The Ugly Face That Does the Talking
"Wanna fight? Wanna go?"
Two of the three documents His Majesty the Emperor gave me have been put to excellent use. One was an order granting the Behemoth operational authority to the Hellhound Brigade. The other was an order to supply the Hellhound Brigade with reserve force bolt-action rifles and ammunition.
"Everything's been moved. But Commander, there's one thing you should know."
"What is it?"
"They're basically all old, worn-out reserve stock—surplus materiel from the reserve divisions. A bit battered."
"That figures. Doesn't matter. Good work, Major. Thanks to you, it went smoothly."
When I said that, the reserve force Major saluted me.
"If my help could assist the war hero, the honor is all mine."
I returned his salute and walked toward the Behemoth, where the crates of rifles were stacked.
"Adjutant. What's the condition of the rifles?"
The adjutant—having picked up one of the rifles that had just been unloaded—was cycling the bolt, checking the chamber, when she stuck out her tongue and shook her head.
"Not unusable. Well-oiled, decent maintenance. But they're surplus from the old reserve stock, so they're pretty antiquated."
Heavy. And unwieldy. War-era bolt-action rifles that used the old 8x57mm rounds soldiers had complained about because the recoil was too punishing. They'd been retired.
I took the rifle from the adjutant's hands, shouldered it, and cycled the bolt myself to check the condition.
"This much is plenty. Adjutant. We weren't planning on fighting a war anyway. How many rifles?"
"Five thousand rifles, with two million rounds of ammunition."
"Good. Then let's move."
I walked to the front of the Behemoth, to the locomotive.
"Driver! Starting today, you're Hellhound Brigade. How do you feel about that?"
The young driver flashed me a grin and waved.
"I get to work with a war hero! Can't complain!"
"Good. Then we depart. Destination..."
The place we needed to rob first among the west, east, and south.
"West. Heading for the Marquis Leonard's domain in the west."
"Understood!"
Coal was fed into the furnace, and it began to roar. The magical engine, drawing power from the fire source, let out its characteristic rumbling vibration. The great iron beast finished preparing to run on the rails.
"All aboard!"
The armored train lurched forward, trailing its many freight cars behind it. As speed built, the cool wind began to slap my face.
I watched the locomotive move for a moment, then climbed into one of the freight cars.
"Adjutant. You're from the west, right?"
"Yes."
"Then you'll have to guide us when we arrive."
I looked at the old rifles packed into the train and smiled.
"Let's go arm the beastmen."
Empire's West. Unlike the south, famous for farming, or the east, famous for trade, the empire's west was the industrial heartland. Massive factories and production hubs clustered together. Black smoke poured out endlessly, and already the only things visible were the dense web of roads and the ten-to-twenty-story buildings just beginning to rise.
"We've arrived, Commander."
"Good work."
The Behemoth stopped at the train station.
"Unload the trucks first!"
The truck that had carried us from the north to the palace had been docilely stored in the freight car the whole way. After unloading it from the train, we climbed into the truck.
"Let's go, Marquis Leonard's estate. That big, fancy-looking building way over there."
"At your command."
The magical engine sucked up fuel and began generating power. From inside the rattling truck, I looked at the adjutant. She seemed lost in thought.
"It's been a while since you've been home. What are your feelings?"
"Like shit. There's nothing good to remember here."
"You left your hometown a long time ago, didn't you?"
"Yes. I suppose so."
"Is it possible to visit the beastman community here and make contact?"
The adjutant smirked.
"If it's impossible, then why would I bother? The Hellhound is a legend among beastmen. They'll welcome me the moment I show up."
"Good. Then go make contact, bring them back to the Behemoth, and arm everyone. Tell them they can keep any illegal pistols or shotguns they're carrying. And the moment they're armed, bring the whole lot to Marquis Leonard's estate."
"Do you want me to say it openly?"
"Openly. Walk the streets. What matters here is their status. Move as Hellhound Brigade members, not street gang members. Got it?"
