Northward - 3

The last day of the first semester. Before the closing ceremony had even begun, I found myself summoned to the principal's office first thing in the morning.

"The departure ceremony is only a few days away, I hear."

"Yes. All that remains is His Majesty's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠formal command."

I nodded at the principal's matter-of-fact tone.

The Northern Army had already assembled, leaving only the bare minimum of troops needed for public order. Three corps from the Western Army had arrived in the Hablem Duchy. The Central Army's corps and private forces from across the empire had gathered at the assembly points designated by the Emperor. All that was left was the official departure.

"To have another war before the wounds of the last one have even fully healed. It is a sorrowful thing."

The principal let out a small sigh, his expression unmistakably bitter.

One might assume that a principal who never left the Academy had little connection to this war, yet he was once a great mage who had served with distinction in the military, and an educator who had taught countless students. His juniors and former pupils would soon march off to fight; of course his heart could not be at ease.

"If it were up to me, I would return to military service this very day. If this old man can still be of some use, even a few more of the young ones might come home alive."

In truth, not long after the mobilization order went out, the principal had submitted his resignation to the Minister of Education—for exactly the reason he had just given: that an old man should step forward so the young might sacrifice less.

Naturally, the resignation had been rejected. Sending a man who had already devoted his youth to the empire, and who now nurtured its future, straight back into a war was simply unthinkable. Besides, having a retired elder rejoin active campaigning would reflect poorly on the empire's dignity.

"The military already has plenty of seasoned generals to lead the young soldiers. Many of them lived through the last war as well. I understand your concern, but try not to take it too much to heart."

I offered him what comfort I could. I knew how he must feel after losing so many juniors and students in the Great Subjugation War, yet his duty now was that of an educator. Trying to step outside that role would only exhaust everyone involved and create unnecessary headaches.

"Yes… you are right, of course. The Audit Department Chief speaks wisely."

The principal nodded. He had probably only wanted to vent his frustration; acknowledging it and moving on was enough. After having his resignation rejected, what else could he do but complain a little?

All he could do was hope that the people he had met across his long life would not fall in vain.

"Please take care of yourself as well, Chief. It is hard to imagine you ever being wounded, yet war is a place where anything can happen."

"Thank you for the advice."

I answered with a faint smile. I, too, was one of the connections he had made. Spending a year and a half working side by side was no small bond.

Unfortunately, I now had to deliver news that felt a little awkward to share with someone who was worrying about me.

"By the way, I received word from the Ministry of Finance yesterday. If the war drags on or anything happens to me, the First Division Chief will come to the Academy as my replacement inspector."

The principal visibly flinched. Replacing the inspector he had only just grown used to was already a problem; that the replacement would be the First Division Chief—the one in charge of interrogations—must have made his head spin.

Still, there was no helping it. To fill my absence properly would require another department chief or the minister himself, neither of which was possible. So they were sending the First Division Chief, who at least had some connection to my fiancées and the club members.

"An Academy graduate returning as an inspector… that will be a novel experience."

"Haha, I suppose it will."

I could almost see the First Division Chief's school days flashing rapidly through the principal's mind, but I chose not to dwell on it.

"If the First Division Chief does end up coming, I will speak to her properly beforehand. Even in wartime, basic correspondence should still be possible."

Of course the ideal outcome would be for the war to end during the vacation, but the last one had dragged on for two years. I could not make any promises that would raise false hopes. Better to treat the First Division Chief's temporary posting as a given.

The moment the closing ceremony ended, I found myself completely surrounded.

"Karl, you absolutely have to take care of yourself. Don't overdo it, eat your meals on time… and… and what else is there?"

"Sleep properly as well."

"Ah, right. Sleep is important too."

My fiancées and club members were about to return home. I, however, was heading not home but to the battlefield, and so I was being buried under every possible worry and word of encouragement.

Yet the way they fretted over me felt strangely familiar. This was exactly how a mother fussed over her child.

"I do take good care of myself, so please don't worry."

Since their concern was genuine, I answered as brightly as I could. We would not see each other again until the war was over; there was no need to darken the mood with a gloomy face and make them worry even more—

"And yet you were walking around with those scars?"

"We agreed we wouldn't bring that up anymore…"

Irina's straight pitch right into my solar plexus nearly left me speechless. Bringing that up at this particular moment was foul play.

Still, seeing the tears welling in her eyes made me lower my head on instinct. Perhaps the real foul play was not Irina mentioning the scars, but me for having them in the first place. I should reflect on that.

