against the cold iron bars and sighed heavily.
“Ah, fuck. I figured it out too late. No wonder that half-breed bastard gave me a bad feeling from the moment I first saw him…”
Haaa. He ran a hand through his hair in deep frustration.
“For now, I’ll delay the execution as long as I can. So you just shut the fuck up and stay put. Don’t say anything. Keep your mouth shut just like you are now.”
Adel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He asked back in a trembling voice.
“…Why?”
The man helping him, his actions, his face—it was all completely baffling.
“What do you mean, why? Fuck!”
Bernhard started to shout, but then his lips faltered, and he averted his gaze.
“We’re classmates, you crazy bastard.”
The word ‘classmate.’ Adel stared up at him blankly.
“You stupid…”
Is loyalty, one’s true nature, something that only reveals itself when a person is at their absolute lowest?
Bernhard needlessly spat a few more harsh curses at Adel before turning away abruptly.
“I’m leaving. Remember. Keep your mouth shut.”
* * *
…However, their entire conversation was being broadcast elsewhere.
Tucked away in a corner of the cell.
Hidden in a dust-filled crevice.
A tiny receiver.
It gathered the frequencies of their voices using mana, converted them, and transmitted them directly to another device…
“Colonel.”
Eaton’s adjutant looked at him and spoke. Having just listened to the tearful display of friendship between the two classmates, Bernhard and Adel, Eaton tapped his desk with an utterly deadpan expression.
“What are your orders?”
“...”
Lieutenant Colonel Eaton was lost in thought for a moment.
That day.
The day Lieutenant Adel had identified ‘that transmission.’
The real reason Eaton himself had bothered to personally patrol the control room was to monitor for any potential information leaks.
Eaton’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Transfer him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bernhard came from a family with a highly respectable lineage in the military. There was no need to stir up unnecessary trouble by provoking a man like that. He could even let the insult of defying him slide, for the most part.
“However, there’s a rat who delivered this information to him.”
Eaton’s eyes glinted with cold killing intent.
“I suspect it was probably Goetz… that bastard.”
He clasped his hands together and gave a chilling command.
“Make sure he dies.”
“Yes, sir.”
The adjutant hurried out of the office, and Eaton leaned deep into his plush chair.
Click. Click. He lit a cigarette and held it between his lips.
“Haaa…”
Commoners were so incredibly easy to handle.
As long as you didn't curse at them, didn't act arrogant, and at least pretended to respect them on the surface, they would simply trust you and follow blindly.
Cigars, wine, whiskey, luxury accessories, extravagant entertainment—as long as you refrained from flaunting such visible, vulgar excesses in front of them, they would willingly put on a leash and become your loyal dogs.
Perhaps they even deluded themselves into thinking he was a person just like them.
It was a strange thing.
‘Being unable to’ and ‘choosing not to’ were qualitatively very different, after all.
“...”
Eaton rose from his chair and gazed down at the sprawling landscape of the Eastern front with deep-set eyes.
This place I’ve dedicated years of my life to, the 7th Brigade.
This place, where the stench of rotten mud wafts in daily and the heavy smell of machinery and oil hangs in the air, is my kingdom.
In these godforsaken mountains, I am the king, and no one can look down on me or insult me.
Therefore…
* * *
Imperial Central, Sentinel Knights Office.
[Brigadier General Juken]
[Colonel Michael]
[Lieutenant Colonel Eaton] [Lieutenant Colonel Johann] [Lieutenant Colonel Karl] [Lieutenant Colonel Goetz]
[Major Joachim] [Major Kenso…]
The staff officers had meticulously organized the intelligence on the Eastern Brigade and pinned it to a large corkboard.
“The current commander of the Eastern 7th Armored Grenadier Brigade is Brigadier General Juken.”
Brigadier General Juken. Before my regression, his military supply corruption was completely exposed, but far from being executed, he was merely forced into a quiet retirement. He probably lived a comfortable life until the Empire finally fell.
“And the person who delivered the petition to us is here.”
The staff officer pointed to a figure pinned near the bottom of the board.
“Major Joachim.”
Listening to the staff officer’s briefing, I mapped out the power structure of the Eastern Brigade in my head.
“According to Major Joachim’s testimony and rumors within the unit, the corruption of Brigadier General Juken’s faction is severe. The petition also captured hard evidence of this.”
The Juken line. No, almost the entire command structure of the Eastern 7th Brigade was likely rotten to the absolute core.
Stagnant water always rots. A closed organization like the military was inherently prone to it.
“Furthermore, there is a faction that opposes this Juken line.”
The staff officer pointed to a photo on the opposite side of the board.
“Eaton Weiss.”
I stared at his photograph.
A handsome, sharp-featured face. Two eyes gleaming with sharp intelligence. A face that advertised to anyone looking, I am a highly capable commander.
