novelraw Chapter 21 : Chapter 21
Chapter 21 : Chapter 21
༺ 𓆩 Chapter 21 𓆪 ༻
「Translator — Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
The Vanargand Ironblood Fortress.
Appearance of a Dual Number.
Dual Number, Number 98, Reaper of Ash. Two confirmed entities.
Engagement began: 2:12 PM.
Engagement ended: 2:44 PM.
Target eliminated.
The report submitted to the 10th Corps was as concise as could be, yet its contents alone were enough to throw not only the Corps's staff officers but even the higher command of Marshal Rosenthal’s office into disarray.
“…Eliminated?”
“By the Cerberus Brigade? That ragged outfit?”
The 10th Corps had already deployed two divisions forward of the Siegfried Line, braced to hold against the monsters’ advance, with the Dual Numbers foremost among them. But before doubts and disputes could even be raised, a short, unofficial transmission had reached High Command from Sergeant Vermin, the very man who had been consigned as a disposable pawn.
―No omissions or distortions in the report.
The words came from a chaplain of the Atonement Order; they could not simply be dismissed. And so not only the staff, but even the field commanders found themselves clutching their heads, wondering just what was happening.
There was, however, another problem.
Namely, the speech delivered to the surviving soldiers.
― We must return to the Empire.
― The beings of Ashes are moving.
Even the Cerberus Brigade soldiers who had heard those words directly questioned their own ears.
Some even wondered, in all seriousness, if the medicine they had received in the infirmary had not been painkillers or anti-inflammatories at all, but hallucinogens.
Yet Ain Krieg, after uttering those words, simply entered several days of convalescence, making no further gestures of any kind.
.
.
.
And at that same hour, within the Intelligence Bureau.
Bang—!!!
The door burst open with a violent crack.
No, not merely open, the frame itself splintered slightly under the impact.
Which meant Division Chief Retton Atomic of the Bureau’s 5th Division would have to replace it yet again. Naturally, his brow furrowed as he adjusted the rimless glasses on his nose.
“Haa…”
A sigh slipped from him unbidden.
Ain Krieg might have disappeared from their hands, but the Bureau’s dogs still would not leave him in peace. He was already drowning in overtime, exhausted to the bone.
Yet his irritation vanished the moment he saw who had stormed into his office.
“…Director?”
Indeed, she strode straight into the room and collapsed onto the sofa as if it were her own.
Compared to the lunatics who made up most of the Bureau, she was one of the very few superiors who could be called remotely sane.
Colonel Retton Atomic blinked in startled confusion.
“What brings you here?”
“Gods damn it all…”
Instead of answering, she dropped a folder of documents on the table and ran a hand through her short violet hair, mussing it further; then she adjusted the eyepatch over her left eye and clamped a thick cigar between her lips.
“Read it. Retton.”
“…Surely not.”
A chill passed down his spine at the thought.
There was only one man alive who could infuriate the Bureau Director, one man, and one alone.
And yet he denied it.
It could not be. Surely he had not already caused a scandal.
Could such a man even be called human?
“…That fucking bastard.”
But, as the saying went, ill omens always prove true.
Atomic flipped open the folder Director Lucy Mörner had handed him, scanned the report, and spat the curse through clenched teeth before collapsing heavily into the sofa.
Perhaps it was pity at his reaction.
Or perhaps the nicotine finally burrowing into her lungs dulled the sharp edge of her anger.
Either way, Director Lucy Mörner exhaled and spoke at last.
“This is my mistake. I should have buried that bastard in the Bureau and never let him crawl out.”
“…No. I should have squeezed my eyes shut and put a bullet through him the day he came to me.”
To an outsider, the words might have sounded like dark humor.
But between the two of them, there was no jest.
Had Ain Krieg’s grinning face been before them at that moment, both would gladly have smashed it in.
Unfortunately, the man was far away, barking and howling up in the North.
“Too late. Half the players have already caught the scent.”
“They would have.”
