"This is Kingfisher. Target eliminated. Returning to the temporary forward base."
The message came through to Heinz, who had been waiting atop the Drokenberg Highlands.
It meant only one thing: his rational prediction had been wrong, and Daniel's gut feeling had been right.
Heinz wanted to believe it was a mistake, but he knew Daniel—ambitious to the core—would never file a false report.
He acknowledged the transmission and descended from the highlands, returning to base to witness the results with his own eyes.
"...Unbelievable."
In the clearing, dozens of Allied soldiers were kneeling in orderly rows, their hands bound.
At a glance, there were over 80 prisoners—guarded by just 20 Imperial troops.
The sight was so surreal, Heinz wondered if he was dreaming.
His aide seemed just as stunned.
"...Lieutenant Daniel took out a whole company with a single platoon? That's insane."
It wasn't completely impossible.
There were rare historical cases where Davids toppled Goliaths.
But still…
Had David ever taken Goliath alive?
Heinz couldn't fathom how 20 men had not only defeated but captured a company-sized force.
Even more shocking: the prisoners included five officers and seven NCOs. One of the officers was field-grade.
The intel alone made this a historic victory.
As Heinz stared at the groaning captives in the snow, he sensed someone approaching.
Daniel appeared, saluting crisply.
"You've returned, Captain Heinz."
Heinz returned the salute, disbelief still thick in his voice.
"Incredible. How did you manage to capture all of them?"
"Oh. I'd say it was just luck."
Daniel meant it sincerely—but to Heinz, it sounded like false humility.
They say modesty is a virtue in the Empire. If I didn't know his real nature, I might've fallen for it too.
Suspicious, Heinz cleared his throat.
"Cut the crap. No platoon captures a company by 'luck.' This victory is yours."
"...I disagree," Daniel replied, stone-faced. "I simply drew conclusions based on your assessment and the Central Intelligence Bureau's data. The credit should go to you and the CIB."
It was a desperate plea—Daniel clearly wanted to avoid being recognized for the victory.
But to Heinz, it seemed like shrewd political maneuvering. Praise the higher-ups, downplay your role—classic Imperial ladder-climbing.
He's disarming even the stiffest officers. Brilliant tactician on the battlefield, cunning schemer off it...
A chill crept down Heinz's spine.
This man wasn't just competent.
He was dangerous.
Suppressing the unease in his voice, Heinz replied flatly.
"That won't work. I don't falsify reports. Your success will be reported as is. Enjoy the recognition."
Daniel's eyebrow twitched.
Damn it. Just take the damn credit, you stiff bastard!
Anyone else would've snatched the accolades. But Heinz was too principled for that.
No wonder he remained low-ranked despite his talent.
Daniel sighed inwardly, but maintained a calm face.
"If that's your decision, sir, I'll comply."
"Good. With the operation over, you're dismissed. Get some rest. I'll handle the prisoners and arrange transport to headquarters by noon tomorrow."
"Thank you for your consideration."
Recognizing the conversation was over, Daniel saluted.
"It's been an honor serving under you, Captain Heinz Schmidt."
"The honor was mine. A soldier like you is rare."
Daniel turned and walked toward his tent.
Heinz's aide, watching him go, whispered in awe:
"The rumors were true. That lieutenant is a true elite. Tactical brilliance, and humble to boot."
"You're not wrong," Heinz muttered. "But you're missing the big picture."
Gazing at Daniel's fading silhouette, he continued under his breath:
"That man is a monster. A monster that will devour this Empire one day…"
The Next Day
After submitting my full report on the previous day's battle, I made my way to the clearing around noon.
Transport trucks and jeeps were parked in formation. The platoon members stood around chatting.
As I passed, I overheard them buzzing about the mission, still riding high on the victory.
Here and there, I even heard my name being praised.
...Not my imagination, then.
Freen, who had been laughing with a few soldiers, spotted me and hurried over.
"Lieutenant Daniel! Good afternoon! Report's all done?"
"Yeah. But what were you all getting so excited about?"
"We were talking about how incredible you were! Leading us to victory without a single casualty—in our first battle! Against a whole company! That's insane!"
Her eyes sparkled with admiration.
It was unbearable.
I frowned slightly.
"You're all being ridiculous. It's time to return to headquarters. Load up."
"Yes, sir! I'll inform the others!"
Snapping a salute, she rushed off to relay the order.
The soldiers turned, saluted, and began boarding the transports.
As I walked toward my jeep, something made me stop.
A woman stood nearby, hands clasped behind her back.
Selvia.
She was dressed in a clean white blouse and coat, surveying the area before her eyes locked on mine.
"Lieutenant Daniel. Heading back to headquarters?"
"...Yes. And?"
"Then I'll ride with you. I have business there too."
What the hell is she doing here?
I was too stunned to respond at first.
Frantically thinking of an excuse, I tried to dissuade her.
"This vehicle prioritizes function over comfort. It's not ideal for a lady—"
"I'm fine. It's wartime, after all. Just having a vehicle at all is a blessing."
I don't care if you're fine—I'm not fine with this.
I couldn't let the princess drive herself. Which meant I would have to drive her.
"Lieutenant Daniel?"
How the hell do you say no to a princess?
Suppressing a sigh, I nodded.
"If you insist. Please, get in. I'll drive."
Selvia climbed into the passenger seat.
I grumbled under my breath and started the engine. The convoy followed behind.
An hour into the drive, Selvia spoke.
"Lieutenant Daniel, what do you think about the war's current state?"
The question caught me off guard.
But it made sense—this was her chance, disguised as a war correspondent, to hear the unfiltered opinion of a lower-ranked officer.
"It won't be easy."
She looked puzzled.
"What do you mean? We're winning on the Northern Front. The East is making progress. At this rate, victory is in sight."
"Yes. Assuming no third-party nations intervene."
She clearly didn't grasp what a world war meant.
"If the Empire crushes the Allies and seizes their resources, what do you think will happen?"
She frowned, beginning to understand.
"We'll become the global hegemon..."
"Exactly. And that's the problem."
Other major powers were watching.
They feared the Empire's growing influence.
If the Empire succeeded, those nations could be next.
Fear would lead to preemptive war.
And their target would be…
"The Empire will become the enemy of the world."
Selvia went silent.
My words had shaken her.
It was probably the first time she'd heard something that clashed so violently with the generals' blind optimism.
I expected her to dismiss me.
But instead, she nodded thoughtfully.
"I see… That's certainly a possibility. But, Lieutenant Daniel Steiner—how did you come to that conclusion—"
I didn't get the chance to answer.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something glinting on the road.
Spike strips.
Snapping to action, I swerved hard, veering onto a side path.
Clunk!
The sudden turn threw Selvia into my lap.
"Ugh!"
She grabbed my leg for support—but I shoved her head down.
"Ugh!? Lieutenant Daniel! What the hell—!?"
Tat-tat-tat-tat!
Gunfire exploded around us.
Rounds tore through the air, slamming into the jeep.
One smashed against the passenger window with a sharp crack.
The reinforced glass barely held.
Realizing what was happening, Selvia stopped struggling and ducked lower.
"No way…"
Unfortunately, she was right.
Spikes on the road. Gunfire from all directions.
It could only mean one thing—
An ambush.