Chapter 76
Chapter 76
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Factions at the Academy
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The academy had returned after the war's end.
With the deaths of Dunan, who had served as an instructor, and several cadets, the classroom atmosphere was dismal.
So many cadets were complaining of psychological trauma that the wounds from that war ran deep.
They needed to shake off that despair somehow, even forcibly, and to that end, factions had formed.
"You've got some nerve showing your faces, you cowards!"
"It's because of you that Zelson died!"
Those who had fought in the victorious battles began shunning the other cadets who had stayed back at the rear.
'They're at it again, doing something utterly stupid.'
If the psychological pressure was too much, they could just quit being cadets. But they didn't want that, so they were bullying others to boost their own egos.
I took it in stride and sat down in my seat, but soon a guy who seemed to be part of the group approached.
"Hey, Ilrain. You hung back at the rear too, right?"
"...So?"
The arrows were coming my way now too. Officially, I was known to have been at the rear, so it was only natural.
"So? You gutless bastard. What good's good grades? When it came down to actual combat, you ditched your comrades and ran like trash!"
"Ha, so what? You gonna hit me or something?"
Their behavior was so repulsive that a sharp retort slipped out before I knew it.
The guy scowled as if to say, "Who do you think you're talking back to?"
"If that's what you want, I'll smash that pretty face of yours on behalf of everyone else."
"Try it if you can. I'll show you whose face gets smashed."
"You little... "
Even as he said it, he couldn't bring himself to charge, just clenching his fist tight.
Into this powder-keg atmosphere, Banningss rushed in desperately to intervene.
"H-Hey, hold on! It's not Als! He was badly wounded in the first battle!"
Only a classmate would do that.
Banningss, who had talked with me back then, knew I hadn't been injured at all, but he covered for me with a lie anyway.
"Als was with the rear unit that opened the escape route in the first battle. He was the commander of that unit! Sure, some other officer actually led it, but he still fought there and got hurt! No reason to call him a coward!"
The cadet who had been threatening me made a sour face and nodded grudgingly.
It was like a gesture exempting me from the witch hunt. The faction guys nodded too, as if saying, "Don't touch Ilrain."
Banningss let out a sigh of relief.
"Whew, you okay, Als?"
"Thanks. If you hadn't covered for me, things could've gotten messy."
"Messy? That's an understatement."
Banningss glanced at the huddled faction members and whispered.
"They're dead serious. Looks like they're pressuring the ones who didn't fight to make them quit."
"Nice work they're doing."
"Watch your back so you don't get targeted. Best to buddy up with the key figures if you can."
Key figures. Casper Milias and Ruan Chase. And Dorothy, who had become head of the Grimwood count family after Dunan.
Casper, the core among them, stood rigidly at the group's center.
'That guy's got the weirdest luck.'
If he hadn't deserted, his impersonation would've been exposed right when I showed up.
In my view, that was the lifeline Casper could've grabbed.
Even if he'd been branded a liar and vilified at that point, the circumstances would've let him muddle through somehow.
Now it had turned into a no-win situation.
Thanks to this incident, his classmates admired him more, and the influence from his impersonation had spiraled out of control.
"But Wade, is that true? That you brought in Bayolaf Dresden and... killed him?"
It was a question from one of the faction guys.
Casper furrowed his brow, questioning back with his expression alone.
"No, you sent Prince Romello against Eurofe and took in Bayolaf Dresden. I heard you did it to kill him because you hated him impersonating you. Is that right?"
"Th-That..."
He started panicking visibly.
That rumor was one I'd deliberately spread. Since Bayolaf had abandoned his old identity to work under me, it was better for the story to flow that way.
What flustered Casper was something else.
"To punish the impersonator...?"
"Huh? Wasn't it?"
"Uh, y-yeah. Right! That's exactly it."
"Whew, impressive as expected. Dresden's a famous count family even in Eurofe. To take down their heir like that. Bet the other impersonators pissed themselves."
Voices praising Casper erupted here and there.
Casper just stood there, sweat trickling down coldly.
'At this point, it feels like everyone knows and is just messing with him.'
