Chapter 125 - A Burden Too Heavy (2)
As Ernest and Robert approached the 1st Company, they could immediately sense the tense atmosphere.
The entire 1st Battalion was on edge due to the prospect of entering the forest, but the 1st Company felt especially sharp and anxious.
"Ernest, Robert."
Baumann, who had been surveying the company's combat preparations with a stern gaze, brightened the moment he saw Ernest and Robert.
He strode over with his familiar smile and extended his hand.
Ernest and Robert both smiled as they shook it.
"You look busy."
"Of course I'm busy. We're about to go into battle."
"But the fighting isn't until tomorrow."
"It might break out today. Anyway, what's up?"
Baumann seemed well aware of just how tense the 1st Company was, but rather than worrying about it, he almost appeared proud.
"We just came to see our little Ferdie."
"Ahaha… Ahem, ahem. Robert, we're officers now, you know. We need to lead our soldiers. We can't lose our authority."
"You were just laughing too." "Anyway, where's Ferdie?" "Heh, follow me."
Baumann, looking a bit embarrassed, fussed with his uniform for no reason and then led them over to Ferdinand.
"We'll be entering here and spending the night. For now, the fighting has paused, and although our attack is scheduled for noon tomorrow, the enemy could strike at any time before then. If they've figured out our timing, they could even launch another assault today—or maybe try a night raid."
Ferdinand wasn't the only one in the 1st Company Commander's tent. Georg was there, along with another young officer who looked like he was probably the 3rd Platoon Leader, and two female senior captains Baltracher.
Before moving into the forest, Ferdinand was making sure his subordinates understood the situation: laying everything out clearly, emphasizing the dangers, and going over things to be cautious about.
When Ernest and Robert entered, Ferdinand glanced at them briefly, then refocused on his briefing.
He pointed to the map with thick, weathered fingers, explaining things without the slightest hesitation.
Even when covering matters that weren't really the concern of a mere company commander, he shared broad, strategic insights about how he expected the battle to unfold.
Ferdinand thoroughly covered nearly every possible scenario, so that even if he became unable to command, everyone would still be able to follow the plan and carry out their duties.
It must have been an exhausting, thankless task. Ferdinand had probably sacrificed sleep, agonizing over all this.
What did it feel like, Ernest wondered, to prepare so thoroughly—just in case you died—so your company wouldn't collapse and the mission would succeed?
With the briefing finished and all the company's officers brought up to speed, Ferdinand finally turned to Ernest and Robert.
"We're about to move out. What brings you here?"
"There's something we need to talk to you about."
"..."
When Ernest spoke in a calm voice, Ferdinand narrowed his eyes slightly.
"As a friend, I mean. Ferdi…nand."
Robert interjected quietly.
Their eyes met, and Ferdinand slowly nodded.
"Stand by and rest."
"Yes, sir."
The Baltrachers and the 3rd Platoon Leader left the tent as they were. The Baltrachers looked relieved, but the 3rd Platoon Leader hesitated and glanced back, seeming to feel a bit left out.
"Are you sure you've got time? We'll be moving out soon."
Georg greeted Ernest and Robert with a smile.
"We finished everything we had to do. Besides, we have to give the Deputy Platoon Leader something to do, don't we?"
Robert chuckled and gave Georg a friendly tap on the shoulder.
"Unlike you guys, who have your hands full with cute Ferdie, we actually share the workload."
"Well… that's…"
Georg glanced at Ferdinand and gave a wry smile. Ferdinand looked like he had a lot to say, but since there wasn't much time, he decided to get straight to the point.
"So, what is it?"
"We're here to pass along a message from our Company Commander."
When Robert shrugged and spoke, Ferdinand's eyebrows drew together a bit.
He wasn't upset—he was simply focusing.
Ferdinand was also a Company Commander like Yurgen, but he respected Yurgen not only as his superior but also as his senior.
Yurgen was a commander who truly deserved that respect.
"There are traps and ambushes set up all throughout the forest. You know that, right?"
"I know."
"And you know that just charging straight in without a plan would be stupid, don't you?"
"Yeah. But you also know that if it's an order, we have to follow it."
"I know, I know."
Ferdinand clearly already understood what Robert was getting at. His sharp gaze looked like it could kill.
