Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Cadet Training Begins
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Erina's carriage was at least twice as large as the one I'd ridden in.
Thanks to that, I could spread out the bouquets, which was fortunate, but Erina started prying into it relentlessly.
"Pretty flowers. Who gave you all those bouquets?"
"From acquaintances."
I gave a curt reply while reading my book.
"Acquaintances?"
"There are several. The kid next door I chat with sometimes. The girl at the bookstore I frequent. Someone who occasionally sends letters."
"Letters? That's devotion. What do they do?"
"A kid who's not even seven yet. Speaking of letters... Do you not read them carefully?"
I pointed out how she'd ignored my warning not to act like she knew me in public, and Erina pouted.
"I do read them carefully. I just don't commit the unreasonable parts to memory."
"Unreasonable?"
"Well, you can't pretend not to know someone you obviously do, right?"
"Haa..."
If that was the case, I decided to draw a clear line publicly right then.
"I don't want to get close to anyone from the Salleon faction. From now on, don't talk to me so casually."
"Ah...!"
She seemed to misunderstand that I was angry about the Salleon faction impersonating Wade to steal credit, and she made a tearful face without saying a word.
Banningss next to her looked flustered at her attitude, but getting involved would only make things noisier.
The air grew heavy. Dorothy forced a smile and spoke up.
"Come on, now. No need for us to frown over the adults' issues."
Dorothy took the lead in steering the mood.
I tried to ignore them and pass the time with my book, but an unexpected conversation bloomed.
Dorothy couldn't hide her interest upon seeing the cover of my book and chimed in.
"Als, didn't you say you're a cadet officer? Why are you reading an agriculture manual?"
"I've developed an interest recently."
After going through various events lately, I'd been pondering my future direction.
The reason the Pensilon Empire fell, the secret of my birth, stories from Gaspar and Bayolaf Dresden, and more. I'd learned a lot, but there were still many unknowns.
One thing was certain: I'd end up involved in national governance sooner or later. Even if not, I was already indirectly managing a territory.
That meant I needed knowledge on food production. Especially considering the Pensilon Empire's collapse due to population growth.
To keep up with population increases, primary industries had to be rock-solid.
In the past year, I'd been studying agriculture, livestock, fishing—anything food-related.
"Interested in agriculture? Wow, I'm thrilled."
"Thrilled?"
"Yeah, like I've gained a comrade. I'm studying agriculture too."
Dorothy said she'd always been interested in horticulture and farming.
But her family was such a traditional military house that she'd been forced into the officer academy.
"My father said if that's the case, think of ways to apply agriculture to war. So I said sure."
"Agriculture in war... like field farms? Do you think that's feasible?"
"Well, I'm still a fledgling. But I do have ideas for improving farming efficiency."
"Efficiency? Now I'm curious. Care to share?"
Dorothy's interest in agriculture wasn't superficial. She had broader and deeper knowledge than I did after just a year.
I listened intently, drawn in.
Erina, reduced to a third wheel, rustled and snapped her fan idly.
"Adjusting crop rotations to boost yields?"
"Exactly. Basic stuff. Noble-led farming is too rigid and inefficient. They stick to one crop regardless of weather or region, or force their favorites. Reducing that inefficiency could increase yields. Soil management would be easier too."
"True, switching crops by season and region is common sense. The problem is nobles who ignore it."
"Right? You get it, Als. Sigh, I wish my fiancée were like you, someone I could talk to. She ignores me and just talks about parties or bullying others all day. Headache."
"You have a fiancée?"
"Yeah, two years older, second daughter of Marquis Linheart. We just don't click. What about you? With that look, you must be getting tons of proposals."
"What look?"
"Exactly that. And all those bouquets."
"Hmm... There have been proposals. Unrealistic ones."
"Unrealistic? Oh, probably from someone past marriageable age. Happens."
"Well, lately I've been exchanging letters with someone. Not serious, but she's surprisingly fun, so I've started enjoying it."
Erina snickered at that.
"You're funny too, Sir Als. From what I hear, no such person exists."
"Not a joke."
"...So there really is someone you're discussing marriage with?"
"Is there a reason I shouldn't?"
Rustle, snap! Rustle, snap! Her fanning picked up.
"Who is it?"
"Don't you think prying that far is rude?"
"..."
The air grew heavy again.
