Chapter 22
Chapter 22
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: The General's Return
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The reason I hadn't set off right away was to time my entry into the castle for when confusion reached its peak, but it was also to give my subordinates advance notice so they could prepare.
The safest way to relay that information was with arrows.
"...They said you were going to be executed. Were you planning to go down fighting?"
"Just follow my lead."
The distance from the outpost to Zabrinsk Castle could be covered on horseback in a generous four hours round trip.
Josef must have handpicked them, because I approached the castle alongside archers marked in gray on my minimap.
Not aiming to hit anyone, I hid at a safe distance and fired only arrows with notes attached.
I checked the minimap to confirm they'd properly retrieved the arrows.
I'd already scoped out the status of the soldiers on the walls beforehand, spotting scattered green dots milling about.
After watching two green dots approach the arrow's location and then hurry back, I returned to the outpost and prepared the horse I'd be riding.
Preparation didn't amount to much.
I securely fastened a white flag to the saddle, signifying no intent to fight, and stripped off the empire's insignia and armor plating.
The pitch-black horse Josef had given me was impressively large, befitting a war steed, but surprisingly docile as it followed my commands.
I finished preparations before evening and retreated to the temporary tent assigned to me.
For the plan to succeed, I had plenty to mull over from here on out.
I left the tent in the early predawn hours, before the sun had risen.
Riding fast, it would take two hours, but since I planned to go leisurely, I needed to start early.
I did a final check of my preparations.
I saddled the horse and packed treats for it into the saddlebags for the journey.
I grabbed rations and made sure to fill my own stomach well.
To make it seem like I'd been treated well in the empire, I donned my uniform neatly and tidied my hair.
This plan went beyond securing the safety of my subordinates in the kingdom—it aimed to bring back those who would join my faction to the empire.
To do that, I needed to minimize resentment toward the empire to lower the bar for persuasion, and the easiest way was appearances.
Arriving in pristine condition would show that the empire's treatment hadn't been bad.
I mounted the war horse and departed the outpost.
I'd considered a carriage, but without a separate driver, riding in openly would look more confident and composed.
I kept the horse at a slow pace to avoid messing up my hair or clothes.
No immediate threats to my person seemed likely, so I pressed on while periodically checking the minimap.
Indeed, there were clusters of red dots patrolling around Zabrinsk like watchmen.
But they were too small—only three or four strong—and full of gaps, posing no real threat.
This was a good sign.
When hunting animals, it's common sense not to alert them with futile attempts before you're sure you can catch them.
The nobles, rich in purge experience, surely knew that.
These half-hearted threats were likely the independent moves of a few nobles.
If the entire nobility had resolved to kill me, they'd have used far more decisive methods.
-Crunch. Crunch.
"...Good boy."
To ensure the horse obeyed well, I fed it treats from time to time as we went.
It wasn't far, so within a few hours, Zabrinsk's walls came into view in the distance.
"Let's go."
People inside the castle could spot me now, so I adjusted my posture.
Back straight, gaze straight ahead but slightly upward.
Looking utterly relaxed, my right hand holding the reins draped naturally over my thigh.
But true to the 'Victor' who cherished his men and commanded fierce loyalty.
I needed to convey anticipation at seeing them again and sentiment for a homeland I thought I'd never return to.
Mouth firmly shut, but lips slightly curved, eyes softened.
Occasionally, I'd bring my free left hand to my face, wiping at my eyes and bowing my head just a bit.
I didn't forget to keep monitoring the minimap.
My response would depend on who gathered on the walls.
Moments later, the castle entered my minimap range.
"...Perfect."
It was filled with green dots.
Crowded thickly on the walls and right behind the gates.
In truth, I didn't even need the minimap—the walls were packed with soldiers visible to the naked eye.
The flags I glimpsed were those of the 1st Legion I'd once led.
The 1st Legion had always manned the main gate, but this blatant gathering meant the nobles hadn't fully gotten their hands on the army yet.
They wouldn't have ordered the 1st Legion—a force they'd feared my control over—to welcome me.
The 1st Legion soldiers spotted me too; the dots on my minimap began bustling.
Soldiers who'd been watching me hurried down from the walls, and over twice as many climbed back up.
"Victor! Victor! Victor!"
"General!"
As we drew close enough to make out faces, cheers erupted—more than I'd dared hope for.
