Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Operation Proposal
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"Commander!"
The sentry who spotted the Army Commander quickly straightened his posture. Ever since the clash with Arthur, the Army Commander had been radiating an even more murderous aura. Meeting those venom-laced eyes, a shiver shot down the sentry's spine in an instant.
"Commander Arthur."
"He is confined inside the barracks."
Dever, his face set in an utterly merciless Army Commander's mask, strode into the barracks.
"You're here?"
A half-empty whiskey bottle sat on Arthur's bedside table, welcoming him. Dever said nothing in response and simply leaned back in the chair opposite.
"Did you mistake confinement for a commendation leave?"
"Heh. Yeah. But he's still a prince. They didn't want to humiliate him too much."
A sigh-like laugh escaped him, laced with resignation. The self-mockery buried within it was something Dever hoped he wouldn't notice.
"Have you given any thought to how to punish your disloyal commander?"
He tried to force the corners of his mouth upward, but his stiff lips wouldn't budge. He'd practiced so much it felt ingrained, yet it all amounted to nothing—emptiness washed over him.
"What are you thinking?"
Even Arthur, who prided himself on knowing Dever best, couldn't read him now. If he hadn't mentioned the Emperor's orders, Dever would have pulled the trigger without hesitation.
That was Dever Cliff.
The hunting dog meticulously raised by the previous generation's Duke Cassius—or rather, a beast so fixated on its goal it couldn't even be called a dog anymore.
"Did you say you were sick of it?"
Dever responded not with an answer, but with an enigmatic murmur.
"What?"
"Living like this. You said you were sick of it."
"Ah."
Only then did Arthur recall his own words from that day. The day a Kovah spy emerged from the Emperor's Guard. He'd been smoking a cigar behind the hospital, whining like a spoiled child in his own mind.
To think he'd remembered that.
"Everyone... everyone's sick of it, aren't they?"
"Not me."
"What?"
"I'm sick of it."
Dever had never once spoken about the war or the endless power struggles. He'd hidden his emotions so thoroughly that Arthur had once suspected the rumors were true—that he actually enjoyed it all.
"I don't want to live like this."
The profound confession came out in a flat tone.
"I'm going to end it."
Dever rose slowly, his shadow falling over Arthur.
"For that, I need a reliable commander."
"You don't mean..."
His fine golden-blond hair cascaded down as he bowed his head. Dever's words continued above him.
"I'm going to use my pardon authority."
The Army Commander, the only one in Nexus besides the Emperor with pardon power. In a military state like Nexus, his word carried near-absolute authority, impossible to defy.
Once "confinement" left his mouth, the punishment was set. And with that, the commander's position would naturally be revoked—it was a predictable sequence.
"Don't you know you can only use the pardon once?"
"Is handing Nexus over to Kovah your goal?"
His superior's icy gaze fixed on Arthur.
"You're a Nexus man, not Kovah."
Dever gripped Arthur's tense shoulder with just the right pressure.
"Loyalty to His Majesty is the same for all imperial citizens. Don't waste time on pointless guilt."
"So you knew."
That I'm the Emperor's eyes.
"How could I not?"
"Even then, how could you—"
"You know my secret, and I have your weakness. Fair trade, isn't it?"
Dever's secret. But could it even be called that?
"Or dress it up as wartime brotherhood if it makes you feel less awkward. Tomorrow at six PM, tactical meeting in the isolation room. Be ready."
As he left the barracks, Dever tossed out one last remark. It didn't seem directed at Arthur, though.
"No need to announce the pardon publicly like some disgrace. The rats eavesdropping will spread the word before dawn."
Listening to the receding footsteps, Arthur covered his face. Even alone, he wanted to hide—his pathetic state was unbearable.
The silent barracks offered no comfort. Dever's hand had lifted from his shoulder, but an indelible weight still crushed him.
Guilt, or perhaps self-loathing.
The sleepless night dragged on, each tormented by their own reasons and hearts.
Winter night's chill felt different to everyone. It was cruel.
Dever headed to the hospital late in the afternoon.
Choosing the hospital isolation room for a staff meeting at sunset was ultimately about security. First the Kovah spy, now even the Emperor. There were too many untrustworthy elements.
They'd already suffered two crushing defeats.
Even for Dever, a third failure would make the outcome unpredictable.
"Oh, Commander!"
The soldiers' discipline was at an all-time high in the wake of yesterday's events.
Instead of heading straight to the fourth floor, Dever began inspecting from the first. Everyone glanced curiously and fearfully, wondering 'Who's he targeting this time?', but none dared speak.