"Ohh, our cute Ferdie gets really scary when he looks at me like that. …No, seriously, could you not look at me like that? It's actually terrifying."
"If you're scared, then don't say things like that…"
Robert, intimidated by Ferdinand's glare, retreated a bit. Georg covered his face with his hand and sighed.
Baumann was trying hard not to laugh.
"We're soldiers, and we have an important operation ahead of us. The 1st Company will fight according to orders."
"That's true. Yeah, that's how it should be. But Ferdie, you know this is madness."
"That's just how it looks from our perspective. In the next battle, we have to break through the Bertagne Forest no matter what. If we don't, the war will drag on, and victory will slip further away."
"Hey, hey, hey. Don't act like I said something terrible. For someone who's just a Company Commander, you're talking like you're the Emperor's top general. That's not our job to worry about. If you're the Company Commander, just act like one and focus on leading the Company."
"I am focused on leading the Company. That's why I follow the orders from above and fight."
"How could those bastards in the rear, sipping wine in safety, possibly know anything about what's happening out here in the field?"
"Robert."
"Those guys have probably never even fired a gun at the enemy. You know it too—just how crucial the judgment of a field commander is."
Ferdinand frowned.
Regardless of how unpleasant he found Robert's disrespectful comments about their superiors, he couldn't deny the importance of field command.
"This time, the Regimental Commander will be leading the battle in person."
"Oh, right. Since the Regimental Commander is coming, the Battalion Commander will be there too, probably commanding things from a nice safe spot behind the front lines while we're getting shot at."
"Are you saying we should ignore our superiors' orders?"
"No, I'm not saying we should ignore them. Of course we'll follow orders; I'm just suggesting that, as field commanders, we should make minor adjustments according to urgent situations."
"If there are no instructions granting field commanders discretion, then we must follow orders to the letter."
"And when we end up dying like dogs, who's going to take responsibility for that?"
The sharp back-and-forth between the relentless Ferdinand and the sly Robert suddenly came to a halt.
Ferdinand's tightly pressed lips twitched, but he couldn't bring himself to respond.
Ernest saw the opening created by Robert's persistent nagging and didn't hesitate to step in.
"If your orders get someone killed now, it won't just be some nameless soldier anymore, Ferdinand"
"Enough. Go back now."
At Ernest's calm words, Ferdinand coldly issued an expulsion order. But Ernest didn't stop.
"If Georg and Baumann die following your orders, can you take responsibility?"
"...."
"It's not like there's no other way. If, truly, there was no other option and you had to do it, then... well, it wouldn't be fine, but still. But if there was another way, and you stubbornly led a reckless charge and that happened because of your pride—could you really say you wouldn't regret it?"
Ferdinand glared at Ernest, his eyes blazing.
Ernest met his gaze, eyes still deep and dark.
"We believe in you, Ferdinand."
Just then, Georg spoke up in a firm voice.
"If Ferdinand makes that judgment, it must be right. He's not afraid of dying himself. He's not trying to survive alone—he's trying to fight and win with all of us. Don't lump Ferdinand in with those bastards who only talk a big game, Ernest."
He spoke confidently, showing unwavering faith in Ferdinand. Back in their days at the Military Academy, ever since that moment in their first year when Georg earned Ferdinand's trust, Georg had always sincerely believed in Ferdinand.
There wasn't the slightest hint of doubt in him.
"..."
Ernest met Georg's unwavering gaze, then looked back at Ferdinand.
Ferdinand, who was the recipient of such bright trust from Georg, looked all the more tormented because of it.
Ferdinand was the kind of man who could bravely face his own death. But he was not a man who could calmly face the death of a friend.
If there were a way to save a friend who believed in him so deeply—could Ferdinand really force them to their deaths, simply by following orders?
It's not as if they were asking him not to fight at all—was it really impossible to just slightly delay the timing of the charge?
That small change might be all it took to save friends from running headlong into certain death.
"By now, I'm sure the talk with the 3rd Company is over. Our Company Commander and Jonas went to persuade them together."
"…As a soldier, I will follow orders and fight."
At Ernest's next words, Ferdinand replied in a low, heavy voice.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Even if a friend dies?"
Ferdinand couldn't answer.
