Chapter 138 - Death and Honor Are Not the Same (2)
After an unwanted battle of nerves with Bailey during the morning meeting, Ernest no longer argued with Bailey's words.
He'd realized that the relationship between Bailey and himself had veered off into a territory where logic and reason no longer applied.
No matter what Ernest said, it only managed to irritate Bailey further.
So, even if Bailey behaved unreasonably or spitefully, it was best to just agree politely and move on.
However, this gave rise to another problem—but from Ernest's perspective, it wasn't an issue, and in fact, he hadn't even noticed it.
"2nd Company Commander."
"Yes, 3rd Company Commander."
"You really seem to be good at everything."
"Thank you."
"Hahaha. How can a man be so perfect? I never see you make a mistake."
"That doesn't sound like a compliment…"
"You just figured that out?"
In the end, Andersen felt compelled to discreetly clue Ernest in.
It was obvious now—Bailey was singling Ernest out with his petty spite.
If Ernest would just slip up now and then, struggle a little, complain to someone, and even bow and scrape to Bailey, maybe that would help ease Bailey's mood.
But this infuriatingly competent bastard handled every task flawlessly, then reported in with a straight face, "It's all taken care of," leaving no chance for Bailey to feel satisfied.
It wasn't just that he got the work done—he would even meet, or surpass, the impossibly high standards Bailey set out of spite, so there really was nothing to criticize.
It was infuriating—enough to make you want to tear your hair out.
It got to the point where not only Bailey, but even the battalion staff officers were shaking their heads, saying he was just too much to handle.
Of course, by now, no one was questioning Ernest's abilities.
After all, even Captain Hans Schum, the operations officer about to make major, couldn't fend off Bailey's pettiness as perfectly as Ernest could.
"So you're saying I should intentionally fail missions my superior gives me, look all dejected and miserable, just to make him happy? When, in wartime, any of us could die at any moment?"
"Hmm… When you put it that way, I don't really have a comeback."
Faced with Ernest's reasonable answer, Andersen found himself at a loss for words, too.
Now, if Ernest ever failed to live up to Bailey's high standards, Bailey wouldn't just laugh it off.
He'd double down, determined to wring every last drop from Ernest's soul.
And on top of that, making a mistake during wartime could leave a serious stain on your record.
"Well, we've come too far for all that anyway. I shouldn't have brought it up. Just keep doing what you've been doing."
In the end, even Andersen gave up completely on trying to improve the tense, eggshell-walking atmosphere of the battalion.
"At any rate, your abilities are being recognized. Even if people grumble, there's nothing they can really say."
"…."
Ernest could only sigh at Andersen's words.
He'd truly done his best to get along with everyone and avoid any friction.
Following the advice from Thomas and Benzen, Ernest tried his best not to come across as arrogant, aiming to earn genuine respect and trust.
But because his promotions had come far too quickly, no matter how hard Ernest tried, the misunderstandings never cleared up.
Now, he found himself living out what he'd believed as a child: "As long as you have irreplaceable abilities, that's all that matters."
'This must have been what Father went through, too.'
It was only after a long time that Ernest truly understood why Haires had taught him the way he did.
No matter how desperately you try to fit in with those around you, war is a special situation that makes it impossible to hide your talent—doing so would just set you up to die.
Haires was an exceptionally wise man.
He knew exactly how talented he was.
He did everything he could to get along, but when it didn't work, he finally just gave up.
If you're surrounded by idiots whose brains are only half-functioning, and even that half is paralyzed by envy and jealousy, there's no way to truly get along with them.
It's better to just focus on doing your own work well!
"Don't let it get you down. Those guys sitting around playing with models like it's some kind of kiddie game might not care, but real soldiers who risk their lives in battle truly admire people like you."
As Ernest let out a heavy sigh of frustration, Andersen grinned at him.
With his neat bald head and the menacing veins bulging on his forehead, he looked intimidating enough to start screaming and charge at Ernest at any moment.
"If the 3rd Company Commander tells the staff officers they're just playing house with their models, word will get around fast."
"Kuhaha! Go ahead, I'd love to see what they say!"