“He is the eldest son of the Weiss family. His paternal line is a historic noble family and a regional power in the Empire’s east, while his maternal side, through his grandfather, is a wealthy family from Zerpa.”
He was from the highest echelon of society, a perfect combination of wealth and honor.
But that was all he was.
“He has a widespread reputation among the soldiers as a very upright and incorruptible commander.”
I swallowed a bitter laugh internally.
Eaton Weiss.
The man was playing the part of an excellent soldier right now, but in the future, he would completely betray the Empire.
A traitor who would revive his Zerpa bloodline, attach himself to the Western Alliance, change his name to ‘Eaton Ashlyn,’ and serve as a general in the allied forces.
Even worse, after the war, he became an influential politician in the Republic, only to be brought down when his own corruption was finally exposed—a disgusting, irredeemable opportunist.
“And there are a few more individuals of interest. Lieutenant Bernhard. He is the third son of the Wallenstein family.”
Bernhard Wallenstein.
I knew the name well. He was an Imperial soldier to the bone.
During the Continental War before my regression, he achieved outstanding tactical results on the heavily disadvantaged Eastern front. Ultimately overwhelmed by the sheer disparity in forces, he refused to retreat and was killed in action.
“However, his current reputation among the soldiers is very poor, due to his characteristic aristocratic arrogance and verbal abuse. He was a military academy classmate of Lieutenant Adel, who is currently in the brig.”
Adel… honestly, I had no memory of him.
He probably died just like this. Swept under the rug.
“…An interesting story.”
I muttered, a corner of my mouth twisting into a cold smirk.
Memories of the past and the current situation overlapped strangely.
Ah, wondering how I know so much about this specific case?
Before my regression, I was the knight assigned to investigate this exact corruption scandal.
Back then, I was weak. Foolish. I didn't see through Eaton Weiss’s hypocrisy and wasn't strong enough to bring Juken to justice.
Instead, I was swayed by those around me, fell for Eaton’s sweet talk, and left Juken’s fate in the hands of the regular army.
I even praised Eaton’s character and recommended him to the high command.
A moron who failed to get to the bottom of the case.
That fucking moron was me.
Beep.
The staff officer’s terminal chimed briefly.
“Sir Knight. The transport plane is ready.”
I stood up without a second thought.
Now, it was time to prepare a new disposition.
The day to erase my past mistakes had finally come.
* * *
The East, 7th Armored Grenadier Brigade Headquarters, Commander’s Office.
“Lieutenant Bernhard. You are being transferred.”
Brigadier General Juken announced, casually tossing a document onto the desk. Behind Bernhard, Lieutenant Colonel Eaton Weiss stood with a stern, unreadable expression.
“…A transfer, sir?”
Bernhard clenched his fists, and Eaton spoke to him in a gentle, almost patronizing tone.
“Congratulations. Your new post is Imperial Central.”
The Central Regular Army. A post that every soldier bleeding on the frontier would devote their entire lives to reach.
“…Brigade Commander, sir, I—”
“I will not accept any objections.”
Juken cut him off sharply, sliding a letter across the mahogany desk.
The name written in the sender field was Bernhard’s eldest brother.
“Your brother said your father is quite angry as well. He retired early due to stress; a son shouldn’t be adding to it.”
Bernhard clenched his jaw tightly. A hard line formed under his chin.
He had volunteered for this barren Eastern front precisely because he was sick of his family’s suffocating influence and the constant meddling of his oh-so-great brothers.
“Why do you hang around with rootless commoner trash anyway?”
Juken tutted, lecturing him like a disobedient child.
“Just leave quietly. The unit is already in turmoil, and it’ll be a massive headache for me too if a scion of a prestigious family like you gets splattered with mud.”
“But, I—”
“If you have something to say, how about you say it to your father?”
Father. At that heavy word, Bernhard fell completely silent.
“Or perhaps you’ll tell Lieutenant Colonel Goetz?”
“...”
Goetz. The lieutenant colonel who had secretly passed him the information.
They know everything about me.
They know, and they’re still pulling this shit.
Bernhard’s broad shoulders slumped helplessly.
“If you understand, you may leave.”
Juken ordered again. Bernhard shot a hard, venomous glare at Eaton beside him, then turned and exited the office.
Thud.
“…Fucking idiot.”
As soon as the heavy door clicked shut, Juken snorted in derision.
“You’ve handled this well, Brigadier General.”
Lieutenant Colonel Eaton bowed his head respectfully.
“It’s nothing. It’s what a commander ought to do. Some worthless punk was acting up.”
A punk who got cocky relying on his flimsy family connections. He should be grateful on his knees that he was getting a promotion to Central with his life intact.
“What will you do about Lieutenant Adel’s case?”
“Proceed with it tonight. Let’s finish it before sunrise.”
“Yes, sir. I will take my leave, then.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go on. Get some rest.”