"Let's make it back alive and see each other again."
Ernest gave a faint smile and said his goodbyes, then left the tent with Robert.
"Ferdinand. No matter what anyone says, I believe in you. Do what you think is right," Georg said firmly.
Baumann simply stood a step back, silently watching the two of them.
When Ferdinand looked at Georg, Georg's eyes shone as he nodded.
Then, when Ferdinand glanced over at Baumann, Baumann tilted his head slightly and raised his eyebrows with an unreadable expression.
Ferdinand closed his eyes.
Not only Georg, but Baumann as well would follow his decision without complaint.
A soldier must follow orders and fight.
Without that, the intent of a military operation can never be achieved. You absolutely have to fulfill your assigned duty.
"Is that really true?"
But could he really say that, when he hadn't been able to answer Ernest's question?
Maybe he shouldn't have become Company Commander. Maybe coming to the field at all was a mistake.
The weight of his friends' lives in his hands threatened to crush Ferdinand's shoulders.
And yet, even so, Ferdinand did not regret the choice he'd made at such a young age.
Rather than letting his friends die meaningless deaths under an incompetent officer somewhere he couldn't even see, it was better to bear the burden of authority and responsibility himself, and search for even a slightly better path.
Even if it felt like he might drown and die under the weight of that responsibility.
"So, how did it go?"
"We did our best, at least."
"Yeah, but did it work or not? Speak clearly."
"For now... it didn't work."
"Damn it!"
"But I feel like it might, though..."
"Oh, for crying out loud—did it or didn't it?"
Yurgen felt like he was going to lose his mind as Ernest and Robert kept giving vague answers back and forth.
"That's for Ferdie to decide."
"I think it'll work."
"Sigh, you think?"
"Doesn't it seem like it might?"
"Weren't we a little too pushy? He might just dig in his heels."
"Ferdinand's not stubborn about things like this."
"You and he are the Twin Pillars—the most stubborn among our peers, aren't you?"
"That's not stubbornness. That's dignity. Black is a man's color, after all."
Ernest and Robert's nonsensical banter was met with a tired look from Yurgen.
"The 3rd Company has agreed to join us."
Jonas, accustomed to these situations, said this with a slight smile.
Then, looking back at Yurgen, he continued.
"We didn't get a definite answer, but honestly, this isn't bad. If Ferdinand had given a clear answer, that would have been a definite refusal. He's just that stubborn and hard-headed."
At Jonas's words, Yurgen ran a hand down his face.
So, it was good enough for now.
"I was scared out of my mind. Seriously thought I'd get punched."
"It would have been fine if you hadn't gone on about 'cute Ferdie.'"
"Thanks to that, though, we managed to shake him up."
"I'm not sure if that was shaking him up or just provoking him."
"Either way, it worked, right?"
"It worked."
They hadn't just done enough—they truly gave it their all.
Sometimes it feels like persuading a friend is even harder than fighting the enemy.
But considering it's Ferdinand Hartmann we're talking about, achieving even this much is nothing short of a miracle.
Honestly, what they did was pretty underhanded.
They forced Ferdinand, who was already tormented after witnessing a friend's death, to make a cowardly choice by making him consider the lives of friends fighting under his command.
"I'll talk to him separately later. For now, good job, everyone. We're leaving soon, so go check on your men."
With a wave of his hand, Yurgen casually wrapped up the conversation. It was a signal for everyone to clear out—he wanted some time alone.
Each platoon leader headed off to their units to do a final check. But thanks to the competent non-commissioned officers, there really wasn't much left for them to do.
"Hey, lend me your mirror so I can shave."
"What? Right now?"
Just then, Robert walked over and out of the blue asked to borrow a mirror so he could shave.
Ernest was so taken aback, he nearly forgot to breathe.
"My chin keeps itching."
"You unsanitary bastard. Why didn't you just shave earlier, or at least keep yourself cleaned up like Jonas?"
"So are you going to lend me the mirror or not?"
"We don't have time. We could be leaving any minute."
"If you'd just let me borrow it instead of arguing, I would've finished shaving by now."
"Hurry up and get it over with!"
After borrowing the mirror from Ernest, Robert dashed off to his tent and began shaving in a rush.