Otherwise, it meant Casper was truly backed into a corner with no escape. If he admitted he was fake now, it was obvious how his classmates would treat him.
The shadow of ruin was slowly creeping up behind Casper.
That was how the two weeks after returning to the academy passed, plagued by faction formation.
The military seemed to view it positively instead. The cadets were overcoming the war's pain and building internal unity.
Such factions could become a problem if they grew too big, but since they were just kids' groups, they were leaving them alone.
The fallout hit the shunned cadets full force.
Non-nobles were openly getting beaten up, and even nobles faced scorn from commoners if they didn't suck up to the factions.
No instructor figure had been assigned to rein it in yet, so things worsened by the day.
'Guess they're still just kids.'
The problem was they had a righteous cause. Most of those who went to the rear really had fled in fear, so the faction kids were even more bold.
In a way, it was a natural phenomenon.
'But... does this mean I'm basically a loner now?'
I wasn't in a faction, nor was I getting bullied by one.
The factions didn't like that I wasn't kissing up, but Banningss would shield me endlessly, saying, "Als has always been the standoffish type." And Dorothy, one of the faction cores, protected me too: "Als saved my life. Don't badmouth him."
So things stayed peaceful.
Peaceful in name only—it was boring as hell with no one to talk to since I wasn't aligned with anyone.
'Yeah, this is fine.'
With Rainpole's internal affairs getting busier anyway, it was better to just coast at the academy.
If anything, my steps home felt heavier.
Sure enough, the office in Rainpole upon my return had documents piled up to eye level waiting for me.
Olaf, who had processed them all day, greeted me with a weary look.
"All done. Just read and sign off, Als."
"Can't you just sign them yourself?"
"Be serious. I'm not an official Crossing administrator."
"Neither am I."
What can I say. Olaf and I pre-approved them, then Anton or another Crossing official gave the final sign-off.
Peak inefficiency, but no choice.
I'd tried handing internal affairs to Crossing admins as a test, but they botched it and Bisceta Clen complained.
Asking for competent talent felt risky too—who knew what Juras might plant.
'We have to handle internal affairs with our own strength somehow.'
I saw this as training for running a country later. Until talent gathered, we'd tough it out.
I sat at the desk and reviewed the documents one by one.
Olaf shrugged and said.
"Most are about the upcoming festival."
"Now that you mention it, it's that time."
Rainpole, now a mid-sized city, had expanded its festival scale accordingly.
Such festivals drew crowds from surrounding areas, so the floating population would explode during it.
No issues last year due to the small city size, but this year was different.
"Why this timing, though?"
Olaf voiced the fundamental question.
"Usually festivals are spring ones praying for good harvests or autumn ones celebrating them. A midsummer festival? Too hot to enjoy properly."
"Crossing's a bit different."
With its barren land, Crossing couldn't do double cropping.
"So they focus on improving soil in early spring and start planting late spring. No energy for spring festivals. Autumn's harvest time, plus peak fishing season for main species. No room there either. So Crossing does a fall prayer festival in summer and a next-year harvest prayer in late winter."
"I see."
"I figured Eurofe, also in the north, would be similar. Not?"
"Better off than here. ...Anyway, perfect timing. Good chance to promote your book."
"...Pardon?"
I thought I'd misheard.
"Promote what?"
"Why the innocent face? You think people will buy your book just 'cause it's out? You gotta hustle and sell it till it gains traction."
"Hustle how... "
We'd agreed to publish the version without sex scenes under my name. Pen name: Platinum.
"If this main edition sells well, the erotic novel side will take off on its own. So hustle hard, please."
"Urgh..."
Who'd have thought novel promotion.
This festival's gonna be noisy.
*
*
*
A conference room somewhere.
It felt like another world.
The air was heavy despite not being high altitude, and insects had hidden away, sensing instinctive danger.
Three leaders of the western tribes sat side by side, exuding murderous pressure. The weak-hearted would've collapsed on the spot.
But their guest showed no sign of intimidation.
"Never thought such busy folks would come in person."
The young leader among them. Irvana, hailed in the west as the Kirin Child.
"Especially Svenner's Grand General."