At Ernest's curt response, Andersen laughed like a berserker chopping down an enemy's neck with an axe and slapped Ernest hard on the shoulder.
Leaving Andersen's laughter behind, Ernest grumbled to himself like any ordinary seventeen-year-old boy as he made his way back to the 2nd Company.
By the time the scents of summer began to fill the air, the work of building a road through the Bertagne Forest was finally finished.
The 6th and 7th Divisions had already moved out onto the plains and were attacking and capturing several fortresses and towns, so the commanders of the lagging 5th Division were growing restless.
"Damn it! At this rate, all we're going to do is conquer some rural backwater and be done!"
Even though they'd be crossing the forest by car and racing across the plains the very next day, the staff of the 1st Battalion couldn't hide their impatience.
Bailey tried to hide it, but it was clear that he was just as worked up as the others.
Winning battles in the field was certainly good for one's record, but it just didn't compare to capturing strategic strongholds like fortresses or towns.
Whether it's a fortress or a city, it belongs to whoever gets there first.
After all, there's no point worrying about how difficult the battle will be.
Belliang's ability to wage war was all but gone.
Trying to defend their fortresses and towns at this point would only lead to getting beaten and surrendering—there was nothing else they could do.
"From now on, we'll be fighting real battles, so we can't keep up this level of training."
"Is that something we should be happy about or not?"
"Training is better than real combat. At least in training… you almost never get killed."
"How is it that nothing ever gets better?"
On the other hand, the infantry companies, who would have to face the enemy directly, couldn't welcome this turn of events at all.
No matter how weak the enemy might be, a battle was still a battle. And when there was fighting, casualties were inevitable.
There was no guarantee you wouldn't be one of them.
Robert kept grumbling at Ernest's words.
Ernest could only force a bitter smile.
Truly, nothing was getting any better.
"I heard there's a ban on looting—is that true?"
Simon, who had been listening to Company Commander Ernest, asked quietly.
Ernest nodded.
"Looting is forbidden."
"If you say looting is forbidden, then…?"
Billim caught a subtle hint in Ernest's words and asked cautiously. Ernest replied in a flat voice.
"His Majesty the Emperor is the legitimate and sole ruler of this entire continent, so all lands and peoples are subjects of the Empire. That means, if we loot Belliang, which we are about to occupy, it would be the same as looting the Empire itself."
"So they're just putting it that way to cover it up?"
Robert, who had been listening to Ernest, cut in quietly.
"So where do you think they'll find people to farm those vast Belliang plains and tend the livestock? If there's looting or massacre, the population will shrink, and the Belliang people will either stop working or run away. What they really want is to coax them into working hard through persuasion."
Ernest answered Robert's point, spelling out the truth.
"And since the land and people of Belliang, once occupied by the army, become Imperial territory and Imperial subjects, the Imperial military can legally conscript them. That's little different from looting, really. Still, things like murder, arson, and rape are forbidden under Imperial law, so make sure to warn the soldiers strictly about that."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll say it again: you really need to be careful to hammer that into them."
Ernest repeated himself to Billim and Simon, who responded dutifully.
"Conquering Belliang is absolutely necessary to improve the Empire's ability to feed itself, and the higher-ups won't just stand by if we capture Belliang and then fail to produce the amount of food they expect."
Ernest spoke in a stern voice.
"For now, we'll be carrying out conscription that's practically the same as looting in order to maintain the army's fighting strength, but our role is to be saviors and liberators for the poor serfs of Belliang. The exact policy hasn't been announced yet, but most likely they'll implement land reform."
"L-Land reform?"
Bruno, who had been quietly listening, burst out in surprise.
"Yes, land reform."
"Uh, that's… that's good, right?"
Bruno wasn't sure his understanding was correct, as his education was limited.
"Depending on your perspective, yes, it can be a good thing."
"...Could you explain that in simpler terms?"
Bruno scratched his head sheepishly at Ernest's ambiguous words. Ernest decided to break it down a bit more.
"Right now in Belliang, the royal family, the nobility, and a handful of wealthy landowners own almost all the land, right?"
"Yes, that's true."