I handed the recruitment authority document the Emperor had given me to the adjutant.
"Remember this. We're not a gang. We're officially authorized recruits of a new Hellhound battalion. You understand?"
The adjutant was quick on the uptake. She smiled and tucked the order granting her the authority to recruit into her coat pocket.
"As you command, Commander."
She lightly hopped out of the moving truck and naturally slipped into an alley, disappearing from sight.
Even after she vanished, the truck kept rattling along, and before long we arrived at Marquis Leonard's estate.
"You bastards. How's my face look?"
At my words, the battalion commanders glanced at my face, then broke into grins and gave me a thumbs-up.
"The most godawful face in the world, Commander."
"Excellent. When it comes time to squeeze money out of someone, an ugly face beats a pretty one every time."
I stepped out of the truck and walked toward the estate.
"Halt! Who—"
My size and my face alone were a threat in themselves. The guard with his pistol drawn tried to stop me, but seeing me stride forward with such confidence, his face went white as paper. He swallowed his dry mouthful of saliva and fell silent.
I approached the guard and smiled politely.
"I'm Commander Volka Adrakin of the Imperial Army's Third Mechanized Shock Infantry Brigade. I'd like to see Marquis Leonard, if you could open the door for me."
"Without an appointment, I cannot—"
"Just open it. When you've got the time. I'm a bit busy right now."
Using my size and my face as leverage, I summoned my magical power and let my killing intent radiate outward. The guard couldn't hold out and collapsed to his knees.
I patted the guard's shoulder and then started pounding on the firmly locked iron gate of the estate—deciding to borrow the strength of a beastman.
"First Battalion Commander. Break this for me."
The bear beastman—First Battalion Commander, a massive brute whose head topped even mine—silently obeyed my order. He walked up to the gate and casually kicked the metal door. It crumpled like it had taken a cannon shot and flew into the distance.
"Let's go in. We're going to have a little chat with the Marquis."
Just ten of us officers and me. But even in the middle of enemy lines, our attitude was insufferably bold.
That way, we stormed into the estate, pushing our hideous faces forward and causing a scene. And in the end—
"What's all this commotion?!"
"Ah! Marquis Leonard! Pleasure to meet you. I'm Adrakin, the Duke of the North. May I have a moment of your time?"
We succeeded in meeting the Marquis.
And, as expected—
"You want to talk to me after stirring up a ruckus like that? What business could I possibly have with such a rude northern hick and his pack of four-legged whelps? Get out! Or I'll have my knights drive you off!"
The Marquis issued an expulsion order. The knights surrounding Marquis Leonard drew their swords simultaneously, and the ora blades began to frost over. A murderous atmosphere.
But I was still smiling.
"I apologize for the disturbance. But let's be honest, Marquis. Even if we'd asked politely, you wouldn't have agreed to see us, would you?"
"Last warning! Commander Volka! If you don't leave right now, you'll see blood!"
The ora blades of the knights flared brighter. Even so, the beastman battalion commanders standing behind me didn't flinch in the slightest. Neither did I.
"Fine. If you really want to chase us off that badly, I suppose I have to leave. But hear this—Marquis Leonard. If you drive us out, the Hellhound Brigade and the Northern Army will demolish the Blood Wall that very day and abandon the North."
The Marquis let out a scoff.
"A guy whose homeland is the North wants to blow up the Blood Wall? What a load of horse shit—"
"The North's done for anyway. Nothing new. But when I went there myself, it was even worse than the rumors. Without the West's support, survival is impossible. North or south, we're doomed either way. I just figured I'd try to save a few more people, at least."
I smiled at Marquis Leonard. The old, shrewd rat bastard. That was Marquis Leonard's impression. But even the eyes of that shrewd old rat seemed overwhelmed by the intensity of the madness radiating from my smile.
"Do you think His Majesty the Emperor will just let you be?"
