The Last Ice Chocolate and the Misunderstood Lieutenant Colonel
Serian stepped through the doors of the empire's most renowned dessert café, Sweet Crown, for what she believed would be the final time. The dreamlike week of leave had come to an end, and this was her last evening of freedom before returning to the hellish reality of work. Yet what greeted her was not the familiar scent of cocoa and sugar, but a firmly shut door and a sign that read Closed.
"This can't be happening…."
Serian pressed her forehead against the glass door, utterly devastated. At that moment, the pastry chef who had been cleaning up for the night spotted her with a troubled expression.
"I'm truly sorry, miss, but we're closed for the day."
The chef spoke politely, but Serian couldn't even lift her head. Her desperate voice leaked through the crack in the door.
"P-please… just one cup. This is my last supper…."
The pastry chef was about to firmly refuse when he suddenly froze. Last supper. The weight of those words struck him deeply. He unconsciously studied the girl's face once more. Her unusually pale skin, eyes that seemed somehow empty, and the deep sigh that carried the burden of the entire world.
"Starting tomorrow… I might never be able to drink it again."
The quiet addition to her words drove a massive wedge of misunderstanding into the chef's mind.
Could she… have an incurable disease?
Just as sympathy began to bloom, Serian pulled something from her pocket. It was a finely crafted silver canteen with a subtle, elegant sheen.
"Could you at least pour it in here? Please…."
The chef's gaze lingered on the small, intricate emblem engraved on the canteen. He didn't recognize which family it belonged to. But the precision of the carving, the faded luster that spoke of generations, made it unmistakable—this was the symbol of an ancient, noble house passed down through bloodlines.
In that instant, every piece fell into place in the chef's mind, forming one tragic narrative.
The cherished daughter of a noble family that possesses everything in the world… standing here in the dead of night, clinging to the door of a humble shop.
She, who should be enjoying lavish banquets and priceless delicacies in glittering halls, now stood with that deathly pale face, begging for a mere chocolate drink as her last supper.
How tragic… and how beautifully poignant.
The silver canteen in her hand was undoubtedly a symbol of the wealth and honor she had known. Yet all that glory meant nothing before death—it was merely cold metal. Neither the family's vast fortune nor the finest physicians could save her life. And so, leaving behind a brilliant but hollow existence, she had come here in her final moments seeking one small, genuine joy.
The chef trembled at the tragic beauty of it all. He made up his mind. He would protect the final dignity of a fellow human being.
With a solemn expression, he unlocked the door.
"…Very well. I will pour my heart and soul into creating the very best cup for you."
Thick, rich chocolate poured into the canteen, topped carefully with soft milk cream and fragrant cinnamon. The chef handed it over with both hands, his voice grave.
"May you find peace…."
The chef's heartfelt blessing for a noble lady facing her final days.
I survived…
Serian, completely oblivious to the misunderstanding, hugged the canteen to her chest with an expression of pure bliss. This was her elixir of life. Her only hope for enduring the hell that would begin tomorrow.
By the time she entered the Armaments Bureau's jurisdiction, the guard's booming salute rang out.
"Loyalty!"
Serian gave a half-hearted wave in return. In the distance, the massive building of the Bureau loomed. A cold chill and sweet aroma wafted from the canteen in her arms.
Heh, this is it. Nothing beats ending a vacation like this.
She shook the canteen with satisfaction.
Good thing I brought it just in case.
It had been a graduation gift from a distant relative. She'd thought it was unnecessarily flashy and shoved it in a corner, but now that she was using it, the seal was surprisingly sturdy and nothing leaked.
Who would've thought it'd come in handy like this? Everything has its use, I guess.
…Of course, her thoughts were a million light-years away from the chef's noble imagination. They were purely practical.
"Ugh, I really don't want to go to work. I wonder what they'll make me do tomorrow."
With that thought in mind, she turned a dark corner—and slammed straight into something solid.
Thud—
Crash!
The ice chocolate the chef had specially prepared for her flew from her hand. The contents drew a beautiful arc through the air before pouring down onto the spotless white uniform of the person in front of her.
Nooo…! My last ice chocolate!
The other person was Kaizen von Walter, dressed in his perfectly pressed uniform. He frowned as he looked down at his clothes.
"Where exactly were you looking while walking? Neglecting to watch your front is a failure of basic military discipline…."
He reflexively slipped into his authoritative military tone, but stopped short the moment he saw her face. Silver hair and a youthful face. She couldn't be more than twenty. Yet her civilian clothes and overall aura made it clear she wasn't an ordinary girl. Especially since this was a military zone. The prestigious Valhalla Knight Academy, which trained the empire's elite, was right nearby.
…A cadet? Or maybe a freshly commissioned second lieutenant.
Kaizen's mind quickly ran the calculations. Either way, she was a junior far beneath him. He cleared his throat and continued in a lecturing tone.
"Are you a new recruit? Even on a holiday evening, this lack of military discipline is unacceptable. Wearing civilian clothes within the compound…."
But Serian wasn't listening to him at all. She was staring at the puddle of ice chocolate on the ground, lost in deep despair.
What a waste…
Her normally cold, expressionless face twisted slightly in sorrow. However, Kaizen interpreted the sight completely differently.
What is this insolent attitude?