"Well, they're going to redistribute that land to the serfs who actually work it and farm."
"Oh!"
Bruno clapped his hands in admiration at Ernest's explanation. He looked genuinely happy at that moment.
"In return, they'll probably impose taxes that are unimaginably high. For the next few years, practically everything the serfs earn will go straight to taxes. Of course, the hope is that one day, the land will officially become theirs, so they'll have a reason to work hard. But whether they can endure such heavy taxes—that remains to be seen."
"Still, that's something! Just having the chance to own your own land is enough!"
"And this will also drastically reduce the influence of the royal family and nobility, give the commoners a sense of loyalty to the Empire, and prevent Belliang from uniting and trying to break away. After all, if you just grit your teeth, pay the taxes, and farm long enough, you'll get your own land—why bother with independence?"
"Exactly! Why would anyone want independence? Belliang will be much better off under the Empire's rule!"
"Well, I'm not so sure about that..."
Ernest gave a wry smile at Bruno's buoyant words. It was clear that Bruno still hadn't realized just how ruthless the Emperor and the Empire could be. After all, who could even guess how heavy the taxes would be, coming from an Empire crazy enough to wage this kind of senseless war—not just once, but twice.
"Did headquarters tell you all that?"
Billim looked at Ernest curiously.
Ernest seemed to know suspiciously detailed information.
There was no reason for headquarters to share their colonial policies with a mere company commander.
"Why would they tell a lowly company commander anything? He just figured it out himself, like the sly fox he is."
Before Ernest could answer, Robert let out a long sigh and spoke.
"Second Lieutenant Jitman, that's insubordination."
"Yeah, yeah. You're right. Anyone could figure it out if they just thought about it for a second. Sure. Of course. We're just idiots who can't even come up with something that obvious."
"Put on your military pack and go run exactly twenty laps over there."
"Oh, come on! We're about to go into battle, and you want to waste your subordinate's strength on laps?"
"Damn it. That's right."
Ernest and Robert exchanged small smiles. When Yurgen had ordered Ernest to put on his pack and run, Ernest had snapped back at him just like that.
"So, you're saying the Company Commander just pieced all this together himself?"
Billim asked again, awestruck.
Before Ernest could reply, Robert shook his head in dismay.
"If you consider the intentions behind the war, the characteristics of the region, and the orders from above, anyone could arrive at the same conclusion."
"..."
If it really were something anyone could do, the world wouldn't have ended up like this.
"That's why, truly—no matter what, I won't tolerate any criminal acts."
Ernest emphasized again.
"It's not just me—you'll get no mercy from the higher-ups. Any crime against the people of the Empire will be regarded as a grave offense, and the punishment will be severe. So, no matter what happens, you absolutely must not cause any kind of trouble."
"Yes, understood."
"Robert, that goes for you, too. Aren't you going to answer when your illustrious Company Commander is speaking?"
"Yes, yes. Understood. Of course."
"You really should go and carry your pack. No, carry mine instead."
In any case, the 2nd Company repeatedly warned its soldiers about this matter. Naturally, the story spread to the 1st and 3rd Companies as well.
"How did you know all that and speak so confidently?"
After hearing the story, Andersen came straight to Ernest to ask. He was intensely curious about the source of Ernest's incredibly detailed account.
Ernest explained that it was just conjecture, and Andersen couldn't help but be deeply impressed by this young officer who was clearly far from ordinary—perhaps even abnormal.
"Whew! I wondered how far you'd go, but you've really taken it all the way!"
Maybe it was more a sigh than genuine admiration.
"The Battalion Commander is going to be delighted when he hears about this!"
"What? Why..."
Startled by Andersen's sudden remark, Ernest started to ask why, but realized at once—he smacked himself on the forehead.
How could a mere Company Commander, of all people, go on at length about an imperial colonial rule policy that hadn't even been officially implemented, much less announced?
To Ernest, it had felt like an obvious conclusion reached through deduction.
But for Bailey, who was already in a foul mood, it could look as if Ernest was practically saying, 'Even if you don't tell me, I could learn everything through your superior, Colonel Ort!'—coming off as insolent and challenging.
