Chapter 196 - The Calm Zone
Along the fortified front line in the forest—where tall, solid walls and watchtowers have been erected—soldiers huddle behind the walls, shielding themselves from the wind and thawing their frozen hands and feet over a campfire.
"It's freezing…"
"Hang in there. The shift change will be here soon."
"I don't get why we have to go through all this. It's not like they're actually going to attack."
"Yeah, but if we abandon the front line completely, the enemy will break through."
"Damn it."
"At least the supply situation's great now, so there's that."
One soldier grinned, slapping his own clothes.
Over his military uniform, he wore a padded winter coat, and on top of that, a raincoat coated with oil for extra insulation.
"The clothes I'm wearing right now probably cost more than everything I owned before I got drafted."
"Heh, you bum."
"How much money do you have saved up, calling me a bum? Are you rich or something?"
"..."
Poor commoners didn't have special winter clothes.
To stay warm, they would just bundle on as many of their regular clothes as possible, piling on blankets or quilts from home to ward off the cold.
So when the Imperial Army issued these uniforms, they opened up a whole new world for the commoners.
On top of that, there was now plenty of food supplied, wages were paid on time, and even garrisons had been built so they didn't have to shiver in the cold.
Sure, the Imperial Army pulled some real idiotic moves in the early days of the war, but when it comes to their current supply lines, no one can deny that the Empire now boasts the most powerful army on the continent.
"Did you see those guys? They look downright pitiful."
The soldiers snickered, pointing over the wall at the Belliang Army.
The Belliang soldiers wore raincoats over their uniforms, stuffing straw between the two layers to ward off the cold.
Not only did it look shabby, but every time they moved, the straw would gather to one side, so they were always adjusting it.
On top of that, with the Belliang Plains—the continent's greatest breadbasket—now in Imperial hands, Konchanya had to scramble to feed itself.
Naturally, their food supplies weren't in great shape, either.
Yet, contrary to the Imperial soldiers' mockery, the Belliang Army wasn't faring all that badly.
In fact, their morale was almost frighteningly high.
This was thanks to the military merit Bertrand earned in the previous battle, which convinced the King of Konchanya to change his plans and fully back Bertrand.
Now, Bertrand was no longer just the royal of a fallen nation, but acknowledged as the King of Konchanya's partner in both politics and military matters.
In other words, instead of swallowing up Belliang whole, the King of Konchanya had decided to grant Belliang independence and install Bertrand as the King of Belliang.
Originally, Bertrand had been sixth in line to the throne—he would only have inherited the crown if his father, uncles, and the King's own children all lost their rights or died.
But now, Bertrand was the only surviving royal carrying the flag of the Kingdom of Belliang and fighting for its independence.
With the King of Konchanya throwing his full support behind him, who could possibly question his right to rule?
And on the day that Bertrand became King of Belliang, the loyal subordinates who had followed him all the way to Konchanya and fought by his side would go down in history as heroes who saved their homeland.
Normally, hope wouldn't stand a chance in such desperate circumstances.
But everyone under Bertrand's command was absolutely convinced that their lord would one day reclaim Belliang.
So how could the morale of the Belliang Army possibly be low?
The bitter cold and hunger of the moment were just passing hardships, nothing more than a breeze.
They were certain that, under a new dawn, everything would be rewarded.
"Why does it feel like their morale just gets higher with each passing day?"
Robert, who had used the excuse of checking on the soldiers' supplies to escape the Battalion Headquarters—where only seniors like himself were left—couldn't hide his unease as he saw the intense spirit radiating from the Belliang Army across the front line.
Unlike the rank-and-file soldiers, who judged the situation with rosy optimism based solely on the supplies they received, the officers were all too aware that the morale among the opposing Belliang forces was anything but ordinary.
"At this rate, they could fight right through the winter."
"Ugh… That's terrifying," Robert replied, shuddering.
As always, it was Ernest who had come out personally to inspect the soldiers and scout the front line, and Robert couldn't help but react to his observation.
Fighting a battle in this bitter winter was no easy feat.
Every soldier would naturally want to avoid it—and, in truth, so would any officer.
Yet the Belliang Army's morale was so abnormally high that, with a single order, it felt like they could launch an attack right this instant.
"By the way, are you sure you should still be hanging around here? What about your work?"
Ernest looked at Robert, who, as the quartermaster, was undoubtedly busy, and wondered just how long he planned to linger.
"Ah, whatever. Things will sort themselves out."
Robert waved his hand dismissively, looking as if he couldn't be bothered.
The capable yet long-suffering non-commissioned officers working for him would handle everything just fine.
