Chapter 162 - Unconditional Indulgence (4)
Ernest picked up his gun and left the house.
Slinging the heavy weapon over his shoulder as he stepped out of the ordinary, peaceful family home, he suddenly felt as if he'd been thrown from a dream right into harsh reality.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
Erika, standing next to Ernest under the scorching sunlight pouring down on the road, tilted her head a little to look up at his face as she asked.
"I'm going back."
"…Really?"
At Ernest's calm reply, Erika kicked a pebble rolling by with the toe of her worn boots.
"We should probably leave here soon too. There's nothing to gain by staying any longer."
Werner whispered to Erika.
Erika shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye.
"Do you like riding horses?"
"No way."
Hardly had Erika spoken before Werner snapped at her.
Erika subtly hid behind Ernest, putting him between herself and Werner.
Werner, who was oddly polite around Ernest, looked nervous and fidgeted.
When Werner glared at Erika and started walking, Erika mirrored his steps, making sure to keep Ernest between them.
Soon, Erika found herself standing directly in front of Ernest.
She looked up at Ernest, her eyes crinkling into a gentle smile.
"Bitber really missed you. If you like riding horses, maybe you could give Bitber another chance. Don't you think?"
Ernest tilted his head slowly.
Mimicking his gesture, Erika also tipped her head to the side.
"It might be too late to ask now, but how did we end up meeting each other?"
Ernest asked.
"Meeting once could be a coincidence, and even twice is implausible but still possible, but three times? That just doesn't make sense."
It's not surprising to meet for the first time.
Even the second time is such an absurd coincidence that you might let it slide.
But a third encounter—something about it is definitely strange.
"Oh, listen to you. You make it sound like I've been stalking you or something."
Erika said, planting her hands on her hips as if she found it ridiculous.
"You haven't changed a bit, have you? Why on earth would I go through all this trouble—coming all the way from the Empire to Belliang—just to find you, without even knowing where you are or what you're doing?"
"...."
"So, are you going to ride Bitber, or not?"
Ernest rolled his eyes upward, gazing at the summer sky so clear and bright it almost stung his eyes, then slowly looked down at the sun-scorched ground before meeting Erika's gaze once more.
"I'll ride."
Ernest, who truly loved horseback riding, had not been on a horse even once since the war began.
The only memory he had of horses during the war was of shooting five of them—horses that had shown him affection—in the forest at the foot of the Bertebras Mountains, just to get water.
"Great."
Erika wrinkled her nose cutely and smiled, then glanced at Werner.
"See you later, Werner."
"I told you it's not allowed."
"And I told you, who says we can't? Let's go, Ernest."
"..."
Werner looked slightly upset. But Erika just stuck her tongue out at him mischievously, took Ernest by the hand, and led him to the stable. As Ernest followed Erika, he looked back to see Werner watching the two of them with a complicated expression.
Werner still treated Ernest with caution and respect, but in his fiercely burning eyes, a deep storm of anger was raging.
Ernest couldn't understand his anger and felt confused by it.
When they reached the stable, the horses began to stare at Ernest with gentle, glistening eyes.
But of all the horses there, only one was fit to carry him—Erika's horse, Bitber.
"How can you be so shallow?"
Erika grumbled as she watched Bitber ignore his owner completely and instead nuzzle up to Ernest's shoulder, acting all affectionate.
Ernest naturally stroked Bitber's neck and led him out of the stable.
"Oh—"
An, who had been about to enter the stable, was startled and stepped back quickly.
Her eyes were swollen from crying as she looked up at Ernest, and then she edged sideways to clear the way for him.
"A-are you… going for a ride?"
An asked hesitantly. Ernest looked down at her and replied in a calm voice.
"Yes. Are you alright?"
"..."
Blushing shyly, An nodded.
She thought this tall man with broad shoulders, who was so thoughtful and reserved, was really impressive.
Technically, Ernest wasn't truly reserved—he just seemed that way because of his limited Belliang vocabulary, but that hardly mattered to her.
After glancing at Ernest, An hurried over to Erika as she emerged from the stable, catching her by the shoulder.