The bigger the fuss over my arrival, the better, so I raised my left hand in response.
They were chanting my name.
If they knew my true intentions toward them, they wouldn't react this way, so this fervor bolstered my conviction.
The path I'd walked so far was the right one.
The gates opened, and soldiers bearing the 1st Legion's mark poured out.
After entering Zabrinsk Castle and dismounting, I was instantly surrounded by soldiers.
They kept a respectful distance, gazing at me silently with eyes brimming with expectation.
"...It's been a while."
"Waaaaah!"
A familiar-faced officer pushed through the cheering soldiers to approach me.
"General Victor...!"
"Boris."
Boris was one of the hundred soldiers who'd come to the capital with me, rising to officer rank through merits earned at my side.
That's why I recalled his name on sight, and surprised at being addressed by it, he stared at me wide-eyed for a moment.
"Ah... For now, let me guide you to the tent."
"Lead on."
Protocol called for going straight to the palace, but I had no intention of walking into the lion's den alone, so I followed Boris.
Besides, chatting with the soldiers first might provoke the nobles even more.
He took the lead, and the soldiers encircling me moved in formation alongside.
A few red dots trailed at a distance, but I pretended not to notice.
The camp looked almost unchanged from when I'd left.
We'd been prepping for counterattack then, stationed near the walls, and the soldiers still lived in those same temporary tents.
If the army was this intact, things might go even smoother than I'd thought.
Following Boris, we stopped before the general's tent—the same one I'd used.
Along the way, more soldiers had joined the procession, so by the time we halted, several hundred followed me.
"...We've been waiting."
Boris lifted the flap blocking the tent entrance and looked at me.
I entered slowly.
"Ah."
Inside, Anna sat at her station, waiting.
"Anna. Feels like ages."
"..."
She froze in place, lips twitching, eyes darting.
She'd always been reserved with emotions, so unlike the other soldiers, she didn't shout or react dramatically.
But a glance around the tent revealed how much she'd anticipated this.
Despite my long absence, no dust on my things, papers neatly stacked on the desk corner just as in my general days.
"..."
"Thanks, Anna."
"...Yes."
Her eyes were reddening, so to spare her embarrassment, I averted my gaze.
"...Then, General Victor."
Composing herself, Anna politely gestured toward her immaculately kept seat, inviting me to sit.
But the time wasn't right yet.
"Sorry, but..."
I dragged over a nearby chair and sat.
"I'm not back as a general of Ruth Kingdom. Just granted a brief visit."
"...Pardon?"
"The empire's emperor granted my request. Generously speaking... three to five days, maybe. After that, back to the empire."
"Ah..."
Of course, I had zero intention of simply going back.
I was still technically an imperial prisoner.
They'd let threats against me slide, forcing me into a 'decision.'
For now, my visit needed to seem purely sentimental.
Like a man dying soon, wishing one last look at his homeland.
Explaining my situation, Anna nodded gravely.
It might look like resignation at a glance, but she doesn't react so calmly to true defeat.
That nod meant she was ready to act the moment given a signal.
Turning my satisfaction at the buildup progressing as planned into genuine pleasure, I smiled naturally and spoke.
"Adjutant—no, Anna. Have you been well?"
"...No major issues."
"Good. I saw Boris earlier; he looked great. What of the others?"
"The rest..."
I listened intently to her report on the unit's current state.
"...It's odd."
"Hm."
Morale had dipped for various reasons, but no major changes, she said.
The nobles couldn't recklessly tamper with their lifeline on just a year's truce, so it was as expected.
"I'd like to see those faces again."
Now, time to openly provoke the nobles.
Under the pretext of reuniting with former subordinates, I'd tour the 1st Legion.
To noble eyes, it'd look like I was inspecting my power base right away.
"I'm no longer your superior, but might I trouble you for a guide?"
"You're always!"
She raised her voice, bothered by my wording.
"...You're always our general. Feel free to order us."
"Then, I request it."
"Understood."
She quickly lowered her voice, perhaps embarrassed, but I was pleased enough to just nod.
With Anna, I toured the camp.
Starting with those gathered near my tent, we sought out my former subordinates working throughout Zabrinsk Castle, chatting along the way.
Our conversations held nothing seditious.
"...Good."
"Pardon?"
"No, nothing."
