Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Humanity Beneath the Hero
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Ruth Kingdom prisoners never seemed to care that they were captives of an enemy nation. Most of them were rude and utterly unrestrained.
Especially the ones from noble backgrounds.
They loved to go on about how prominent they were back in Ruth Kingdom and how insignificant the Empire truly was.
Then, when death loomed near, they spilled every scrap of information they knew, pathetically begging for their lives by offering up their family's wealth. "We've got plenty of money—just send me back, and it'll be yours."
Such intelligence was usually worthless, but in hopes that these incompetents might return as commanders and bungle things again, Imperial officers would ransom most noble prisoners and set them free.
And indeed, those released did return to command and repeat their mistakes—until Victor seized control. Up to that point, it had been a resounding success.
That was the typical vibe with Kingdom prisoners, so when Victor responded at first, I figured he'd play right into my expectations.
Getting the existing prisoners to even open their mouths had been tough, but Victor—despite his intimidating aura—readily agreed to talk.
I planned to collect information per His Majesty's orders and, as a bonus, satisfy a bit of my personal curiosity.
After all, the rumors about Victor had piqued my interest.
So I approached him with full confidence.
"Hng..."
But the outcome was completely out of left field.
I clenched my teeth tight, terrified that even a slight relaxation would let the tears spill over.
This wasn't the response I'd anticipated.
I knew he wouldn't openly brag in a situation like this—bad circumstances, sour mood.
Still, I expected some feigned reluctance, a bit of false modesty to subtly show off his achievements.
Regardless of Victor's image so far, every high-ranking officer I'd met acted that way.
Even General Gerhard, always brimming with passion, and the various officers or knight commanders I'd encountered.
Heck, even officers from other nations.
Once you brought up battles they'd fought in, they'd light up and ramble on excitedly.
And their very first official battle? They went all out.
Starting with praising the enemy they'd faced, then laying out the backstory before boasting about their brilliant strategies and tactics, and how glorious the victory was.
They'd trumpet enemy casualties or troop disparities but never mention their own side's losses. Of course.
It was like they treated battles as fond memories. Every conversation with them left me with an indescribable feeling.
Something just rubbed me the wrong way.
I couldn't quite pinpoint it, and it felt wrong to voice it aloud, so I'd swallowed it down until now.
Listening to Victor finally revealed the source of that unease.
Not a single one of them had ever mentioned their fallen comrades first.
At best, some would gloss over it with "alongside glorious sacrifices..." but even that was rare.
I figured Victor would be the same.
He'd pushed the King into war using soldiers' blood as an excuse, after all. No way he'd break the mold of a high officer.
I thought his war-mad passion had earned him massive achievements at such a young age.
I thought his love for the Kingdom drove him to command forces diligently, sometimes charging into the fray himself.
Like other soldiers, I assumed death on the battlefield was just glory to him—no fear of "sacrifice," no real concern.
The opposite was true.
Victor's mindset aligned more with regular soldiers than officers.
Doubts about war itself, guilt toward the dead, a heavy sense of responsibility.
When he spoke of his monumental first battle—the Battle of Angelgorod.
He didn't start with victory.
He didn't recall the fleeing Imperial forces, mention the enemy commander, or tout his tactics.
Without hesitation, he recited the names of those who'd departed.
This was over two years ago.
He hadn't just commanded a mere hundred men; afterward, he'd led thousands, tens of thousands.
Yet he still remembered the names and stories of those lost in his debut battle.
He spoke calmly, in measured tones, but sorrow lingered visibly in his eyes.
At least, the Imperial Officer Academy teaches none of that.
Going to war is glorious; death is honorable. That's the glorification.
They focus on victorious campaigns, well-fought battles, insisting the weak can't be generals and urging emotional detachment.
Soldiers become mere numbers, tools for efficient handling.
Ruth Kingdom's Officer Academy must be the same.
Cadets deviating from expectations would face internal backlash.
Coward, heartless—insults like that.
He'd even clashed with others there, as he admitted.
The key point: Victor proved he was different.
He wasn't weak.
Defying the notion that generals must be cold, distant from troops, focused solely on strategy and tactics—he became Ruth Kingdom's hero.
Transforming guilt over fallen comrades into responsibility, he commanded the battlefield more perfectly than anyone.
As a result, he's dubbed Invincible, his legion earning the moniker Undying Legion for its extraordinarily low casualties.
Honestly, up until facing him now—no, until I'd prodded him about battles—he'd seemed utterly fearless.
Even surrounded by Royal Guards come to arrest him, with dozens of nobles and the King staring him down, he held his poise.
To ensure his men could trust and follow him, he'd buried those thoughts deep inside.
Imperial reports hunting for weaknesses called him "flawless."
If he hadn't been betrayed by Ruth's King, he probably wouldn't have opened up to me like this.
"..."
Strangely enough.
Seeing this side of him only heightens my interest.
He'd felt distant before.
General Gerhard was respectable, of course, but I never wanted personal closeness.
Her Majesty Luise was merely an object of loyalty.
I held no more than admiration for Victor.
Amazement at his competence, awe at his strategies and tactics.
Now it's different.
I finally understand why he commands the unwavering support of Ruth Kingdom's forces.
After hearing his story, I even thought—if I were a soldier, I'd want to serve under him.
I want to talk more.
Personal matters, work matters.
But with Victor closing his eyes, signaling no more conversation, jumping in now would be tough.
...His nation discarded him like yesterday's trash, so his mind must be a whirlwind.
No matter how curious I am, pressing him would be rude.
Maybe I should just be grateful he shared what he did.
-Scratch, scratch.
I pulled out my notebook and jotted down our exchange.
The pen tip trembled slightly as I wrote.
---
Something about Erika's gaze had felt warmer lately.
And,
"...Victor."
"...?"
Suddenly, Paul—who'd been silent the whole time—spoke up.
He'd seemed lost in thought while Erika and I talked.
"You're... peculiar."
"..."
Out of nowhere, he said something weird.
Checking just in case, my minimap showed Paul in gray.
What the hell?
What in my story made his murderous intent vanish?
What was he thinking?
"Right?"
"Mm."
Erika and Paul exchanged looks and nodded to each other.
I couldn't make sense of it, so I just closed my eyes.
"...Must be a lot on your mind. Get some rest."
Unaware he'd muddled my head, Paul puffed up a bit and turned back to the window.
"We've arrived."
The carriage halted as the sun dipped low.
Through the window, I saw tents fluttering with Imperial flags.
Inside the camp, soldiers bustled about pitching tents and shifting supplies.
The move had taken longer than expected, but it seemed the Empire had preemptively shifted its garrison rearward before the ceasefire was signed.
Hearing the war was on hold, the working troops looked cheerful.
Sentries chatted casually with comrades beside them, and overseeing officers didn't bother stopping them.
It contrasted sharply with Ruth Kingdom soldiers, who maintained vigilant stares until our carriage departed.
Seeing the Empire's troops—their uniforms, gear, tent styles all so different—finally drove home that I'd been handed over.
From here to the Emperor, nothing major should go wrong.
The last wildcard, Paul, had swung neutral. Barring some freak accident, my life wasn't at risk.
I leisurely took in the Empire's forces—my future comrades—while envisioning the rosy path ahead.