When Erika bent down, An covered her mouth and whispered something quietly into her ear. Erika turned to her and flashed a quick, bright smile.
"Forget it. Cheeky little brat!"
"Ah! Ah!"
Erika laughed as she grabbed An's soft cheek and tugged gently, her voice full of mirth.
An flailed her hands, and when Erika finally let go, she quickly retreated a few steps.
Suddenly, a wave of indignation seemed to hit her—she huffed, rushing at Erika, but stopped short, unable to actually hit her.
"I hate you, Older Sister! From now on, I'm only giving you small pieces of bread!"
An shot Erika a pointed yell, then dashed back into the stable as fast as she could.
"So you'll still give me bread, huh?"
"Whatever!"
Erika called out with a giggle, and An snapped back with a moody reply.
Smiling, Erika walked over to Ernest and Bitber.
Ernest, ignoring the conversation between Erika and An, had already mounted Bitber.
He didn't show it outwardly, but he was clearly excited to ride a horse again after such a long time.
"Here."
Erika reached her hand out to Ernest.
"..."
Ernest stared at her hand in silence, tilting his head.
Erika blinked and shook her hand back and forth.
"What is it?"
Ernest asked, looking puzzled.
Erika's face suddenly twisted in annoyance.
"You have to help me up."
"Why are you getting on the horse too?"
Ernest actually knew why Erika held out her hand. She wanted him to help her up so she could mount the horse as well. What he didn't understand was the reason behind it.
Wasn't he supposed to ride Bitber alone?
Why did Erika want to ride together?
"..."
Erika glared at Ernest, her face turning red.
Then she crossed her arms and spoke in a sulky tone.
"Bitber is my horse. No matter who you are, I can't just let you ride off alone."
Ernest completely understood how she felt.
He wouldn't trust anyone else with his dear friend Drek, either—unless it was someone as close as Robert, Jonas, or Marie.
But Robert's riding skills were never much to speak of, Jonas could no longer ride Drek, and Marie was much too small to handle a horse on her own. In the end, the only person Ernest would ever entrust Drek to was his father, Haires.
"I'll come back alone. I promise. Let's settle it with that favor."
"..."
So Ernest used the promise Erika had made—to grant him any favor she could—as soon as he had the chance, without any hesitation. Erika stared up at him in disbelief, her expression blank with shock.
Then, just as he was about to mount Bitber and set off, she grabbed his ankle tightly, stopping him in his tracks.
"Anything! You said you'd ask for anything! You should… You should use it for something more important than this!"
"Riding Bitber alone is important to me, too. I'll be back soon, so let's talk again in a bit."
"No!"
When Ernest tried to leave again, Erika went so far as to throw her arms around Bitber's neck, stopping the horse completely. Bitber, eager to leave behind his pretend master Erika and dash across the blue fields of Belliang with his true master Ernest, shook his head and grumbled in protest.
"I can't grant that wish!"
"…Then what can you grant?"
When Erika shouted this with utter stubbornness, Ernest replied in a weary voice.
If this isn't okay and that isn't okay, what is okay?
"Think of something else!"
"I don't want anything from you. What I want, Bitber can give me."
"It doesn't matter! I'm riding too!"
Erika, fuming, tried to force her way onto Bitber's back. She put her foot on top of Ernest's, grabbed hold of his thigh, and clung to him by wrapping her arms around him.
"…If you insist, would you ride in the back?"
"No, I absolutely have to ride in front."
"..."
Letting go of the reins, Ernest lifted his arm and pulled the clinging Erika to sit in front of him.
"Next time, at least make it a more reasonable request."
Erika said this with unyielding stubbornness.
Ernest knew he wouldn't be able to gallop freely with Erika, but for now, just riding counted for something, so he started guiding Bitber out of the village.
As Ernest felt Bitber's movements, he found a strange sense of familiarity in the unfamiliar rocking.
Bitber's gait, in some ways, reminded him of Drek.
"We might never see each other again, you know."
Focusing on the rhythm of Bitber's steps and the shifting of the horse's weight, Ernest spoke to Erika.