He washed his face with rainwater, lathered up with soap, and then started carefully shaving his beard with a razor.
"...Huh? What the heck is this?"
That's when Robert realized there was something wrong with his chin. He hadn't noticed before because of his beard, but now, the spot he'd been scratching at all this time was completely red and inflamed.
Alarmed, Robert kept pressing his face up to the little mirror, examining his chin.
But no matter how closely he looked, that ruined patch of skin wasn't healing anytime soon.
"Jitman! Where'd that bastard Jitman go!"
"Y-yes! I'm coming!"
"Hurry up and get out here! We're about to leave!"
"Ah, wait..."
Yurgen shouted at the top of his lungs as he searched for Robert. Robert, with only the right side of his chin shaved, couldn't do anything either way, and in the end, Ernest grabbed him and dragged him outside.
"Wait! Let me finish shaving the rest of my chin!"
"I told you to hurry up, didn't I? You idiot!"
Robert pleaded desperately, but with the 1st Battalion about to head into the forest any moment, there was no way they could wait for him to finish shaving.
"You little coward! When the great Company Commander calls, you should come running immediately!"
"N-no! Company Commander! It's just that—!"
Robert tried to cover his chin with his hand and make an excuse, but he realized saying he was late because he'd been shaving right before the start of the plan would only make things worse, so he couldn't say anything.
"What's with you? Now you can't even show your face?"
Yurgen frowned at Robert, who kept hiding his mouth and chin.
"That's right, Robert, what do you think you're doing, acting so disrespectfully in front of your superior? Move your hand right now."
"N-no, I can't!"
At that, Ernest grabbed Robert's arm and revealed his face.
"..."
"Oh, you fool. Nice job. Tsk tsk tsk..."
Yurgen clicked his tongue as he looked at Robert, who had only shaved the right side of his chin, shaking his head at the ridiculous sight.
Then, noticing how red Robert's jaw had become, Yurgen smacked his own forehead.
"Later, go ask for some medicine."
"Medicine? Are they giving it out?"
"I don't know exactly what it is, but they hand out some ointment. If you put it on, it works pretty well for skin problems. Go later, later. We have to head out right now."
Despite sounding irritated, Yurgen was actually being quite kind. Once you get a skin rash, it's hard to get rid of, and it can quickly spread all over your body in the blink of an eye. Worst of all, it could be an infectious disease that might pass to others. While it didn't seem severe yet, leaving it untreated would only make it worse. It needed attention as soon as possible.
"But isn't this urgent right now...?"
"So you want the whole battalion to wait around just for you?"
This is this, and that is that. What were they supposed to do when they had to leave right now? He'd told him so many times to shave in advance, but he never listened, and now he was making a fuss. Both Yurgen and Ernest sighed.
"What if my handsome face ends up ruined because of this…"
Grumbling, Robert stood at the front of the 2nd Platoon.
"Heheheh…"
"You punks! Is your superior's face really that funny?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Damn it. Well, it is kind of funny."
Not just the 2nd Platoon, but everyone was laughing at Robert's half-shaved face.
All things considered, the mood wasn't too bad.
This was thanks to the warm personalities of the company officers and the recent victory in battle.
"We're moving out!"
Soon after, the 1st Battalion left the campsite and gathered at the edge of the forest.
The 2nd and 3rd Battalions did the same.
If the enemy had a change of heart, they could break through the forest, attack the campsite, set fire to the supplies, and strike from the rear in an emergency.
To prevent this, the Cavalry Regiment was out scouting diligently.
So they waited some more, and only when the Regimental Commander arrived did the 13th Regiment finally enter the forest.
The clouds had thinned enough that sunlight filtered weakly through, but the forest remained damp and dark.
The 13th Regiment advanced through the woods without much trouble. The rain had mostly let up, no longer pounding against the leaves as before. Passing beneath the trees offered brief shelter from the drizzle. Though it was still dim, visibility was relatively good.
"We should've brought the bigwigs into the forest back when the rain was pouring—then they'd know what real hardship feels like."
"Come on, the higher-ups shouldn't have to suffer through anything so rough."
"Yeah, damn it, it's always us lowborn bastards who have to put our lives on the line and deal with all the misery. Spit."