When Ernest was just a Platoon Leader, whatever he did didn't stand out much.
That's because Yurgen, as Company Commander, acted as a filter, protecting him by intercepting that damn Ernest—damn Krieger's—arrogant words and actions.
But now, there was no one left to shield Ernest, and he was still inexperienced with these matters, so he kept making mistakes.
"You really didn't hear it from the Regimental Commander?"
"No, I didn't!"
"Really?"
"Yes!"
"Really, for real?"
"Enough already!"
"Hahahaha!"
Andersen had clearly given up now; he really didn't care anymore, and just teased Ernest with a laugh.
At this point, whatever happens, happens.
"Ernest, you have to stop causing trouble. No matter what, you're going too far."
"..."
Ferdinand also came to him directly and offered a heavy word.
"I know you're exceptional. Alright, I'll be completely honest—a part of me feels unqualified to be Company Commander, whereas you, even though we're the same age, are almost overqualified for the role."
"You'd be able to fully demonstrate your abilities if you were commanding a larger unit."
It wasn't just a simple comment. Ferdinand, too, had a lot to say to this bastard.
"But right now, you're a Captain with less than three months of officer experience, and you're a Company Commander. There are things you're supposed to do in your position, and things you absolutely shouldn't. Stay within the lines. Do whatever you want after you get promoted. No one will stop you then."
Ferdinand acknowledged Ernest's abilities.
Other than Thomas and Haires, there was probably no one in the world who understood and recognized Ernest's skills better than Ferdinand. But that was that, and this was this.
Ernest was so outstanding that he was clearly meddling in areas well beyond the scope of a Company Commander.
Areas of both ability and authority.
"…It's not like I'm causing trouble on purpose."
"Yeah, you've always made things difficult for those around you without meaning to."
"…."
"If you keep going like this, you could really end up dead. Ernest. You stand out way too much."
Ferdinand gripped Ernest's shoulder tightly and whispered in a low voice.
"Sorry to say this, but don't forget that you and I are in different positions. I can be protected, but you can't."
Ferdinand, treated as a Hero, didn't have to worry about being cast aside.
After all, his grandfather was the Corps Chief of Staff and his father was the Corps Section Chief for Operations.
It was only natural.
But Ernest was different.
He was the Son of a Hero, and he genuinely possessed the ability to become a hero himself.
However, if those above decided his head was getting too big, they could simply cut him down and toss him aside.
Ferdinand was genuinely worried about his friend.
"…Alright."
Knowing Ferdinand's concern was sincere, Ernest quietly nodded in response.
Ferdinand let out a small sigh, then whispered again.
"This time, let's say I gave you a heads-up in advance. So keep your mouth shut and don't say a word about it."
Ferdinand decided to take the blame for this issue himself instead of letting Ernest get caught up in it.
He truly felt something serious could happen at this rate.
"Will you be okay?"
"No, I won't be. So be careful from now on."
"…Sorry. And thanks."
Thump.
Ferdinand didn't reply to Ernest's apology and gratitude with words. Instead, he lightly punched Ernest in the chest and strode off without another word.
Ernest quietly relayed a warning to the 2nd Company officers. He told them to just say that Ferdinand had tipped them off, and not to mention it any further.
"Idiot. Real brilliant move."
"Hey, you should have helped out as a teacher."
"Oh, Teacher Ernest, I'm currently in a situation where I could get in trouble with my superior, Captain Fox, so I can't just speak out carelessly."
Even though Robert said this, he still felt a sense of responsibility.
Army life was tough, and he thought it was partly his own fault for letting that half-baked fool run wild.
At any rate, thanks to Little Hartmann stepping in and smoothing things over himself, Bailey didn't throw another fit at Ernest.
But everyone knew this was Ferdinand's way of protecting Ernest.
At the end of the day, nobody could complain—Little Hartmann himself had intervened.
"Seriously, aren't you secretly exchanging messages with the Regimental Commander behind our backs?"
***
"Sigh… I really don't know anymore. Just… Please, I'm begging you—just don't do anything at all. No, seriously, just let that damn 2nd Company Commander mind his own business. He's good at his job, at least, so just let him do it..."