He could always ask her for the favor next time, but the truth was, just meeting three times in this wide world was already a miracle—expecting another chance was wishful thinking.
"We ran into each other by chance three times—so why couldn't it happen a fourth?"
Just like Ernest, Erika knew these three encounters were an incredible coincidence.
Still, having come this far, she seemed to believe there would be a next time too.
Because Ernest's hope of galloping freely across the fields for the first time in ages had just been dashed, he spoke in a firm tone, unable to hide his disappointment.
"If we do meet for a fourth time, maybe I won't make you run around the village ten times—but I should at least get to see you do a handstand."
"Are you really going to be like this?"
"If you don't like it, you can always get off right now."
"Fine, whatever. A handstand? I'll do it. If that's all, I'll do it!"
Erika, just as fired up, promised she'd do a handstand. In her heart, she even resolved to practice enough to kick Ernest in the stomach while doing a handstand.
The stable was on the outskirts of the village, and before long they left the village and reached the open plain.
Ernest cautiously increased their speed.
With two adults riding and no way of knowing Erika's riding skills, he couldn't rush.
Bitber started running in high spirits.
Despite the harsh sun of summer, the wind rushing over the green field cooled their sweat.
Right now, Ernest felt a sense of comfort so deep it surprised him.
The reason was simple: Erika was sitting in front of him, her back pressed close to his chest, clinging to him as if they were one.
Before he could even judge Erika's equestrian skills, just the way they moved together felt almost eerily in sync.
Ernest pushed Bitber to a speed that wouldn't burden the horse, but was still fast enough.
Erika naturally matched his pace.
"…It feels so refreshing."
Erika murmured as she held onto Ernest's arm, which was gripping the reins.
Just a moment ago, she'd been bristling with defiance over a simple, barely-possible request, but now she was so calm it made Ernest worry.
He eased up a bit on the speed again.
Even without pulling the reins or urging Bitber on, the horse adjusted its pace smoothly.
As they slowed and the ride became steadier, Erika let go of Ernest's right arm with her right hand.
Without looking, she raised her hand and covered Ernest's cheek.
When he gently avoided her touch, Erika gave a small, amused laugh and lowered her hand.
"Haven't been sleeping well, have you?"
"..."
"The circles under your eyes are pitch black."
"..."
"Relax your brow a little. You look scary."
You look scary.
Was Erika saying he looked frightening, or that he seemed scared himself…?
"Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"
When Ernest didn't say anything, Erika asked,
"A little."
Ernest replied calmly.
"So, what exactly are you after?"
He followed up with another question. Ernest still couldn't understand why Erika was being so friendly with him.
Why was she so concerned about him? He was just one of countless people passing by her life.
Their paths had crossed just three times by sheer coincidence.
Erika didn't say anything for a moment.
Then, suddenly, she started laughing, shaking her shoulders as if she found something hilarious.
"I'm a grown woman old enough to get married, you know. Isn't it only natural to act friendly with a handsome man?"
"...."
"Hey, are you even going to say anything?"
"...What am I supposed to say in a situation like this?"
Having never experienced anything like this before, Ernest gave it some serious thought and decided to just ask Erika directly.
What on earth was he supposed to say right now?
If Wilfried had been by his side right now, he probably would've squeezed his eyes shut, smacked his forehead, let out a sigh, and then cracked a wry smile.
Back when Wilfried chased this damn bastard Ernest out of the party after chatting with him for arriving way too early—Ernest had once asked Wilfried then that it was his first time being hated, and what he was supposed to do about it.
At that absurd question, Wilfried just got even more annoyed and kicked Ernest out.
Ernest felt a wave of longing as he remembered his childhood spent at the Imperial Military Academy.
Even though "childhood" was just three years ago.
"Ahahaha!"
Erika's peal of laughter rang crisply across the summer field.
She wrapped her arms tightly around Ernest, leaned her chest against his back, and lifted her face to look up at him.
Ernest tilted his head to the side, narrowly dodging a bump from Erika's head.
The two found themselves so close, it was almost overwhelming facing each other.
"You should be able to figure that much out for yourself!"
With her head, Erika gave a gentle thump to Ernest's chest.