"You're the worst superior officer."
"The worst? What do you mean, 'the worst'? I've already finished all my work! Do you think I'm here just goofing off?"
"Then why are you here?"
"I'm here because I can't even catch a break! Come on! What, do you think I'm the 2nd Company Commander or something? Every little job, everybody just calls for me!"
"..."
In peacetime, Major Hans Schum, the Section Chief, dumped every possible task on the 2nd Company, and during combat, Lieutenant Colonel Soren Kaufmann, the Battalion Commander, did the same.
Whenever something needed doing, it always ended up with the 2nd Company because everyone knew Ernest would handle it, no matter what came up.
And Robert, who'd taken on the important role of Battalion Quartermaster with less than a year of military experience, Lieutenant Jimman—the quintessential battalion staff officer—shouldering a never-ending stream of assignments, barely getting any time to rest.
Even if Robert was just an average guy as a field commander, about equal to a platoon leader, when it came to logistics, personnel, or administration, no one his age could compare—he was the best talent for the job.
Not only did Robert have natural ability, but he'd honed it well under his merchant father's tutelage, and his flexibility allowed him to pick up unfamiliar duties easily, drawing on his experience with other kinds of work.
His social skills were exceptional too—if Robert was around, officers from rival departments would set aside their differences and work together efficiently.
"I can never go back to the days before we had Jimman…."
Major Hans Schum, who had played the role of Chief of Staff and been buried under a mountain of work, cherished Robert especially.
When things got busy, as long as Robert was there, everything turned out fine.
For Hans, Ernest and Robert—the so-called troublemakers from the Imperial Military Academy—were like his left and right arms.
Ernest handled everything in the field, and Robert took care of all the paperwork.
Of course, since they worked so hard, Hans took good care of the two of them.
It would have been perfect if only his way of looking after them wasn't trying to secure them lightning-fast promotions with outstanding personnel evaluations they'd never even asked for.
"I just want to retire."
"No way. I'm going to be an instructor at the Imperial Military Academy, so you have to be the Academy's quartermaster too."
"No! I'm retiring! I'll buy a hereditary noble title and live off the money my father made for the rest of my life, just goofing off!"
"You really think they'll let you retire? If I were in charge, I'd never let you go. And what will you do if you can't buy that hereditary title?"
"Like you'll ever be an instructor? You think you'll even stay a captain? No matter what happens—whether the war ends or not—once it's time to step back from the front, you'll be wearing the rank of major, no question about it!"
"...."
"...."
The two eighteen-year-old young men, both so competent the army would never want to let them go, decided to halt a conversation that was only wounding each other.
Muttering to himself, Robert trudged back to Battalion Headquarters.
No sooner had he arrived than Hans, who had been searching for him desperately, dragged him off to tackle yet another mountain of work.
Meanwhile, Ernest stayed busy supervising the sentries, constantly moving around to check on the watchtowers, walls, and condition of the trenches.
Even though we're pointing our muzzles at the enemy from such a close range, this has all become so normal that it hardly feels strange anymore.
Is it really okay to get used to a horrible war like this? Is it right to feel nothing at all in this situation?
I can barely even remember what ordinary life was like anymore.
"My fiancée is coming in a few days. I'll introduce you to her."
"…Oh."
Ernest, who had been feeling a bit down about how he'd grown so accustomed to wartime life, suddenly felt as if he'd been transported back to his days at the Military Academy by Ferdinand's hesitant announcement, delivered after gathering his friends together.
"At last! The day has come—we're finally going to meet Ferdie's girl!"
"Robert, I'm warning you, you'd better not do anything foolish."
"Oh, of course not! How could I, when it's the lady who swept our Ferdie off his feet and turned him into a bundle of nerves!"
Robert darted behind Ernest to avoid Ferdinand's grip, giggling as he teased him.
Ferdinand, his face a bit flushed, tried to catch hold of Robert, while Ernest, dizzy from his friends swirling around him, closed his eyes.
"There's something I absolutely have to ask Ferdinand's fiancée," Ernest said resolutely, his voice serious
"What is it?"
Ignoring Robert's shriek as he was caught in Ferdinand's grip, Baumann turned to Ernest and asked.
Ernest solemnly replied,
"I absolutely have to find out which poem Ferdinand quoted when he whispered sweet nothings to his beloved…"
"Ernest!"
"Wow! So Ferdie really quoted poetry when he confessed his love to his lady!"
"Th—you…!"
As Ferdinand lunged to cover Ernest's mouth, Ernest quickly dodged away, and the freed Robert started teasing Ferdinand.
