The Commander's Gift
Thud.
"Haaah..."
Arteon, having returned once more to Helikel Canyon, gazed upon the vast encampment and let out a breath of pure admiration.
It's on a scale that can't even begin to compare to before.
In his previous life, the Empire had attempted a northern advance as well—but never after seizing three key strongholds like this. They had merely stumbled into an opportunity at Elbarphiel Lake thanks to a blunder by the Kar tribe. That had allowed a push into the north, yet the supply lines had never properly held, plunging them into crisis after crisis.
This time was different.
Helikel Canyon. Aikulred. Elbarphiel Lake.
With all three bases firmly in hand, there was almost no chance of the supply routes faltering.
Confirming the fortress had been completed on a truly massive scale, he started forward into the camp.
Just then—
"Hey, Lieutenant Arteon!"
A familiar voice called from behind. Arteon turned.
A face he knew well.
Isaac.
"Captain!"
Arteon had assumed the man had already returned to his own unit; he stopped short, open delight breaking across his features. Isaac strode up with a broad laugh of his own.
"I put in a request to serve in the same unit as you—never thought it'd actually happen. Haha!"
"The same unit as me, sir?"
"Heh. Being around you just puts me in a good mood. We raked in a fat reward from Aikulred this time too, didn't we?"
Arteon smiled inwardly.
It wasn't about the money. He knew that. In his past life, Isaac had been the comrade who had shared the longest stretch of hardship and glory at his side.
So Arteon deliberately swept his bangs back with exaggerated flair and put on a shameless grin.
"But what am I supposed to do about it?"
"Something wrong?"
At Isaac's question, Arteon smirked.
"This damned popularity of mine never seems to fade, no matter where I go. Units left and right have been calling for me. I'm still deciding whether to transfer over to one of them. Come to think of it, I even got an offer from one of the knight orders in the capital this time."
"What? Which order? Wait—are you seriously thinking of going?"
Isaac's face turned grave in an instant. Arteon's skill was more than enough to draw offers from the center, after all.
Arteon merely shrugged.
"The terms are ridiculously good. Still thinking it over."
"Hey, you bastard! I came all the way out here because of you, and now you're talking about leaving? Are you actually going?"
"Haha. I'll give it some thought."
Arteon moved on, still teasing. Behind him Isaac shouted, "You leave and I won't let it slide!"—but Arteon only allowed himself a small smile.
Then—
Thud.
"It's been a while, both of you."
Claw approached. Arteon snapped into a crisp salute.
Claw hurriedly waved him off.
"Your rank is far higher than mine now. Please refrain from such gestures."
"Sergeant Major Claw will always be someone special to me."
"I'm grateful you think so, but I worry about how it might look to others."
A faint smile touched Claw's lips before he cut straight to business.
"The Commander is asking for you."
"Yes, sir."
"Understood."
Arteon and Isaac followed Claw to Velkain's tent. Velkain was waiting and greeted them as they entered.
"Come in, both of you."
"Hearts of Steel!"
"Hearts of Steel!"
Velkain nodded at their salute, set down the documents in his hand, and spoke.
"We're short on time, so I'll get to the point. Captain Isaac, you are hereby appointed company commander of the 3rd Company under the main force."
"Yes, sir. Understood."
"And Lieutenant Arteon, you will serve as leader of the 4th Platoon under the 3rd Company."
"Yes, sir. Understood!"
Both men answered firmly. Velkain exhaled softly.
"Haa... There's a great deal still to prepare. We haven't even filled thirty percent of our authorized strength yet."
"..."
Isaac's expression hardened. The troops already present numbered nearly ten thousand. And that was less than thirty percent?
Unlike the startled Isaac, Arteon regarded Velkain with calm composure. He had fully expected as much. On top of everything else, cold-weather supplies would have to be far more thorough than before. The cold farther north was on an entirely different level.
"In any case, it will take anywhere from three months at the shortest to half a year or more. Your task in the meantime is simple."
Velkain's eyes flashed sharp.
"When the northern advance finally begins... train the company and platoon under your command even harder, and lead your men so that they can carry out their assigned missions perfectly."
This might become the fiercest war in the Empire's history. Both Arteon and Isaac understood that. They steeled themselves accordingly.
"Hearts of Steel!"
"Hearts of Steel!"
Velkain nodded at their salute.
Then—
"Ah, Lieutenant Arteon."
"Lieutenant Arteon, reporting!"
Arteon answered. Velkain looked at him.
"I have a gift for you. Look forward to it."
"...Sir?"