After that, neither of them said a word.
Ernest, feeling vaguely awkward, tried to escape that discomfort by focusing solely on guiding Bitber.
"Hmph, hm-hmm…"
Instead, Erika's quiet humming settled gently into the silence between them, filling the space completely.
She hummed the same song she'd sung while sitting with him by the riverside at sunset, cherishing it even more than she had then, as if it was too precious to voice aloud and so could only be hinted at with a tune.
Naturally, Ernest found himself softly replying to her humming, layering words full of nothing but affection.
She said it was a traditional Saraanian song that a man sings when proposing to a woman.
And when Ernest asked her why she was singing it…
"Why… am I such an idiot?"
"Huh?"
"You called me an idiot before, didn't you?"
"..."
At Ernest's sudden question, Erika stopped humming. She let out a deep sigh.
"You really are unbelievably dense."
"I'm… not actually an idiot, though…"
Objectively and subjectively, Ernest was never an idiot.
This wasn't self-praise but a simple fact.
During his entire time at the Imperial Military Academy, he had never fallen from the top of his class, and even during the war, when he barely got to study Belliang language, he managed to become conversational with native speakers in just four months, though it was a bit rough around the edges.
After seeing a landscape just once, he could construct a three-dimensional map of it in his mind and memorize it perfectly, and he could instantly see through enemy tactics and even their overarching strategy in the blink of an eye.
If Ernest could be called an idiot, then there would barely be a handful of people in the whole world worthy of being called smart.
But right now, Ernest had absolutely no idea why Erika had called him an idiot, and it made him feel as if he really had turned into a fool. It was more than a little confusing.
"Forget it. That's as far as you go. I'm leaving here tonight, so I need to save Bitber's strength. And you should go get some sleep too. What's the point of that handsome face if you look like this?"
Erika spoke curtly, but her tone was surprisingly gentle.
Having no choice but to obey the horse's owner, Ernest led Bitber back toward the village.
"..."
And there, just outside the village, he spotted Werner, glaring fiercely at him with wide, angry eyes.
Erika noticed him too and shrank her shoulders a little.
"Why is Werner so angry with me? I don't think I've done anything wrong."
Puzzled by Werner, who was just as incomprehensible as Erika at times, Ernest voiced his question.
Erika hesitated, then mumbled,
"Werner… raised me like a daughter…"
"So what about it?"
"…There's just… stuff like that."
Erika acted as if she might explain in more detail, but whenever Ernest pressed her for more, she would just sigh deeply and trail off, never finishing her story.
What an infuriatingly vague way of speaking.
'Well, it's not like I'll ever see them again anyway.'
Ernest was quite frustrated that his question remained unanswered, but he decided not to press further, thinking he'd never meet them again.
He brought Bitber to a stop in front of Werner and started to get down from the horse.
However, Erika was still tightly holding onto Ernest's arm, and he couldn't dismount without risking her falling off, so he had no choice but to pause.
"Erika."
Werner called Erika's name in a very stern voice.
Watching Werner for his reaction, Erika finally let go of Ernest's arm.
As soon as Ernest dismounted from Bitber, Werner strode over, grasped Erika by the waist, and set her firmly on the ground.
"I'm already grown up. I can get down by myself."
"I know."
Werner, who had raised Erika like a daughter, responded very strictly to her complaint.
Erika grumbled under her breath, then quietly slipped over to hide behind Ernest.
"I'll be going, then."
Ernest stepped away from Erika as he spoke.
At the same time, he nodded slightly in greeting to Werner, who still glared at him with a polite yet smoldering intensity as if he wanted to burn him alive.
As Ernest turned to leave, Erika grabbed his hand.
He turned back to look at her.
"...Goodbye, Ernest."
Looking up at him, Erika smiled with an inscrutable expression as she said her farewell.
Her crescent-moon eyes looked a little sad.
"…Goodbye, Erika."
Ernest replied in a calm voice, partly because it seemed like that was what she wanted.
Erika scrunched up her nose and smiled, then let go of his hand.
"Make sure you get some sleep."
"I will."
Erika waved as she spoke, and Ernest answered before carelessly moving on his way.