The beings of Ashes were pressing in on the Military State once again.
The reason the Bureau had buried that truth under the highest seal of secrecy was simple.
It was not about factional politics.
It was because the very foundation of the Military State might tremble.
“…This was my failure.”
At Retton Atomic’s words, Lucy Morner shook her head.
She hadn’t come to chastise him in the first place, and besides, part of her had already accounted for the possibility that Ain Krieg might do something exactly like this.
“The chances were less than ten percent. I just forgot the bastard’s a rabid dog.”
What Krieg wanted was simple.
Not to awaken the Military State as a whole, not to rouse the people into resisting the beings of Ashes, not to strike some noble alarm. No, this was a fire-dance. A fire-dance on a butcher’s blade, upside down, kicking about with a ninety-percent chance of death.
“If the Sentinels catch the scent, things will only grow more complicated.”
“Of course. It’ll be the perfect excuse for them to parade those monstrosities lined up along the border.”
The only small comfort was that the Sentinel agent who had been sniffing around had been silenced before they could submit their report to the higher-ups.
But that was hardly reassurance.
Time had been bought, nothing more.
With hundreds of soldiers having heard Krieg’s speech, the words would inevitably leak.
“…Why would he set this mess off in the first place?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? Haa…”
Lucy Morner and Retton Atomic knew Ain Krieg well.
They knew he was a reckless mongrel; they knew he was infuriatingly competent.
And above all, they knew that he genuinely believed in the Reclamation of the Empire, that long-dead dream now dismissed as folly.
“To be precise, he wants a return to the Imperial capital.”
“And that’s the same damn thing. Hell, even if he shouts a hundred times over that there’s some way to destroy the beings of Ashes there, he’s got nothing—no proof, no evidence at all.”
With a sigh, Lucy tapped the ash of her cigar into the tray, then rose from her seat.
“What’s done is done. Clean up what we can. If necessary, I’ll requisition personnel from the other divisions to support you. Delay the information as long as possible.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
They both knew it couldn’t be hidden forever.
But neither was this the sort of secret some rogue officer could toss around lightly, as though it were nothing.
“And Ain Krieg. That goddamn bastard’s mouth—”
It was then.
Knock—!!! Knock—!!!
The broken latch gave way and the door creaked open. Aide-de-camp to Director Lucy Morner stepped in cautiously and spoke.
“…The Sentinels have requested a meeting of the High Command.”
“Ha… ha ha.”
The meaning was simple; the Sentinels had caught the scent.
And that was, in truth, utterly fucked.
༒︎
‘By now, the Director must be grinding her teeth, wishing me dead.’
Ain Krieg scratched at his ear with a faint grin tugging at his lips.
‘It wasn’t something I did without thought.’
If anything, it was the opposite.
For the Cerberus Brigade to survive, and for him to bargain properly with the Sentinels, who were carving up the Military State like a ripe fruit, this fire-dance had been necessary.
‘Of course, the Dual Number hadn’t been part of the plan.’
Still, the situation had changed.
Just then—
Creak—!!!
For the first time in days, the door to the brigade commander’s office opened, and Major Arditi Günther entered, saluting smartly.
“Are you feeling any better, sir?”
“Was that concern I heard?”
“...............”
She gave no reply. Instead she seated herself on the sofa.
Cold as ever.
Still, the Vanargand Ironblood Fortress had weathered the crisis true to its name, suffering no irreparable damage. Granted, all ten of its remaining intact fixed artillery batteries had been wrecked, and without the two companies of reinforcements even basic routines would have collapsed.
But the chaos of a few days past had been, to some extent, subdued.
“The bodies of the fallen have been gathered and will be delivered to their families. One hundred and twenty-eight soldiers, judged unfit for further service, are to be sent to rear hospitals.”
As always, Arditi Günther’s report was terse, accurate, and without embellishment.
“However, there are… concerning matters.”
“Such as?”