At the question, Velkain and Claw only smiled in a way that gave nothing away.
The Imperial Palace.
The chamber hung with heavy crimson curtains was utterly still. Candle flames along the walls flickered gently, casting long shadows that slowly revealed the face of the man seated at their center.
First Prince Sedrian Aurelian.
In his sharp gaze lay the weight of one who bore the Empire's future, layered with the exhaustion born of endless rivalry with the Second Prince, Belacrod.
Yet he spoke to the man standing before him.
"How are the preparations proceeding?"
The man raised his head to meet Sedrian's eyes.
Albeus Crevan.
The prince's most trusted confidant and a strategist of exceptional skill.
Albeus answered.
"The forces stationed in the capital have already begun moving north. Moreover, thanks to the major victory on the Western Front in the most recent battle, we should be able to redirect a portion of those troops northward as well."
"General Melakan has been working hard, it seems."
"He is an outstanding man, after all. If only someone of his caliber could remain in the center... but he is forever roaming the battlefields..."
"Leave that matter there. It is precisely because General Melakan holds the outer fronts that the Empire enjoys its peace."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Continue."
At Sedrian's word, Albeus steadied his breath and spoke with careful gravity.
"And if Your Highness permits, I intend to move the Golden Lion Knights north as well. Once the northern advance begins in earnest, it would not do for the Golden Lion Knights to be absent from such an endeavor."
The Golden Lion Knights were the Empire's First Imperial Knights, renowned for their unmatched prowess. They were also men who followed Sedrian.
Sedrian nodded.
"Very well. Do as you see fit."
Yet a deep shadow soon settled in the prince's eyes, as though an unresolved problem still lingered.
Sedrian sighed.
"And... what of Belacrod's side? That one will not simply sit idle."
Albeus narrowed his eyes for a moment before answering in a low voice.
"I have been watching carefully... and it appears he has already begun to move."
At those words Sedrian let out a heavy sigh and pressed a hand to his forehead.
He knew well the ambition of the man who coveted the throne. Lately, however, Belacrod's methods had grown far more brazen. So many were dying that it was no longer possible to operate purely from the shadows.
It was said the path to the throne required a river of blood... yet he had never imagined a road so thoroughly hellish.
And more than that—
"Given his nature, he may even attempt to obstruct the northern advance itself. We must prepare without leaving so much as a single gap. If this endeavor succeeds properly... then we may finally put an end to this tiresome struggle once and for all."
"I shall keep that firmly in mind."
Albeus bowed and slowly turned to leave.
Once he was gone, Sedrian remained alone in the empty chamber.
Softly.
He rose and walked to the window. His gaze as he looked quietly outward remained sharp, yet beneath it lay a thick undercurrent of unease.
Sedrian knew it well.
His own faction and his younger brother Belacrod's were, in truth, evenly matched. A balance that could tip at any moment, with either side collapsing first.
I need a variable... something that can overturn the board in a single stroke.
Sedrian closed his eyes in silence.
Countless calculations and scenarios tangled in his mind, yet nothing that could bind them into a decisive knot.
In the end...
I have no choice but to stake everything on the northern advance.
In the north, where the situation was already so tangled and chaotic...
Would the answer be found there?
Sedrian's thoughts remained nothing but complicated.
What kind of gift was he talking about...?
Turning over Velkain's final words, Arteon walked slowly through the camp. Cold air parted around him as he passed rows of tents. From every direction came the sounds of soldiers training and weapons clashing.
Yet his heart remained strangely quiet.
What in the world did he mean by a gift...?
When he reached the tent where his platoon members should be, a sharp, powerful voice suddenly rang out.
"Unit, attention!"
Every movement inside the tent froze at once.
Then a vigorous shout erupted.
"Salute to the platoon leader!"
"Hearts of Steel!"
The sight of his platoon members snapping their fists to their left chests in perfect unison brought Arteon to a complete halt, eyes wide.
"You lot...?"
Arteon's pupils trembled hard.
Weapons set aside, right fists clenched and pressed to left chests in salute—familiar faces entered his vision one by one.
The platoon members who had shed blood with him on the Northeastern 4th Defense Line and at the Battle of Elbarphiel Lake.
Every gaze was fixed on Arteon, faces alight with both joy and resolve.
And from the very front rank, one soldier stepped forward.
His stride was unwavering, his voice as solid as ever.
"Have you been well, Platoon Leader?"
It was Grein, the former vice platoon leader, now a sergeant.
The shock in Arteon's eyes gradually settled.
And then—
"...Good to see you, you bastards."
Arteon looked them over and grinned.