Jemuto of Svenner and his retainers had come visiting. Svenner and the west were allies, but the air between them wasn't warm even in pretense.
Jemuto's men were on high alert, ready to draw swords any second, and the westerners matched them.
Jemuto spoke.
"I came after hearing your plan. Bottom line: that war can't happen."
The leaders' faces twitched at his words.
The female leader, Teto, showed her displeasure openly.
"Can't happen? Who are you to control us? You don't think you're above us just because of this alliance, do you?"
"..."
"Don't delude yourself. We originally planned to wipe out you Svenner blocking our path and advance on the continent. We showed mercy because of your sweet-talking flattery."
At Teto's growl, the elderly leader, Haneman, intervened.
"Calm down, everyone. I can understand Lord Jemuto's position. Surely it's diplomatically wise not to act rashly now."
Svenner was currently in the worst diplomatic spot, framed for assassinating Byulang's king. Ally Eurofe had cut ties, and Tunkai was hush-hush.
Other central-eastern nations openly condemned them, cornering Svenner diplomatically.
Starting another war now could brand them public enemy, possibly forming an anti-Svenner coalition in the worst case.
"But, Lord Jemuto, this is also an opportunity. All nations exhausted themselves in this war, while our forces remain intact. Now's our chance for the west to advance on the continent."
"You must have someone planted in Byulang for that."
"Of course, but Byulang's situation changed. No guarantee that agent can act as we wish now."
Byulang was ramping up military power for civil war prep, while maxing vigilance against west and Svenner—hard to touch.
"So we're turning eyes elsewhere to seize gains. Understand as allies, won't you?"
"Elsewhere... Bekavia, obviously."
Bekavia, absurdly weakened. In the recent Chimera War, they'd overextended sending aid for diplomatic gains.
If west invaded now, Bekavia likely couldn't hold.
West planned to destroy Bekavia and use it as foothold to enter continent.
Objectively sound strategy. But Jemuto paused before replying.
"Your scheme's probably readable."
"Meaning?"
"The culprit behind Byulang's king assassination—if not you, then Crossing. That Crossing has him: Juras the Infallible. High chance he's reading your thoughts."
"Hahaha! If even you say that much, he's clearly exceptional, but calling it 'in the palm of his hand' rubs wrong. Aren't you underestimating us?"
"Reality. He read your Byulang inside man in advance. Same for Bekavia you're targeting. Post-Three Lions War, Crossing unnecessarily left Bekavia alone. Could've annexed it after destroying, but didn't. I think it's a trap to lure you."
"You mean they created this situation on purpose to draw us into invading Bekavia? No way. No one draws that big a picture."
"That's the kind of guy he is. My spies all say the same: peerless genius, freak beyond norms. Rush in rashly, and he might devour us. Best skip this war."
Jemuto's war philosophy was firm.
No uncertain wars. To him, this one had too many variables.
Irritated by Jemuto's consistent stance, Irvana—who'd kept polite till now—distorted her pretty face demonically and snarled.
"...Devour us? Us? Me!? Keep talking, you Svenner bastard."
Svenner's men flinched at Irvana dropping the mask.
"We'll be the devourers. The blade of revenge we've honed for a century isn't dull."
Jemuto remained unfazed, calmly asking.
"Will you lead the march, Irvana Hren?"
"Unfortunately no. Much as I'd love to capture Juras alive and grind him into sausage."
Haneman took the floor instead.
"I'll lead. You know my capabilities at my age, right?"
"..."
Jemuto, deeming further dissuasion pointless, nodded.
"Then advice: besides Juras, watch one more."
"...?"
"Mercenary Wade. High chance he'll deploy as Juras's deputy. If he shows, guard him as closely as Juras."
"His identity?"
"Investigating, but too many impersonators causing confusion. Crossing might be scheming too—hard to pin down."
"Hmm, if you say that much, seems cunning. But no worries. I have dozens like him under me."
"Hope that's true."
Jemuto turned and left. With Svenner's tacit approval, no hesitation needed.
West immediately reorganized armies on a massive scale.
Swiftly assembling 130,000 troops.