Captain Hans Schum, the operations section chief and the top staff officer in the battalion, warned the other staff members who'd come to him grumbling about this, then kicked them out.
If Ernest really was in contact with Levin, it would put 1st Battalion Commander Bailey in an awkward position. It was bad enough that Bailey had enforced such harsh training; on top of that, he'd never stopped harassing Ernest.
But for now, Levin didn't react, Bailey just got even more irritable, and as for Ernest, no one could figure out what that guy was thinking.
Hans found himself understanding exactly how Captain Andersen Kissinger, who'd just missed getting promoted to major, must feel.
'Ugh, screw it. I don't care anymore. Let them do whatever the hell they want. Damn bastards.'
Hans resolved that he'd simply endure as Section Chief and just focus on getting promoted to major. Once he decided not to care about all this crap, he finally started to feel some peace of mind.
'Come to think of it, Captain Krieger really is good at his job, even though he's young and not very experienced.'
With that, Hans was able to judge Ernest a bit more objectively.
Strictly speaking, Ernest hadn't done anything wrong.
He handled everything well—things had just gotten unlucky and tangled up on him.
'He may be even more clueless than a real bastard.'
But when it came to dealing with people, his lack of awareness was so bad it left Hans utterly speechless.
But you could chalk all that up to his youth.
"If you don't get hung up on pointless things, there's honestly no one as good as Captain Krieger."
The more Hans thought about it, the more he liked Ernest.
Ferdinand was bothersome because he was called Little Hartmann, and Andersen was uncomfortable to deal with—he'd narrowly missed promotion to major because of the war and had a similar length of service as Hans.
But Ernest was young, came from an ambiguous background, listened well, and was a jack-of-all-trades who could handle anything you threw at him.
Looking back, Hans realized that every time he'd needed something from an infantry company, he'd asked Ernest, and Ernest had never once complained—he just got everything done, always perfectly.
Amazingly, Hans really had no reason to dislike Ernest.
From the perspective of a battalion section chief, honestly, where could you find a more useful—no, a friendlier—infantry company commander?
"With the Battalion Commander… I don't know. Whatever, screw it. Let them sort that out themselves."
Aside from the issue with Bailey, that is. Anyway, since Hans had resolved not to care about the Bailey-Ernest situation, there was no reason to have any complaints about Ernest, who, as far as he was concerned as section chief, did his job well and was easy to work with.
The next morning, at last, the 5th Division crossed through the Bertagne Forest and advanced out onto the plains of Belliang.
"Slowly! Take it slow!"
The transport vehicles rolled carefully down roads made by filling in the trenches.
The logging was finished, and the three trenches dug by Belliang had all been filled in with dirt to create passable roads. This road would now become the 5th Division's supply route, so it had to be guarded and maintained well.
The road was too narrow for a lot of vehicles and people to pass at once. Still, they would widen it gradually, so it was fine. After all, Belliang now belonged to the Empire.
The 13th Regiment was the first to get through the forest and onto the plain, taking up positions and keeping watch on the surroundings in case anything happened. After that, the Cavalry Regiment passed through the woods and began scouting the area.
Ernest watched the Cavalry Regiment racing across Belliang's vast plains, trying to spot Sebastian somewhere among them.
Of course, he couldn't pick him out, and all he felt was a longing for the happy memories that had already passed.
Following the 14th Regiment, the newly established Artillery Regiment also crossed the forest.
Finally, the 15th Regiment made it through, meaning the entire 5th Division now stood on the Belliang Plain.
"Get in the vehicles!"
"Yes, sir!"
They had crossed the forest and stepped onto the plains. It was nearly summer, so it was a bit hot, but the weather was perfect.
On top of that, instead of walking, they could now ride in vehicles.
Everyone answered the order to board the transport vehicles with renewed energy and climbed aboard.
"I'm counting on you."
"Yes, Company Commander of the 2nd Company."
Now that Ernest was a Company Commander, he got his own vehicle. In the driver's seat of the relatively small Company Command Vehicle sat the driver, which let Ernest keep the promise he'd made to himself back when he first started driving.