Then he paused and glanced back.
"Be careful. For someone doing something so dangerous, you really aren't cautious enough."
Whether it was a warning or a gesture of concern was unclear as Ernest spoke.
Without waiting for Erika's reply, he turned and began to walk away again.
"I'm actually a very careful woman, you know."
But even to Erika's petulant retort, he didn't look back.
***
"Oh, you're back early."
When Ernest returned, the sergeant he'd grown quite friendly with opened his eyes wide in surprise.
Ernest blinked slowly and asked,
"Did you see?"
How much did he see, exactly?
"Oh, no, I didn't see it myself—just heard about it. They said you rode out of the village on horseback with a woman… But why are you back so soon?"
Fortunately, it seemed he'd only heard about Ernest leaving the village with Bitber and Erika, nothing more.
But why was he asking why Ernest had come back so soon?
'…Ah.'
Ernest paused at the pointedly suggestive question and then understood almost instantly.
A seventeen-year-old, spirited young noble officer leaving the village on horseback with a woman—it would be impossible not to draw certain conclusions from that scenario.
The cause and effect were as obvious as Robert proposing to Major Kirchner and promptly being rejected.
It was a foregone conclusion to anyone watching.
"It's not like that."
"Come on, no one's going to judge you for that."
"I'm telling you, it really wasn't like that."
"…Did it not work out?"
"I said it wasn't like that, didn't I?"
"No, but I don't see how it couldn't have worked out… From the moment you two got on the horse together, it was over. No woman would ride with a man she doesn't care about, right? And on top of that, you're tall, handsome, young—plus, you're a captain, and you're dignified…"
The sergeant looked Ernest up and down, his eyes darting about, as if he truly couldn't understand.
There was simply no way this man could be turned down, no matter how you looked at it.
Even a reserved noble lady would at least be a little swayed by someone like him.
So how could some country girl in a small village reject Ernest?
Especially after riding on the horse together!
"She just wanted a ride, so we only rode back together, that's all."
"…But why did you ride together, then?"
"She insisted we both get on."
"…No way! Captain!"
If this young man standing before him weren't a nobleman and his superior, the sergeant would have let loose a string of curses right then and there.
"How could you just ride back together, and nothing happened!"
"She asked for a ride, so I just took her back on the horse. Besides, we just ran into each other by chance; there's no reason to have any special feelings about it."
"Isn't that just another way of saying it was love at first sight!"
Ernest couldn't explain the real reason why Erika might have been kind to him, and he couldn't share the circumstances either.
He couldn't explain, and he couldn't waste any more time on this. Ernest simply decided to end the conversation and get some rest.
"It's nothing like that, so drop it."
"No! This time, I really can't let it go! Captain, you need to learn more about women's feelings!"
"..."
Until he heard the word 'learn.'
With his arms crossed, Ernest fixed the sergeant with a deep, dark gaze.
'This might actually be a good learning experience.'
Ernest began to find reasons for himself to study this.
'Come to think of it, even Father never taught me about things like this. Even during games, he'd just gloss over it. Admitting you don't know something and trying to learn is not wrong. What's truly wrong is pretending you know when you actually do not. If I just ignore this, what I know will remain incomplete. I can't speak carelessly about things I don't understand, and I can't use things I don't know as I please. I've been far too indifferent to people's feelings. Maybe, if I'd studied a bit more, things wouldn't have fallen apart with Lieutenant Colonel Hoffman. Yes, letting this go without learning is negligence—and arrogance.
After a brief but intense moment of thought, Ernest nodded gravely.
"Let's study, then."
Ernest believed that even within the irregular and disorderly hearts of women, he could discover some kind of rule or order.
All chaos could be overcome through reason and logic.
This was the light of intellect that drives away the darkness of ignorance.
"...Why?"
"Ah, first off, you just have to take their side, no matter what."
"But why...? If someone's in the wrong, isn't it right to say so?"
"That's exactly what you shouldn't do! She already knows she's wrong. Wouldn't you also feel annoyed if someone pointed out your mistakes, Captain?"