Lieutenant Colonel Eaton left the commander’s office. Brigadier General Juken sank deep into his plush leather chair, thoroughly satisfied.
He was humming happily, already imagining the fat deposit that would hit his offshore account this month, when—
Trrrriiiiing—!
The military direct line on his desk rang shrilly. It was a call from the command headquarters that oversaw the entire Eastern front—the absolute highest superior line.
“Yes. Allegiance. This is Juken, Commander of the 7th Brigade.”
Juken immediately sat bolt upright and snatched up the receiver. On the other end was Major General Caleb.
“Ah, Major General. What can I do for you? Hmm? The military tribunal, you ask? Haha, it’s nothing serious. Just a standard case of embezzlement of military supplies. Yes, yes.”
Juken answered glibly, trying to smoothly brush over the situation.
But from the other side of the receiver, the division commander’s words took a strange, terrifying turn.
“…Yes? Ah, I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can postpone the schedule. We’ve already secured all the evidence…”
Suddenly, the muscles in Juken’s face went completely rigid.
“Yes?”
The hand gripping the receiver began to tremble violently. His pupils dilated in sheer disbelief.
— …Brigadier General Juken. I am trying to tell you this as politely and calmly as I possibly can right now.
The voice leaking from the receiver, held askew against his ear, sounded like it was desperately suppressing an erupting volcano of rage.
— Halt the military tribunal and everything else right now.
“Ma-Major General, sir. What do you mean…”
— If you don't want to see both our heads roll, stop it right now, you goddamn imbecile!
A thunderous roar practically shattered his eardrum.
— Until ‘He’ arrives, just fucking breathe and do nothing—!
* * *
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
In the back seat of a military jeep speeding out of the brigade and toward the eastern city center, Bernhard spat out a continuous stream of harsh curses, glaring out the window.
“Watch your mouth,” Major Kenso, sitting in the driver’s seat, warned him.
The major had taken the wheel himself, just in case Bernhard tried to desert or disobey the strict transfer order from high command. A heavy transport truck full of fully armed soldiers followed closely behind their jeep.
“…But Major, sir. Aren’t those bastards following us from the 4th Platoon?”
“Yeah. They are.”
The platoon members who had been directly under Lieutenant Adel’s command.
Bernhard forcefully rolled down the window.
“Hey, you sons of bitches—! Do you bastards even have a fucking conscience?!”
He whipped his head around, screaming at the truck trailing them in the dark.
On this rotten, godforsaken Eastern front, there was no platoon leader who treated his soldiers as humanely as Adel had. He was a foolish, naive idiot who took on all the dirty work in the unit and would risk his own career just to protect his men from unfair treatment.
And yet, there were so many pieces of trash who had eagerly backstabbed a man like that just to suck up to Juken and Eaton.
“You bastards! I’m so fucking curious how much you got paid for selling out your platoon leader! So damn curious!”
“Hey. Watch your mouth,” Major Kenso warned again, his tone sharpening. “What do you mean, how much did they get? The entire unit suffered because of that bastard Adel’s embezzlement—oh, fuck!”
In that instant, Kenso wrenched the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes.
Screeeeeeech—! Hooooonk!
The heavy jeep came to a violent, screeching halt in the middle of the winding mountain pass. Hot steam hissed angrily from the engine and the fresh skid marks on the asphalt.
“Who the fuck is that bastard?!”
On the edge of the dark and silent night, someone was standing stock-still in the dead center of the road.
“—Hey!”
Major Kenso rolled down his window and bellowed into the dark.
“Who are you?! Don’t you know this is a restricted military zone?! You want to die?! Get out of the way, right now!”
The soldiers who had been following immediately jumped out of their transport truck and raised their rifles.
Clack!
The sharp, metallic sound of bolts being drawn cut cleanly through the night air. But the lone man blocking the road didn’t even flinch.
He just stood there in absolute silence, holding his ground like an immovable mountain.
“Does he really want to die? Hey! Prepare to fire!”
Click—!
Dozens of soldiers aimed their rifles directly at him.
“Unauthorized entry into a military zone is subject to summary execution! This is your last warning!”
The exact moment that shout echoed through the mountainside…
The sky, which had been heavily obscured by dark clouds, slowly cleared, revealing a brilliant full moon. A shower of pale light poured down through the rustling leaves, illuminating the figure on the road.
“…?”
Golden hair, scattering brilliantly in the moonlight. Beneath it, cold, golden eyes cast in deep shadow. On the lonely mountain path, a striking navy uniform wrapped around his entire body.
“Ah…”
Major Kenso’s jaw dropped slack. Bernhard’s eyes flew wide open in shock. The soldiers aiming their rifles froze exactly as they were.
Not a single person dared to make a sound.
A heavy, suffocating silence settled over the space.
Whoooosh…
As the night wind howled through the trees, every face in the convoy froze in absolute terror.