The rat bastard took a half step back. But I couldn't let the intensity of my madness fade just because the opponent retreated.
"He won't leave me alone. The Emperor asked me to save the North—give support, grant authority, give praise—and then told me to blow up the Blood Wall if I had to. What do you want me to do? I wasn't born a traitor, was I?"
"You have nowhere to run!"
"There's the Kramkin Kingdom, isn't there? They're seriously hoping the empire collapses, and I wouldn't mind defecting there to help bring it down. They know how well we fight—we've been going at it for years."
"...Are you declaring treason right now?"
"Well, yeah. Treason. When you're going to lose either way, you might as well look for a hole to crawl into."
"..."
"You can report it to His Majesty if you want."
Throughout it all, I was smiling. The old Marquis Leonard seemed momentarily speechless.
But a shrewd old rat is no ordinary rat.
"If you really mean that, I can just have you killed right here. A man who's declared treason—killing him on the spot wouldn't violate imperial law."
At the Marquis's signal, the knights raised their ora-blade-glowing swords toward me. The guards who had rushed in upon hearing the commotion aimed their pistols and rifles at us. It was a tense situation, but I didn't lose my smile.
"You can certainly do that. But I wouldn't recommend it."
"Why not?"
"Because this is the West, not the North. If a fight breaks out, I'll just die and that's that. But you, Marquis, will suffer damage to your infrastructure."
"What the hell are you talking about? How many of you do I need to kill for infrastructure damage?"
"More than a few."
The Marquis's expression twitched, then rapidly twisted into something larger.
"You wouldn't dare..."
Before the Marquis could finish, a servant-looking person rushed up to him and muttered urgently. I couldn't make out what was said, but I didn't need to. Screams and the roar of voices were coming from the main gate of the estate.
I glanced that way. And I could tell the adjutant had done exactly as I'd told her.
Thousands of beastmen, armed with rifles, pistols, and sword-off shotguns, were filling the streets.
"Planning a war?! You're insane! You're all going to die!"
Marquis Leonard shouted. I made my smile even sharper and nodded.
"I know. We'll die. But from where I'm standing, it doesn't make a difference. Without the West's support, we're dead either way going back to the North. I already explained that, didn't I?"
I started walking toward Marquis Leonard. The knights kept their swords aimed at me, but I didn't dodge. The tip of the ora-blade-glowing longsword pressed slightly into my body, and I heard the sound of skin burning and blood welling. But I didn't stop.
I erased my smile and stared down at the Marquis. He finally had to wave his hand in panic.
"Stop! Sheathe your swords! Don't kill him!"
I nodded.
"Good. If I die, the beastmen outside will go on a rampage. You'll win a glorious victory—some gunfire, a few swordfights, then it's over. But what do you actually gain by doing that here in the city?"
"Y-you—"
"If a war breaks out in the heart of the city, the West's power weakens. Do you think the East or South will come to your aid? A pack of loose cannons united only by the goal of toppling the throne? I don't think so."
"You're insane!"
"I know. But the situation in the North is enough to drive a man crazy. Marquis. I've got nothing to lose. I'm dead either way, the North's done either way. The West's support is desperately needed. So choose."
I thrust my strategy-weapon-grade ugly face right up to the Marquis. He flinched. As expected. An ugly face can be useful sometimes too.
"Me and my battalion commanders, and the beastmen outside—you want us to trade blows and walk away with nothing but bruises? By the way, even if I die, the Blood Wall gets demolished and the Northern Army and Hellhound Brigade will fly to the Kramkin Kingdom. I already gave the order."
"..."
"Or would you prefer to hand over oil, ammunition, cash, and some gold, and call it even?"
Marquis Leonard squeezed his eyes shut. He seemed to have high blood pressure or something—he rubbed the back of his neck for a long time.
"Take us to the conference room."
I smiled.
"Good thinking."
It took some doing, but I finally managed to get him seated in a conference room chair.