Banningss looked baffled at the sudden chill.
*
*
*
Upon entering Alpenserd, we split into two groups at the academy entrance.
General and regular students headed straight to classrooms for academics and etiquette, while us cadets, including me, headed to the central training grounds.
"Place your luggage at your feet!"
At the escorting officer's shout, servants began moving the bags. Mine was just one bag, so it didn't take long, but the bouquets were an issue.
'Need to transfer them to vases before they wilt.'
Once luggage was piled in front, training officers appeared.
"Ooh!"
Students gasped at the sight.
"It's General Ironheart!"
"A military general here in person..."
Caliper's Five Generals: Ironheart Ranvers.
He arrived at the training grounds with dozens of subordinate officers.
Ironheart narrowed his eyes, roughly counting the students.
"Roughly three hundred... Far more than expected."
Muttering that, he nodded to a close aide to begin.
The officer cleared his throat and bellowed.
"All hands, form ranks! Rows and columns!"
But with luggage piled up, it was impossible. Rebukes flew immediately.
"Out for a picnic? You're officers of the army now! Think you'll survive with that mindset? And what's with those mountains of luggage? Planning to drag it to the battlefield? No one's babysitting you!"
No sooner had he finished than other officers charged in, inspecting luggage.
They rifled through cadets' bags, berating them.
Tuxedos for parties, chess sets for downtime, novels, etc. They tossed them out like trash to humiliate.
"W-wait! That's mine...!"
"Wait? You little shit, committing insubordination?"
"Ugh...!"
With so many prideful noble sons, chaos erupted.
'Knew it would happen. Idiots.'
Those like me who'd steadily followed the cadet path behaved, but late transfers from mid or high academy faced hell.
With war elevating the military, many had switched at parents' insistence. Hence the naive packing.
'If I'd brought what Eonia packed, same fate.'
Soon an officer approached me.
"Name?"
"Als Ilrain. Rank: junior officer."
"Junior officer? Started cadet track young, huh."
"Yes, sir."
He frowned at my luggage.
"What's this? Flowers."
"Gifts from acquaintances congratulating me."
"Here to collect prizes?"
"Didn't think it'd be an issue. I'll correct it if so."
"Talking back! Trash like this...!"
He raised his knee to stomp the bouquets—then.
"Dudley──!!"
The training grounds fell silent at the roar.
"Yes, sir! General!"
The officer berating me paled and rushed to Ironheart.
Ironheart shoved his face close, foreheads nearly touching, and chewed him out.
After a moment, the officer returned, sour-faced.
"Sorry. My mistake. If acquaintances gave them to support your enlistment, no issue. Our army always appreciates such cheers. Can't carry them around, though, so I'll take them."
"You're throwing them out?"
"No, into vases. Come check later."
"Thank you."
His attitude flipped like a pancake.
Probably because Ironheart knew my identity... Or maybe Duke Helian pulled strings.
The cadet retreat officially began.
We received two uniforms each and lived in them only. No undressing even for sleep—highly uncomfortable.
I managed fine. Modern military experience, plus I could hand-wash.
Most nobles couldn't. As Eonia said, some just rinsed, others skipped entirely.
They dumped laundry on weaker houses' kids or commoners.
I was one of the weaker, but they avoided me after seeing my friendship with Dorothy.
A week in.
The dorm reeked from shoddy laundry.
'Can't take it!'
I surrendered.
Not the smell. The food was disgustingly bad.
The insane curriculum replaced all three meals for a fortnight with combat rations.
Even modern combat rations were infamous; these were worse.
I'd eaten them campaigning with Wade as top officer, with decent meals.
These were standard soldier fare—for shortages.
Rock-hard bread hurting teeth, soup like rotten eggs.
Torture after Eonia's gourmet meals.
Others felt it too; black-market borrowing circulated. Officers ignored it.
'Shouldn't have been cocky.'
Left Ymir and Eonia in Reinpol thinking it'd be fine.
Asked Beril, who commutes from Reinpol, but she was already gone.
'No choice. Endure two more days.'
Shoulders slumped, walking the academy garden, a savory aroma wafted.
'Tea and pastries!'
Drawn to it, someone was enjoying tea time.
'I'll snag some somehow.'
Up close, familiar faces: Fake Wade Kesfer. And Erina with her father, Gilbert Salleon.