"No, realizing my mistakes helps me learn and improve, so I actually appreciate it."
"Oh, for heaven's sake."
Despite his keen intellect, Ernest ultimately failed to properly define general notions about women based on rules and order.
No matter how irregular and chaotic human emotions may be, there was no way they could operate in such a one-sided manner, completely transcending all reason and logic.
Ernest tried to find rules and order within a woman's heart, and he did manage to come up with something. However, once he had created his theory, he realized there were far more exceptions than cases that fit the rule. If there are more exceptions than things that follow the rule, then it's a bad rule. Ernest recognized his own failure and concluded that this profound field of study required a greater sample size and much deeper exploration.
"Do you have any recommended books on the subject? Ideally, I'd like sources backed by respected research institutions or authoritative studies."
"Oh man, you're hopeless."
The sergeant realized it was impossible to teach Ernest about women's hearts.
Ernest had absolute faith in human reason.
He accepted that he himself could behave irrationally in limited circumstances, but he adamantly believed that people couldn't possibly be irrational across such a wide range of areas.
All he had to do was say something like, "You must have had a really tough time," but he always had to add, "Still, you were at fault," and make a point of it.
He believed that was the truth, and that recognizing your own mistakes is the only way to grow.
"Captain, just stop talking and listen. Just keep your mouth shut and quietly look at her with understanding—it'll be more effective than a thousand words."
"How can you offer to teach me and then just give up like this? If you said you'd teach me, you have to take responsibility and see it through to the end."
"Let's just stop! No, please, let me go. I really want to quit."
The Ruthless Ernest Krieger wouldn't let go of the poor sergeant and kept pestering him relentlessly.
It was only after the sergeant was practically begging, almost in tears, that Ernest finally let him go.
Ernest felt frustrated, and even as he got into the vehicle and headed west again, he continued to reflect deeply on this issue.
'Ah, that's right. I was wrong.'
And then, at a certain moment, Ernest achieved enlightenment. A ray of clarity pierced through the fog in his mind, and suddenly everything was clear.
'This is just like military science.'
He must never forget the very first lesson that the esteemed Senior Instructor, Captain Thomas Kohler, gave to the young cadets at the Imperial Military Academy.
Military science is a field without definitive answers.
There's nothing that always works.
That's the true fog of war on the battlefield.
If there's no correct answer, then clinging to the idea of finding one will only choke you in the end.
Sometimes, you just have to accept that there is no right answer and instead look for the optimal solution.
"I understand now. A woman's heart is just like military science. There are rules and order, but not everything works out correctly, there are endless exceptions, and you have to consider dozens of factors at once to figure out the optimal move…"
"Argh! Enough!"
The moment Ernest arrived at the city barracks and started unpacking for the night, he immediately sought out the sergeant and launched into another one of his seemingly reasonable rants.
The sergeant screamed and threw him out.
Though flustered, Ernest was, for now, satisfied that he'd found his own way forward.
Clack.
Returning to his own room, Ernest locked the door and windows, and thoroughly searched the space. He stood his gun upright next to his bed, placed the bayonet on the table, then drew his dagger and hid it under his pillow.
With his nightly preparations complete as usual, Ernest turned off the light and lay down in bed.
The moment he closed his eyes in the profound darkness, a flash seared before his eyes and gunshots rang in his ears.
Ernest silently endured these painful moments that had become part of his nightly routine before slowly sitting up and turning the light back on.
He opened the cigarette box on his table and took out a cigarette.
As he tried to light it with the lantern—
"..."
He paused, noticing the well-worn handkerchief carefully folded inside the cigarette box.
Ernest set his cigarette down and gently stroked the lucky handkerchief, embroidered with a horseshoe, with his fingertips.
He looked at the black fingernail on his left hand—a mark left by dried blood—and balled his hand into a fist. Ernest carefully put the cigarette box down, reached into the neatly hung officer's uniform in his wardrobe, and searched the inside pocket so it wouldn't wrinkle.
He took out the Opeka—a necklace braided from horsehair—and gazed at it in the faint light.
"…Still, it's not as if all I've done is kill."