"…The scars that are already there can't be helped, but you must not come back with new ones. Understood?"

"Of course."

I nodded hurriedly at her slightly watery words.

Those scars existed because of Kagan in the first place. Under normal circumstances they would never have appeared. Saying it like that almost felt like setting a flag, but honestly—what kind ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of era produces another bastard like Kagan?

I was certain I would return safely this time. This was not foreshadowing; it was simple common sense.

"I hope we can meet again before the year is out. Fortune favor you, Teacher Advisor."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Even Ryutis managed a normal, ordinary farewell, and I was oddly moved. I really should not be getting emotional over something like this.

"I'll say my proper goodbye at the estate."

Erich's remark—that if I wanted to receive his farewell I should come to the territory before the expedition—made me snort with laughter.

I had already planned to go, but after hearing that, there was no way I could skip it.

By order of the Father Emperor, I appointed the marshals who would command the regional forces. The ones he had already chosen were the Count of Tailglehen, the former Count of Horfelt, Count Sapri of the North, and Marquis Labirge of the West.

Perfectly manageable.

I understood why the Father Emperor had suddenly transferred the authority to appoint marshals to me. He wanted me to make the appointments myself and stamp them with my own color.

That was why I settled on Count Sapri and Marquis Labirge. Their territories bordered the Hablem Duchy and the Chenes Duchy respectively—strategic locations. Bringing them under my influence could only be a gain, never a loss.

Moreover, both Count Sapri and Marquis Labirge were so eager that they intended to take the field in person. They also maintained relatively neutral stances in high society. Not appointing them would almost have been rude.

No need to worry about the central armies.

Unlike the regional forces, for which I had to search out suitable marshals myself, the central armies were straightforward. The Eighth Corps Commander of the Western Army had already been named marshal, and the Northern Army's theater commander would take direct command of his own forces.

That left only the Central Army, and even there the eldest of them all—the Second Corps Commander—had decided to join the expedition. He possessed ability to match his years, so there was no issue.

Quite a few of them.

I let out a small sigh. Counting the Northern Army's theater commander, who would effectively serve as a marshal, there were seven marshals in total. An empire that had ended a war only three years earlier had once again raised an army large enough to field seven marshals.

Of course, the purpose of this great host was not the serious extermination of the nomads, but simply to overwhelm them by its sheer existence. Central and regional forces combined exceeded two hundred and fifty thousand. To nomads who numbered only sixty or seventy thousand, that would be an enormous burden.

On top of that, the Audit Department Chief himself would join the campaign. Every element capable of shaking the nomads' morale had been committed.

"If the nomads fear the empire, the very embodiment of that fear is the Audit Department Chief. Even the Duke of Victory cannot press them with his mere presence the way he can."

The Father Emperor's words suddenly came back to me.

He had appointed the Chief as campaign inspector not for his personal martial power, but for what he symbolized. Force should be used decisively when necessary, yet the only one who could lead them to the best outcome—victory without fighting—was the Audit Department Chief.

He's right.

As long as the nomadic peoples endure, the Heaven-Reverser will never be forgotten, and the calamity who broke that Heaven-Reverser is the Audit Department Chief. The more the nomads revere and yearn for the Heaven-Reverser, the greater their fear of the Chief will grow.

I only hope the Chief's effect proves even greater than we anticipate. The sooner a war ends, the better.

…Is it greedy to hope it ends before the imperial grandchild is born?

If my first child's birth were stained with blood, I would grieve as a father—yet forcing an early end to the war would only get innocent soldiers killed.

So I will leave it in the hands of Enen and the Great Emperor. If They watch over that child, the birth will take place amid cheers and celebration, not blood and tears.

The moment I arrived in the Imperial Capital with the Demon Duke, I reported straight to the Audit Department. With departure imminent, I needed to take at least the minimum measures expected of a department chief, and there was a chance that intelligence on the expeditionary force had arrived in my absence.

Just got here.

As expected, the materials on the expeditionary force had arrived—fresh intelligence that had only come in that very morning.

Oh.

Looking at the fully confirmed expeditionary force, I could only feel admiration. The Emperor had put on quite the spectacular performance when issuing the mobilization order, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so I had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠expected something of this scale—but he had truly raised a force comparable to the last war.

Moreover, with the Duke of Victory—Deputy Commander of the Imperial Army—at the head, there were seven marshals or equivalent figures.

They're serious this time.

For the first time in a while, the marquis seal sitting in my pocket felt almost light.