The paranoid nobles would sense it differently.
I chatted with soldiers while noting red dots approaching and retreating.
"General!"
"General Victor...!"
...Trouble would strike at night anyway, so preparations could start in the evening.
I kept wandering and talking until sunset.
That evening, in a small conference room at Ruth Royal Guard headquarters.
"He came right in after all."
Count Mikhail Kapayev, Royal Guard Captain Andrei Komarov, and others.
Disappointed by the other nobles' lukewarm response, they'd gathered separately to exchange views.
"Those cowards' fault. A bit more force, and we could've chased him off before he even got a look."
"Blowing hot air the moment he arrives. Still thinks he's general?"
They'd wanted to block paths with troops immediately, but opposition limited them to a token force.
In Mikhail's view, Victor owed his safe entry to those nobles.
"...Damn it all!"
-Thud!
Mikhail vented on the innocent round table, scattering papers.
"I've said it over and over! Desk-jockeys are useless!"
Andrei shot to his feet in outrage too.
He'd reacted most furiously to news of Victor's survival.
Unable to forget the humiliation from his capture, Andrei yearned to lop off Victor's head now.
"If you don't want him resuming as supreme commander, move the Royal Guard now! Don't you know first strike wins?!"
Mobilize the Royal Guard.
The nobles, grasping the implication, flinched without immediate agreement.
"...Andrei. Are you certain?"
Tormented by fear from Victor on the battlefield, frustration and rage at the nobles, Mikhail seized the words.
Victor's influence wasn't limited to the 1st Legion.
The only troops movable unseen were the Royal Guard.
For their coup, Andrei's role leading it was pivotal, giving his voice near-equal to leader Mikhail's.
"Certain? The Royal Guard knows no failure. Past, present, or future."
Andrei swept back his glossy hair confidently.
"Preparations are complete. We could move tonight."
"...Very well."
With Mikhail and Andrei pushing hard, the others couldn't refuse despite sensing trouble.
Fear of Victor reclaiming the army, and it being too late to back out after mentioning operations.
They consoled themselves that Andrei's confidence had reason.
"Conveniently, Victor's staying on the camp outskirts."
"1st Legion guards change at 1 a.m. daily. Strike then?"
They built their plan on available intel.
"We need a place to hold him."
"Hold him...? Fine, got it."
Andrei feigned agreement with Mikhail's plan to detain and deport Victor, though unsatisfied.
Since he'd lead the on-site op, 'accidents' could happen easily.
"Execute at 1 a.m. tomorrow."
The brief meeting's outcome.
Plan to kidnap Victor using Andrei and a small Royal Guard contingent—Operation 'Return Sweep'—set for 1 a.m.
Nikolai Similoff had been quietly converting assets to precious metals since the Northern War broke out.
The rings he'd worn during negotiations were part of that.
Fearing those memories resurface, he'd sold them off; upon hearing Victor entered Zabrinsk, he met with other nobles.
Nikolai and a few others, each with grudges against Victor, gathered secretly.
They feared him but lacked courage to confront.
Their conclusion was simple.
"You too?"
"...Nothing matters more than life."
Flee.
These nobles craved wealth and glory, unburdened by family or grand ambitions.
Pack riches, escape Ruth Kingdom, avoid danger.
"How?"
"I have ties to the 4th Legion commander; I can convince him to open the rear gate briefly."
"Oh!"
"My house has carriages for trade; use those. Plenty of room for us and our wealth."
Plan formed swiftly.
Gather at Nikolai's mansion near the palace, exit via rear gate in carriages.
"Timing?"
"Need to ask Alexandrov, but late night minimizes eyes."
Alexandrov's reply came.
"1:20 a.m. is 4th Legion shift change; he'll open the rear then."
"...Good."
Considering time to load,
"Meet at Count Similoff's at 1 a.m. tomorrow."
Ironically.
Factoring load time, they set for 1 a.m. at Nikolai's.
After, Nikolai rushed home.
"Hurry, hurry..."
No family, servants not his concern.
Ruth Kingdom?
Its future hadn't mattered to him in ages.
Victor's glare still made his legs shake.
Imagining facing him again brought sweat to his palms, so he frantically shoveled hoarded wealth into sacks.
Then loaded the heavy sacks bulging with gold and metals onto carriages, anxiously awaiting 1 a.m.