Not only the Sarraanians involved in this incident, but during battles, he had also saved his subordinates, comrades, and friends.
Even the killing of Lieutenant Colonel Bailey Hoffman—the first person he had truly killed by his own will—was done to end a pointless battle and save people.
Ernest knew that telling himself this was just a cowardly way to ease his guilt.
But once he thought that way, he did feel a bit more at ease.
Still holding the Opeka, Ernest returned to bed. He placed it by his pillow and, deciding against turning off the light, lay down with it still lit. Even with his eyes closed, the faint light shimmered beyond his eyelids. The Opeka, which hadn't been washed properly, gave off a slow, creeping smell of horse manure.
Suddenly, Ernest felt as if he had returned home—a home he missed dearly.
It reminded him of that humble Krieger house in Grimman, where he stubbornly kept the lights on to drive away the shadows that seemed ready to devour his father.
'I need to keep the light on.'
Remembering the grave duty of driving away the shadow that hung over his father, Ernest muttered inwardly.
And before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.
For the first time in ages, Ernest slept deeply without any dreams or waking in the night.
It had been so long that, when the morning sunlight pierced sharply through the curtains, he instinctively assumed it was still dark before dawn and stubbornly squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fall asleep again.
"…Ah."
But he'd slept so soundly that he couldn't go back to sleep, and the sunlight was so bright that he squinted, then realized he'd actually slept straight through until sunrise.
"Hurry up! We'll be late at this rate!"
"Yessir!"
Hearing the commotion of the Logistics Corps loading up supplies to depart, Ernest jolted awake, springing to his feet in alarm.
No wonder he felt so refreshed—he'd overslept!
Ernest hurriedly changed clothes and packed his things, barely having time to wash up properly, let alone shave.
He switched off the lantern, stowed his bayonet and dagger, tucked the cigarette box into his pocket, and reached for the Opeka he'd left by his pillow—then paused.
"...Ha…."
He gazed at the horsehair necklace, turning it over in his hands for a moment, then let out a deep sigh.
Slipping the Opeka into his pocket, he poured himself some water from the kettle to drink, and started to wash his face and shave.
There was no point in rushing now.
After all, even if Ernest had slept in a bit, it wouldn't cause any real problems.
As long as he boarded the vehicle before the Logistics Corps departed, everything would be fine.
Freshly shaved, Ernest ignored the bustle of the busy Logistics Corps and sat down for a leisurely meal with the leftovers.
All that was left was cold stew and hard bread, but it wasn't bad.
"We're leaving! Check the headcount!"
"Yes, sir!"
Only when it was time for the headcount before departure did he finally head outside and climb into the vehicle. Before long, the vehicle set off.
Ernest looked out at the scenery passing by the window.
The peaceful scenery of the village passed by, and the lush green fields of summer sparkled brilliantly under the morning sunlight.
A cool breeze swept across the grasslands, making the meadow roll like waves.
Ernest had never seen the sea in his life, but he imagined that if waves existed on land, this is what they would look like.
"..."
For a moment, Ernest thought he saw someone standing like a speck in the far-off distance beyond the fields.
One horse, two people.
But as the dust cloud kicked up by the lead vehicle drifted by and revealed the landscape again, there was no one left to be seen.
Erika had said yesterday that they would be leaving the village.
If that was true, there was no way they'd still be here.
Had Ernest simply imagined it?
Or had Erika lied?
Ernest closed his eyes.
It didn't really matter.
It was truly over now.
There would be no reason to meet again.
'What kind of person will the new Battalion Commander be?'
Thoughts about Erika—or women in general—could wait. He decided he'd study about those things later with some books.
For now, the urgent matter was the new 1st Battalion Commander.
Since there had already been bloodshed because of Lieutenant Colonel Bailey Hoffman, they probably wouldn't send someone just like him.
Still, it wouldn't do for Ernest to act the same way as before.
'I'll need to be careful this time'
Ernest resolved to build a good relationship with the new Battalion Commander.
His relationship with Bailey had ended in disaster, pushing him to the point where he committed murder with his own hands—acting the same way again without learning from it would truly be foolish.
This time, he was sure he could do better.