Soldiers and officers of the 13th Regiment who'd experienced combat in torrential rain grumbled under their breath, glancing irritably at the regimental flag.
Since the Regimental Commander had brought out the Headquarters, it made sense they were carrying the flag—but seeing them dote on it, worried it might get caught on a tree branch and tear, was enough to make anyone's blood boil.
A horse galloping westward through a wheat field: that was the 2nd Corps insignia, symbolizing their resolve to expand the Empire's territory west by conquering Aeblon and Belliang.
Beneath that, a round shield overlaid with a spear pointing westward—this mark belonged to the 5th Division, the vanguard of the 2nd Corps.
And on the round shield, the golden arrowhead: this was the insignia of the 13th Regiment.
Each battalion also carried a small battalion flag with its number written on it beneath the regimental flag, but unfortunately, the 1st Battalion had no flag.
The previous Battalion Commander had dragged the Battalion Headquarters into the forest and was killed, losing the flag to the enemy in the process.
Unless they recover the flag or decisively defeat the enemy and wipe away that stigma, the 1st Battalion cannot carry a flag.
For nobles and officers, a unit's flag is far more than just a banner.
Even seeing the flag fall to the ground is enough to make them spit blood in outrage.
Losing the flag is the ultimate disgrace, and to erase that dishonor, they would fight to the death without hesitation.
The loss of a flag leaves an indelible shame on a unit's history, while recovering a lost flag becomes a shining achievement that will be remembered with honor.
If, in this battle, they could thoroughly rout the enemy and reclaim the flag, or take it back directly from the enemy, it would be an accomplishment that would immortalize Lieutenant Colonel Levin Ort's military career as the current Battalion Commander.
However, Levin himself cared little about recovering the flag, and he was filled with frustration—not only at the Regimental Commander, but at the fact that he'd had to come into the forest himself.
'This isn't a situation where having the Battalion Commander or Regimental Commander join the fighting will boost morale and turn the tide.
Running around needlessly just creates a glaring weakness, making it impossible to carry out bold operations and possibly even lowering morale.'
If you pull soldiers out to "defend the Command Post," that just means fewer troops on the front lines.
And if the enemy manages to slip into the rear and attack, you might even end up having to call in front-line forces just to protect the Command Post. Should the Command Post be attacked, the Regimental Commander killed, and the flag captured, then even the bravest soldiers would lose heart and start to flee.
If this were a battle on the open plains where everyone could see the flag, it wouldn't be so bad for the Regimental Commander to lead from the front. But in a forest like this, the unit flag is invisible, and there isn't a moment to spare to look back, since the enemy could jump out from anywhere at any moment.
It might be excusable for a Battalion Commander, but the Regimental Commander coming out in person is sheer lunacy.
In a situation like this, higher-ups should trust capable field commanders and focus on supporting them from the rear.
'Now I might end up risking my neck for a flag I never even lost myself.'
Levin felt bitter inside.
This was all happening because of the Regimental Commanders' ambitions.
Not only the 1st Battalion of the 13th Regiment, but battalions from other regiments also lost their flags in battle.
Regimental Commanders were desperate to recover their flags.
They believed that with a decisive victory in this battle, they could drive the Belliang Army out of the forest, and so they threw themselves into the fighting, eager to leave a record of having personally participated in the battle to reclaim their flag.
Just for something like that, men who had reached the rank of Colonel were recklessly sticking their heads into obvious traps like foolish beasts.
What was even worse was that higher command actually approved this. In their eyes, this madness probably seemed like proof of a soldier's spirit—fearlessly fighting without regard for death.
***
"If you're careful, there shouldn't be any trouble using the powder guns," Ernest said softly, having noticed the rain had let up.
"Damn it. I know," Yurgen replied, a little irritated.
"They're not as good as Balt Guns, but powder guns are still more than enough to kill a man. On top of that, I'm sure they've prepared plenty to defend themselves. They'll be holed up in their outposts, loading safely and firing away for all they're worth."
"They might even give the batteries meant for the Balt Guns to the Baltracher."
"Is anything about this situation getting better?"
"Well, at least with the rain letting up, we don't have to worry about our toes rotting in our boots anymore. That's something, isn't it?"
"I suppose so. Still, I'm scared. I'm scared."