With these damn bastards spreading out and launching their two-pronged mockery from afar, Ferdinand, left on his own, could only stand there fuming, unable to do anything.
"Come on, are you a child? What's there to be embarrassed about? As a man, you should be proud to be devoted to the woman you love."
Baumann shrugged his shoulders and said to Ferdinand.
Ferdinand, who was usually upright and manly, was always hopelessly flustered whenever something involved his fiancée.
Having met her a few times himself, Baumann couldn't say he didn't understand.
"Wow! I'm really looking forward to this! I'm honestly so excited I feel dizzy! For Ferdie and his lady, let's gather anyone who can play an instrument and prepare a wonderful performance! Ferdie, all you need to do is dance with your beloved!"
"Ferdinand, don't worry. I'll make sure to tell her just how much you love her—and how seriously you pore over poetry books because of it."
"..."
Bang!
Ferdinand glared sharply at the two sons of bitches and stormed out of the room.
He slammed the door so hard it looked like it might come right off its hinges.
"Is there anything we need to know?"
"I've never talked to a noblewoman before. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do."
As soon as Ferdinand left, Ernest and Robert turned to Baumann, seeking advice.
They'd only teased Ferdinand to mess with him, not because they actually meant to do anything stupid.
In front of a friend's fiancée, you're supposed to be polite and respectful.
That's the rule.
Any man who can't manage even that doesn't deserve to call himself one.
"As long as you don't act rude or foolish, you'll be fine," Baumann said with a gentle smile.
"She's probably pretty nervous about meeting Ferdinand's friends, so if anything, just help her feel more at ease."
"Yeah, good point. Knowing Ferdie, he's not exactly overflowing with friends, so he's bound to be nervous. And now he suddenly has two extra friends popping up out of nowhere!"
Robert forced a laugh and cracked a joke, recalling Georg at Baumann's words.
Baumann parted his lips as if to speak, then forced a sad smile.
"But… is Ferdinand's fiancée actually coming here, to the garrison?"
Trying to lighten the suddenly heavier mood, Ernest turned to Baumann with the question.
Since Ferdinand—the one who should have answered—had already fled, he had no choice but to ask Baumann instead.
"Yeah, she is. We can't exactly leave here, after all."
"So, let me get this straight—the fiancée of the Corps Chief of Staff's eldest grandson is coming all the way to the front lines, where we're still facing off with the enemy?"
"…I mean… yeah…?"
Baumann's face went pale, only now realizing the seriousness of the situation—he'd just been thinking a friend's fiancée was visiting, completely missing the gravity of it.
"…Are we screwed?"
Robert muttered, just as pale.
There's no way Ferdinand's fiancée would come all alone to such a dangerous place.
More importantly, Brigadier General Heinz Hartmann—the Corps Chief of Staff—would never send her here unescorted.
The Corps Headquarters would definitely assign an escort.
And once people from Corps Headquarters arrive, there's no way the people on site can just sit back and do nothing.
They'll have to prepare to receive them properly.
"Diiiiiisaaaaaster!"
Lieutenant Robert Jimman, the battalion staff officer and quartermaster, let out a shriek and bolted out of the room.
They had to report to the Higher-Ups that people from Headquarters would be arriving.
And they needed to clean the garrison and prepare thoroughly to prove there were no problems at the front line.
This was not the kind of situation you could just laugh off because a single captain's fiancée was visiting!
As the day wound down and everyone was getting ready for bed on that late evening, the garrison was thrown into a state of emergency in the blink of an eye.
Ferdinand, who had also been called in by Soren, realized what was happening and was so flustered he didn't know what to do.
He'd been so excited about seeing his fiancée that he'd completely forgotten, if only for a moment, what kind of man his grandfather was.
"Oh my god. The whole front is being turned upside down because of just one Little Hartmann. And at this hour, too."
"Wow, this is seriously driving me crazy."
With an unofficial inspection coming from Corps Headquarters, it was only natural that everything would be thrown into chaos.
The entire force deployed on the front was in upheaval now, all because of Little Hartmann—Ferdinand.
The soldiers, with nothing urgent to do, fell blissfully asleep knowing nothing.
But all the officers were urgently summoned for a late-night meeting.
Ferdinand, the main cause of all this trouble, could only drop his head, silent, as everyone glared at him.
Starting at sunrise tomorrow, there would be inspections across the whole front line.
Every day, nonstop, until Ferdinand's fiancée arrived.
And it wouldn't end until the people from Headquarters who came with her had left!
"Damn, we're screwed."
After the emergency meeting, someone muttered that under their breath—and it was true: they really were screwed