That promise, of course, was that Ernest would never, under any circumstances, ride in a car he was driving himself.
Feeling a bit awkward, Ernest took the passenger seat, while Isaac and Bruno, the Baltrachers of the 2nd Company, sat in the back. They, too, felt out of place riding in the command vehicle, since up until now they'd been loaded in the back of transport vehicles like baggage whenever they headed for the battlefield.
Normally, one Baltracher from an Infantry Company and one from the Transport Company would sit in the vehicle. But with the addition of a second Infantry Company Baltracher, the Transport Company's Baltracher was assigned elsewhere. Having two Baltrachers in the Infantry Company meant they could handle any issues related to the Balt Batteries on their own.
It was better to keep the Transport Company's Baltracher in reserve for emergencies.
Soon after, the 5th Division began advancing strongly. The Cavalry Regiment pushed ahead, followed by the 13th and 14th Regiments, the Artillery Regiment, and then the 15th Regiment.
For the time being, the 5th Division would move forward without any fighting. The fortress towns ahead had already been captured, or were in the process of being captured, by the 6th Division. While the 7th Division marched directly west from the north of Bertagne, the 6th Division secured the southwestern rear to protect the 7th's route, ensuring safety behind the front lines.
After linking up with the 6th Division, the 5th Division would push even farther south. With so little enemy resistance, the three divisions spread out, each racing to occupy all of Belliang as quickly as possible.
Someone might call this overly optimistic. If Belliang still had the strength left to resist, splitting into three forces could be a costly mistake. But if they really had that kind of strength, they would've used it to defend the Bertagne Forest rather than giving up the plains.
If you're going to take flesh, you have to keep your bones—even in desperation, you wouldn't give up everything just to save some skin, right?
In reality, both the 6th and 7th Divisions had taken many fortress towns without a fight. The enemy had no will to resist and simply surrendered. Still, there were some who continued to resist, hiding behind the castle walls to the very end. In any case, fighting was still going on, so they couldn't afford to let their guard down.
"The weather's really nice…"
Ernest murmured, gazing at the clear summer sky, the refreshing breeze, and the lush, early summer wheat fields. Hearing this, both Baltrachers looked out the windows as well.
"It really is. The weather's wonderful."
"I don't want to be a farmer, but every time I see a wheat field, I always feel a bit nostalgic."
Isaac and Bruno replied with a smile. It felt as if the soggy memories from the spring in Bertagne Forest were finally drying out in the sunlight. There might still be water stains left, but it was certainly better than staying soaking wet.
***
Clunk!
"Ah! This is killing me!"
"What the hell is wrong with these damned Belliang bastards? Why did they build the roads like this!"
Of course, only Captains and Senior Captains riding in the command vehicle had the luxury of such musings. The Second Lieutenants, Non-commissioned Officers, and Soldiers packed into the jostling transport vehicles had no time for sentiment.
"Come on! Our Platoon Leader hasn't even gotten married yet, at this rate he's going to wreck his back!"
"Hey! Who was that!"
"Hehehe! Who do you think it was!"
"Just wait until we get off! All of you can look forward to running laps all day for insulting your superior!"
"It was John who said it!"
"Hey!"
"John, I'll remember this!"
Enjoying the privilege of riding in the cushioned passenger seat as Platoon Leader, Robert shouted and bantered at the platoon members packed in behind him in the transport vehicle.
'I wonder what the blond beauties of Belliang look like?'
But inside, he was far too busy with a constant stream of rather single-minded desires. Robert felt it was absolutely necessary to ponder this matter quite seriously.
'It would have been nice if Jonas were here too.'
If the stylish Jonas were around, he probably could have spruced Robert up to appeal even more to those blond beauties of Belliang.
Robert stuck his head out the window and looked back. But the Bertagne Forest had already vanished behind the countless vehicles trailing them and a thick cloud of dust.
Suddenly, Robert was struck with fear, wondering if he had come somewhere he could never return from, and Ernest, who had felt that way long before, was quietly overcome with pity and sorrow at the realization. Even after victory, all that remained for them was pain.
War was utterly destroying everything they had.