The 2nd Company of the 1st Battalion, seasoned with its own share of battle experience, found their spirits sharply plummeting the moment they entered the forest.
Still, somehow, they managed to keep up a somewhat decent atmosphere.
As the 13th Regiment pressed deeper into the woods, they finally stopped when the damn regimental flag and the damn regimental commander set up a command post.
Leaving those damn bastards behind, the companies once again moved forward on their own.
"So why the hell are those guys even here?"
"It's not like we'd know if you asked us…"
"I wish they'd at least properly supply us. Like with cheese. Or butter."
"That is an excellent point. And while we're at it, some fresh meat and a cook would be great too. Maybe even build us a castle wall so it's easier to fight the enemy."
"Some money would be nice, right?"
"I've got plenty of money, though."
"What a jerk. You shouldn't say stuff like that just because you're loaded."
"Still, the more money, the better."
"Exactly, that's it."
Yurgen and Robert grumbled to each other, then burst out laughing. Ernest sighed and shrugged his shoulders while Jonas smiled a little.
The 13th Regiment's troops successfully joined up with the 14th and 15th Regiments, who were holding the front line. Instead of widening the front, they decided to reinforce its thickness.
"Krieger."
"Yes."
"I'm going to go have a word. Keep an eye on the guys while I'm gone—you're the Deputy Company Commander."
"Understood."
Once they were deployed to the front and finished setting up and getting sorted, Yurgen immediately left the company in Ernest's hands and headed to the 1st Company.
He needed to have a clear talk with Ferdinand now, so they could react quickly if things went south, rather than hesitating and ruining everything when the moment came.
Ernest checked not just on his own 1st Platoon, but also on the 2nd Platoon and 3rd Platoon, and even looked in on Baltrachers.
He scanned the frontline and exchanged information with officers from other regiments who had arrived earlier.
Word was that the Rangers were slowly moving ahead, carefully scouting and clearing traps.
But progress was so painfully slow that, when the order to charge inevitably came, the soldiers would have to push forward, dying as they advanced.
Yurgen came back quite late.
It was just as Ernest, after working nonstop, was finally about to get a bit of rest.
"You have a real knack for showing up the moment my work ends, don't you?"
"Oh, really? Well, good job. Well done."
Thud, thud.
Yurgen laughed at Ernest's remark and gave him a couple of hearty taps on his helmeted head. He never doubted that Ernest would do a good job. He trusted that if it was Ernest, things would go well.
"So, what did he say?"
"He said he knows what's going on, at least. Is that a good sign? That guy looks like a bear, but he's actually pretty clever when it comes to reading people."
"Ferdinand is extremely smart. He spent three years as second place only because of me, but if we'd been in different years, he would've been top student all three years. In any case, it's a very good sign. Even though he said it like that, it means he's already made up his mind. If he hadn't, he would've flatly refused."
"You really know your friend well."
"Because he's my friend."
It seemed that Ferdinand had decided to follow Yurgen's plan and postpone the battle.
He just couldn't bring himself to say it clearly, since it went against his own convictions.
Ernest knew he had done something terrible to Ferdinand. But he didn't want to die, and he didn't want to lose his friend either.
"Krieger."
"Yes."
Yurgen plopped down next to Ernest, who was sitting and resting, and called to him quietly When Ernest replied, Yurgen whispered quietly to him.
"Stay sharp. If things go sideways, you might have to take command of our company."
"If it comes to that, wouldn't it probably mean that as the platoon leader, I'd already be out of commission first?"
"Don't say crap like that. Why don't you just give your esteemed Company Commander a nice, proper 'Yes, sir' for once?"
"…Yes, sir."
Ernest mumbled softly. Yurgen said nothing, just pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth.
They sat together for a while, silently gazing out at the rain-soaked forest.
After some time, Ernest got up and went to check on the 1st Platoon.
Yurgen, still biting the unlit cigarette in his teeth, tapped it idly before tucking it back into his tobacco box.
"..."
He stared quietly into the battered cigarette box, gave a faint smile, then closed it. Getting up, he dusted the mud off his raincoat and walked away.
Beneath the makeshift roof meant to keep out the rain, the last traces of warmth lingered in the air before fading away, leaving only a chilly emptiness.