Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Rumors of Promotion
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After the military meeting wrapped up, Banningss approached me as I stepped outside.
He let out a sigh of relief, looking utterly exhausted.
“Dorothy was right. Glad you made it back safe, Als.”
“You too, you did good.”
Banningss and the other regular cadets had fought with the central army.
Compared to the left or right flanks, the central army's battles hadn't been as fierce, but they'd still suffered over a thousand casualties.
Some of those were our fellow cadets from the academy.
“There were plenty injured, but luckily no fatalities. Really lucky, that.”
Banningss rambled a bit about the central army's fights before cautiously bringing up something else.
“Hey, you hear? One of the big heroes from this war might get promoted to general.”
“I heard from Dorothy. Sounds ridiculous.”
“It's not something to brush off that lightly.”
With the grand general position vacant and Second General Delbadova dead, the Caliper military now had two massive holes in its ranks.
They needed something—someone—to fill those gaps.
“And... word is, that someone might be you. Rumor has it Ironheart General and the other officers think pretty highly of you.”
“Ugh. No thanks.”
“Huh? You don't want it? To become a general?”
“Just... something like that.”
I could picture Duke Helian grinning in satisfaction.
The moment he heard about my exploits, he'd probably rush to the king, ranting about how Als Ilrain deserved a generalship for his merits.
‘I need to do something about this.’
There were limits to lightning promotions.
Plus, since I might end up founding my own nation someday, holding too high a post in Caliper Kingdom wasn't ideal.
“Come on, me? Banningss, I'm the fourth son of a baron. Bottom of the barrel, right?”
I tried joking to change the subject, but Banningss wouldn't let it go.
“Sure, but the military values skill above all. With commoner generals in other countries, a baron's fourth son who's noble should be fine. And you're good-looking too—highborn ladies might line up for you. Marry into one of those families, and your career's made!”
“You're hyping me up for some weird reason, aren't you?”
“Guh... You caught me? Well, actually...”
Banningss explained the shifting power games among the factions after this war.
“Something went down with Casper's group on the left flank. Joshua and Denian clashed with him and are trying to shove him aside to take center stage. Ruan's not even bothering with factions anymore.”
“Jeez, you guys acting like politicians, picking sides and all.”
“Anyway, listen. Others are talking too—if Casper's not leading, no need to follow him. Some... even want you to take over as leader.”
“Ha! You were all rowdy together before, and now that things are rough, you wanna glom onto me and play innocent? You know what I'd say to that.”
“Yeah, figured. Can't really see you leading that pack anyway.”
Banningss secretly hoped I'd lead the faction. That way, he could be a core member too.
“Whew! Dorothy doesn't care about leading either. Guess things'll be chaotic for a while, everyone picking sides.”
“One bit of advice: drop that crap as soon as you can.”
“Can't help it if I wanna live easy. Guys like me with no skill or family prestige have no other options.”
“You've got it rough too.”
What I liked about Banningss was his solid loyalty, even through all that.
‘Reminds me of this one guy.’
A certain character came to mind.
Ash Dranbalt, the playboy from the game.
Hopelessly frivolous with women, but rock-solid on bromance. He'd been close with Als too.
When Als got branded a traitor and thrown in prison, Ash had ripped into the protagonist's party and stormed back to his hometown.
If Ash hadn't left, he might've been the eighth retainer instead of seven.
‘His hometown was Toonkai, I think.’
The Toonkai troops in the last Chimera War were mostly Bandit King Klaus Faulkner's bandits, so Ash probably hadn't shown up. But this time? Who knew.
If he was here, I'd like to at least see his face.
*
*
*
Our army, now in Arandal, began full-scale withdrawal prep.
Ironheart General focused on treating the wounded, arranging wagons for soldiers with permanent injuries and willing cadets to head home first.
That freed me up, so before resuming Wade activities, I decided to recuperate.
Still anemic, I planned two days' rest.
“Here you go, eat up.”
Per my request, Eo kept bringing greasy, dripping foods.
I finally set down my utensils with a full belly.
“Was it to your taste?”
“Always is.”
“Hehe...”
Eo beamed.
I just couldn't wrap my head around it.
“...”
“...?”
“...”
“Is there something on my face?”
“No, not that.”
That monster I'd barely survived against after all my ordeals.
No way could Eo be on Fischer Partin's level. It didn't add up.
Poke! I jabbed her forehead with my finger. She blinked up cutely, like asking what the signal was.
“Got a favor. Try getting mad at me?”
“Huh? Out of nowhere, why...”
“Just try. Pretend I stole your snacks.”
“I wouldn't get mad over that.”
“Anyway.”
“Fine... Y-you jerk...!”
Not scary at all. Kinda embarrassing, actually.