Despite the fact that he was a senior officer—a lieutenant colonel—she offered no apology and simply stood there in silence. And the way she frowned while being scolded—
Kaizen nearly sighed. He'd heard rumors that the newer cadets from the academy lacked discipline lately, but he hadn't expected it to be this bad.
She must be from a high-ranking noble family.
This was a military organization where hierarchy was everything. No matter how noble one's birth, once you stepped inside, you obeyed your superiors without question. As an elite of the Walter family, he could not tolerate such rudeness. He would have to teach this undisciplined soldier some proper etiquette.
"Hey!"
Serian finally snapped out of it.
"…Yes?"
"Yes? Don't you know how to give your name, rank, and unit? What class are you?"
"…Class? I'm from the 987th… sir?"
Of course, she meant the graduating class of the Cardinal Magic Academy.
Asking for my class out of nowhere…
It was only then that Serian realized what he was asking. Oh, he thinks I'm a soldier. Correcting him now seemed like too much hassle.
But to Kaizen, her answer only confirmed his suspicions.
987th…
Just as he thought. She was a junior from far below him.
I need to correct her behavior properly.
He launched into a long lecture about military posture, uniform regulations, and proper respect for superiors. Serian, however, was lost in her own thoughts.
That chocolate stain on his shirt won't come out easily. Since it's dairy, hot water will only set it worse. I should rinse it in cold water first, then scrub it with neutral detergent… Oh, but there's no detergent here. Right.
She frowned while staring at Kaizen's shirt. To him, however, it looked entirely different. He assumed she had finally noticed the lieutenant colonel insignia on his uniform and frozen in shock. Her pale face looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her slightly parted lips seemed filled with fear.
At that pitiful sight, Kaizen's heart softened just a little.
"Ahem… I'm busy today, so I'll stop here. Make sure to stay sharp from now on."
And with that unpleasant encounter, her dreamlike week of leave came to a close.
Serian flopped onto the sofa in her lab and muttered.
"Ugh, I'm so tired. I really don't want to go to that meeting tomorrow~"
She had already completely forgotten about the rude soldier she'd met on the street.
The next morning, in the Armaments Bureau's main conference room.
The first official meeting for the creation of the empire's new blade—the 1st Special Mobile Battalion—was underway.
Standing outside the conference room door, Kaizen adjusted his uniform with a slightly stiff expression.
I'm finally going to meet him.
The genius development officer that General Clausewitz had praised endlessly. He hadn't had the chance to see the man's face during his leave, but he'd heard all the rumors circulating throughout the Bureau.
A genius of the century. The youngest 4-star mage from one of the five great magic families. Even knights were said to be impressed by his martial prowess. To be appointed as the chief development officer for a project upon which the empire's fate rested at such a young age… There were even whispers that he was already being groomed as the next vice director of the Bureau.
In short, he was a man carrying the future of the empire on his shoulders.
It can't hurt to build a good relationship with someone like that.
Kaizen took a light breath and flashed a confident smile. He would make a perfect first impression. With that resolve, he opened the conference room door and stepped inside.
"You're here."
The heavy silence in the room was broken by General Clausewitz. Every high-ranking imperial officer and key member of the development team turned their eyes toward Kaizen at once.
The general introduced him.
"Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Colonel Kaizen von Walter, who will serve as deputy commander of the 1st Special Mobile Battalion."
Kaizen stood ramrod straight, clicked his heels, and gave a thunderous salute.
"Loyalty! I swear on the honor of the Walter family that I will forge this unit into the empire's new blade!"
His confident voice drew satisfied nods from several generals.
Clausewitz gestured toward the seat of honor.
"And this is Serian Elhardt, the chief development officer in charge of this project. From now on, all your plans must be closely coordinated with Officer Elhardt's technical guidance."
Anticipation flickered in Kaizen's eyes. What would this young genius who excelled in both literary and military arts look like? Filled with both respect and confidence, he turned toward the illustrious chief development officer.
But there, chin resting in her hand with a bored expression, sat the insolent new recruit he had met on the street yesterday.
Kaizen's confident face froze solid in an instant.
This… what the hell is going on.
His mind went completely blank at the sudden situation. Then… could this person be the one the general had been talking about? That genius development officer?
"What is it, Lieutenant Colonel Walter? Why aren't you greeting her?"
Clausewitz's low voice struck his ear.
No. I must be seeing things.
Kaizen desperately tried to deny reality and looked again. But no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes, the person sitting there was unmistakably the girl from yesterday.
At that moment—Serian, noticing Kaizen staring intently at her, widened her eyes.
"Ah."
A short gasp. Cold sweat ran down Kaizen's spine.
Surely she—
Serian tilted her head slightly and said,
"You look familiar… have we met somewhere before?"
She remembers! She remembers everything from yesterday perfectly!
As if hammering the final nail into his despairing premonition, she added,
"Have we met somewhere before?"
The question was thrown out so innocently and casually. To Kaizen, it sounded more terrifying than any threat.
There's no doubt about it! That cold gaze… and that faint, chilling smile at the corner of her lips!
It was clearly a menacing warning that said, I remember your face perfectly.
Kaizen stood rooted to the spot, cold sweat pouring down his face. The despair that his military career, his family's honor—everything—was over washed over him.
Of course, Serian had only said it because the face seemed vaguely familiar, and she wasn't particularly interested either way.