"Oh? Hello, Duke!"
Of course, there were always exceptions. Dixie greeted him brightly.
Dever's curt nod shifted his gaze to the woman rubbing her eyes beside the redhead. She snapped her head up at 'Duke', then quickly averted her eyes. Her obvious attempt to pretend she hadn't seen him was rather endearing.
"Good day to you too, Nurse Beth."
He wasn't the gentlemanly type to let that slide.
Beth practically shoved her charts into her friend's arms with an audible thud. She heard Dixie calling after her as she backtracked down the hall, but ignored it. That wasn't what mattered.
She'd been relieved all day that Dever hadn't shown up.
Why did this soldier keep haunting the hospital anyway?
"As you know, the barracks phone lines were blown up."
This man must have studied mind-reading instead of military tactics. The sharp click of her hurried heels contrasted with the crisp tread of his military boots, echoing out of sync down the corridor.
Unlike Beth, who paled at the thought of yesterday's incident, Dever's face showed a leisure bordering on boredom.
His neatly tied black hair framed ears flushed bright red. Dever suppressed a twitching smirk.
"Hold on a moment."
The staircase at the end of the hall was already in sight.
"You have nowhere to go."
He meant within the hospital, but Beth recalled last night's conversation at the dorms.
The question of where she'd return after the war. She hadn't answered, but this man might have understood anyway.
"Come with me."
She halted as the man overtook her effortlessly, his chest blocking her path.
"Look at me."
He stepped to match her gaze fixed on the innocent wall. Suddenly, the golden brooch—worn by only two in Nexus—filled her vision.
"Today—"
"Commander Dever."
Dever's brow furrowed irritably.
How were there so many people who always cut in whenever he tried to say something to her? With a sigh, he turned to see Madam Molly beckoning from the stairs, blissfully unaware.
"Yes, Madam."
"A call from the Imperial Palace. Good thing you're nearby."
Dever licked his dry lips. Of all the useless people, it had to be her summons.
Her clear face avoided his eyes until it was time to part, stirring a twinge of annoyance. He reluctantly pried his feet loose, tapping his boot heels against the floor needlessly.
"Wait for me."
Only after that gruff plea did he dash up the stairs. Madam Molly asked what was wrong, but Beth just shook her flushed face excitedly.
She had no answer to give.
"Your Majesty."
[Oh, Dever.]
Even over Dever's curt, dry voice, the Emperor sounded pleased. Encouraging words tumbled through the crackling line, but his stony expression didn't soften.
It was all too obvious.
The fool who neither discarded nor devoured the ever-thorny Cliff Family.
"Get to the point."
[Ahem.]
An awkward silence traveled the line.
"Arthur made a mistake."
As Dever toyed with the phone cord, the thought of hanging up crossed his mind.
[He's always been riddled with inferiority toward you. I must have told him to step up with the Britain forces once you recovered. He was shocked to hear he'd botched it.]
A string of excuses, each hitting the mark without fail.
[The Nexus forces rely heavily on your abilities. He could never stand that. The spoiled brat who only ever basked in the late Emperor's favor.]
The jackknife drawn from his pocket gleamed sharply.
[We can't afford to retreat from here—]
The severed line cut off the droning nonsense.
"Useless bastard."
Sacrificing his own brother to cut losses. Dever had no intention of defying the Emperor, but he was done playing puppet.
Not anymore, at least.
Irritation he couldn't hide etched Dever's face as he opened the isolation room door. Gail saluted smartly, gauging the Army Commander and Commander.
Word of Dever pardoning Arthur had spread to the Britain forces before noon.
After consecutive defeats, stripping the key pillar Arthur of his position would crater morale. The overwhelming consensus was that the Army Commander had considered that.
Despite his brutally cold nature and the rumors, he retained dignity and admiration thanks to moments like this—everyone knew it.
"We'll proceed with the original plan. If you have any brains, you'll remember it."
Dever glanced at Gail's bandaged head. The operational map spread out on the bed.
The meeting, starting early evening, dragged into the deep night.
"Blow up the bridges leading to the Kovah capital. Cut their supply lines—that's the goal. Nexus takes the center, Britain the flanks. No need to catch them all. Just trap the ones stranded between the blasted bridges."
"What's the operation name?"
"Pig herding?"
Arthur answered Gail's question.
"Vulgar."
Dever's long finger slowly traced the circular zone that would become the enemy's prison.
"Doesn't it look like a ring?"
He jabbed the starting point like a period.
"Call it Proposal."
"Pardon?"
Dever replied clearly to his dumbfounded subordinate.
"Operation Proposal. That'll do."