“Eo, you're not really that strong, are you.”
“Huh!?”
“You lack intimidation. The guy I fought last time? One shout, and everyone crumpled. Even I felt my heart drop.”
“I can do that too!”
“Then show me.”
“B-but... not against you, Als.”
“Hmm, so it depends on the situation? That Fischer Partin looked like he could do it anytime.”
“I could if I wanted!”
“Then show me.”
“I can't against non-enemies. It depends who and why. Could you truly want to kill me, Als?”
“Nah, couldn't.”
“Same here.”
“Hmm...?”
Just then, Ymir returned from buying ingredients.
Her arms were full of medicinal herbs and nutritious foods.
Seeing the cleared table, she glared. Guilty Eo tried to slip away.
“...Eonia. What's this?”
Killer intent leaked from Ymir.
Eonia, cowed, stammered.
“Uh, well. Als wanted something tasty, so...”
“Didn't I say I'd handle meals today? And this? These are bad for you! Don't you know the young master's condition?”
“S-sorry.”
“If 'sorry' fixed everything, wars wouldn't happen!”
Eo flailed like a soldier cowed by Fischer.
Then.
“Young master, you're just as bad. Asking Eonia the second I'm gone.”
The ire turned to me. But I felt none of Eo's pressure.
Ymir soothed the troublemaker.
“I was gonna make something tasty this time.”
“With those poison-looking herbs?”
“Tasty as possible. You need to think of your health.”
“Yeah... Dinner's that, then. But Ymir. That was you mad at me, right?”
“Yes. I am mad.”
“Got it.”
Who, why, and how it's received. Eo's words clicked.
After lunch, Ymir and I went out sightseeing.
Arandal was a top-tier city, perfect for broadening horizons.
Eo wanted to tag along, but since buying gifts for Gongchisa was part of it, we left her.
‘Spoils the surprise if she knows.’
Also grabbing gifts for parents and sister Yulia.
Browsing shops for souvenirs, we stumbled on a grim sight.
“C'mon, step right up! Field work, odd jobs, even night work! Anything goes!”
A slave trader hawked ten beastkin slaves.
They looked wretched. No proper food or sleep—lifeless faces. One wrong move, and they'd drop dead.
‘Tells you how advanced Crossing's slave system is.’
Nothing like this in Crossing. Skimp on food or abuse slaves? State sanctions hit hard.
That's why Crossing's slaves rarely ran—basics provided.
Heck, slaves from elsewhere fled to volunteer for Crossing.
Crossing's system doubled as basic welfare.
“...”
Ymir gazed wistfully.
I spoke up.
“Don't worry, I won't buy them. That'd insult you.”
Pitying them just for being beastkin? That's discrimination. Humans could end up the same.
Pitying beastkin specifically? Same as pitying Ymir.
“I know. Just... if Lady Lizna hadn't taken me in, maybe I'd be like that.”
“Even if she did pity you for being beastkin, I'd reject that.”
“Lady Lizna wasn't like that. She was upright, just like you now.”
“Me, upright? Nah.”
“Hehe, that's what matches.”
Ymir stared fixedly at the beastkin slaves.
Seeing her sensitivity, I blurted.
“Ymir... you happy now?”
“...”
Ymir paused.
“Last time at Lady Lizna's grave, you said you wanted to find your happiness. I thought about it then.”
“And?”
“Your happiness is mine.”
About what I expected.
‘Someone else's happiness as your own...’
Even with our unique bond, was that possible? Real happiness?
Then.
“I'll take all those beastkin.”
Olaf.
He glared at the trader, face dark.
The trader grinned greedily, taking the cash—no questions.
He handed the bought slaves to Dillas and spotted me.
“Well, on a date?”
“Something like. But what was that? Dropping serious coin. Mind if I ask where it came from?”
“What you're thinking. Used Rainpole's funds. Budget for hiring hands.”
“Figured. What the hell are you doing?”
“Spending funds? Or saving them?”
“The latter. Saving them? That's despising beastkin.”
“Fair point. But not my intent. Better than miserable slavery—there's good paths for them. Welfare for them, manpower for us. Crossing's set up for it. No hesitation needed, right?”
“If you treated other races' slaves the same, fine. But you've only bought beastkin so far? Hypocrisy.”
“They get the worst treatment generally. Save the most at-risk first, obviously?”
Olaf countered, then chuckled and shook his head.
“No, lame excuses. You're right. But I won't change. Everyone carries their own hypocrisy, right? I'm no saint, Als.”
“I know. Wanted you to say that.”
“Damn, tested, huh.”
Everyone carries hypocrisy.
True enough. Me too.
I hadn't denied Ymir's words—my happiness is hers.
Couldn't, really. Whatever I said, leaning on her devotion, would've been hypocritical.