“Resupply needs have been partly covered by materials dispatched from the 6th Logistics Brigade, so we do have reserves. But the general atmosphere among the men is… unsettled.”
No surprise there.
They had endured that slaughter only days ago, and then, unwillingly, they had been confronted with a truth they could not unhear.
Hiss—!!! Inhale—!!!
Ain Krieg lit a mana cigarette and exhaled.
Then he answered her carefully chosen words with bluntness.
“You can say it plain, Major.”
“…Sir?”
“Tell me the mood of the men, without dressing it up.”
She hesitated briefly.
Then, as though deciding at last, she met his eyes and spoke.
“The brigade commander’s insane. None of us thought we’d get someone even crazier than the last one.”
“They’re all praying the brigade gets dissolved or reassigned, just so they can get out of this cursed fortress.”
“Sure, they’re grateful you saved their skins, but they think you must be high on something.”
After that, she averted her gaze, as if she had let too much sincerity slip through.
…There was some truth to that, wasn’t there?
But ignoring his glance, she continued.
“It’s only natural. The words you delivered to them were… shocking.”
And she wasn’t wrong.
What age was this?
An age when the railways could take one across the country in a single day, when the airships of the Wright brothers allowed man to soar through the skies; they might still be little more than toys, but the era was shifting fast.
And yet, Reclamation of the Empire?
Truthfully, even she had come here tonight to ask him what he truly meant.
“Commander.”
She began cautiously, her eyes fixed on him.
She had the right to speak so. For when every other house had turned its back on the Kriegs, the Günther line alone had not betrayed them.
And there were points she had pieced together.
“Is this because of the Krieg family?”
“Is that the conclusion you’ve drawn?”
“Yes.”
It wasn’t about his ideology, nor his stated goals.
Ain Krieg’s actions were patently aberrant, reckless, and altogether defiant of convention.
“When you went to the Intelligence Bureau, I felt disappointment, but I also understood.”
For she too had been in a similar position.
She had assumed it was merely a choice for survival.
“When you returned, though, all I felt was bewilderment. And questions.”
Seven years.
What could he possibly hope to find here?
In this ruin where even the name Krieg had faded, there was nothing for him to gain.
But after the reconnaissance mission, the battle of a few days past, and the days of his absence in which she had turned over every detail in her mind, she had come to a realization.
“There were three.”
The Dual Number. Reapers of Ash. There had been three of them.
“You hunted the monster that wiped out Doggins’ squad. And then, the other two as well.”
The reason she knew was simple.
The two creatures butchered atop the walls had been clad in desiccated, half-mummified human skins.
And when that truth struck her, the first feeling she felt was not betrayal, nor suspicion.
It was expectation.
Followed by an endless meditation on his true purpose.
And at last, she had reached her conclusion.
“Reclamation of the Empire is only a pretext. You’re setting the board to break free from the Sentinel family, aren’t you?”
His service with the Intelligence Bureau, which opposed the Sentinels.
The way he had hidden strength equal to a Grade 1 Knight Officer behind the façade of a mere Grade 3. And above all, his choice to invoke “Reclamation of the Empire,” that archaic creed, the very root of Krieg ideology.
…All of it made sense, if Ain Krieg’s true intent was to stand against the Sentinels.
Tap—!!!
He listened to her words without interruption, quietly flicking the ash of his cigarette into the tray; then, at last, he opened his mouth to respond. Or would have, had it not been for the sound of approaching boots outside, and the knock upon the door.
Creak—!!!
The door opened, and in stepped a man with long greyed hair and a deep scar slashing across his face.
“My apologies for interrupting.”
Captain Johan Gerner looked at the two of them and spoke.
“The Ministry of Military Affairs has summoned you, Brigade Commander.”
Unfortunately, it seemed the answer would have to wait.
The Sentinels had taken the bait.
END σϝ CHAPTER
Do not forget to read my other novels :-
⟿ How to Honor The Goddess
⟿ The Margrave's 10th-Class Ne'er-do-well