novelraw Chapter 3 : Chapter 3
Chapter 3 : Chapter 3
༺ 𓆩 Chapter 3 𓆪 ༻
「Translator — Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
“200 years ago, the Millennium Empire, once the hegemon of the continent, was brought to ruin by the beings of Ashes, entities of unknown origin.”
Those who survived were scattered to the winds, fleeing to all corners of the continent.
But the only ones who managed to survive, even in the most pitiful sense of the word, were those who crossed beyond the harsh and towering mountains of the south, the Vanargand range.
It was the farthest reach of the continent, touching the sea, and the furthest from the ash advancing from the north.
And yet, there was no hope.
Death had merely been delayed.
The ashes were still advancing, swiftly and unstoppably.
But then, just after the fall of the imperial capital, a miracle had occurred.
The ash tide, which had swallowed over half the continent, began to slow. And then, as if halted by an invisible barrier, it stopped entirely, at the Vanargand Mountains.
“It was a miracle granted by a god whose name can no longer be known or remembered.”
Thanks to that miracle, the last surviving prince of the Empire, Seretio von Imperium, was able to rally what remained of the military and the refugees beyond the mountain range.
And through bitter struggle, he drove the beings of Ashes back beyond Vanargand and founded the Military State.
“And His Majesty Seretio von Imperium, the Founder, had three sworn companions. One was Duke Protector, Siegfried Sentinel. Another was Archmagus Duke, Kraft Reeve. And the third—”
“...Was the Duke of Penance, Raven Krieg.”
“You know your history well.”
The red-haired man seated across from Ain Krieg narrowed his perpetually squinting eyes.
His hulking bronze frame made the iron chair beneath him creak with the weight, and a single ring piercing glinted from the center of his lower lip.
With a slow motion, he rolled up the sleeves of his taut black military shirt and brushed a hand over the tiny Bible tucked inside.
"Siegfried Sentinel was originally a loyal subject who served Seretio von Imperium, the founding emperor. who was the youngest prince of the empire and whose life was threatened, not just in succession rights but in his very life.”
He became the Duke Protector, defender of the Military State.
“Kraft Reeve, on the other hand, was a mage. Mages, at least two centuries ago, were somewhat less affected by Petrification Syndrome. He unified their fractured ranks and continued research into the beings of Ashes. As the first Director of Intelligence, he was instrumental in stabilizing the State.”
He became the Archmagus Duke.
And then there was Raven Krieg.
“A lowborn mercenary knight. He joined shortly after the fall of the Millennium Empire, and earned his name leading the Cerberus Rangers across the Vanargand range, fighting where no one else could, and earned merit to become the Duke of Penance.”
Unlike Duke Protector and Archmagus Duke, why he alone was Duke of Penance, even his descendant didn't know.
‘The most likely explanation was that it was meant to remember and mourn the countless souls who perished across the continent…’
Apparently, his forefather had been quite sentimental.
A ridiculous title, honestly...
Either way, over time, the Cerberus Rangers evolved into what was now known as the 13th Special Independent Brigade, tasked with defending the Ironblood Fortress atop the Vanargand range.
...Though it didn't particularly mean anything.
The current Krieg family had no power, let alone being a ducal house, they had less influence than a baron's family in some rural corner.
And the price of that decline? He’d become a walking target. The black hair, the cursed eyes, things once brushed aside when the family had clout were now reasons to whisper behind his back.
‘And I’m the last of the Krieg line. Lucky me.’
Only one descendant was permitted to carry the name Krieg at a time.
Due to the family’s ever-deepening poverty, his mother died giving birth to him.
His father was killed in action when he was still a child.
A fitting, if tragic, end for a house that once stood toe-to-toe with the Sentinels.
“Why are we even talking about this?”
Ain Krieg asked with a bored look, puffing lazily on his mana cigarette.
The red-haired giant across from him, no, the sole military chaplain of the 13th Special Independent Brigade, crinkled his perpetually squinting eyes into something resembling a smile.
“Becuase that is where you come from, Brigade Commander.”
Tap—!!!
He set his black-bound Bible down on the table with a dull thud, then continued.
"You came too late. The disappointment of those who still believed in Krieg, however small their numbers, is too great."
It wasn't something he could particularly deny.
So instead of answering, Ain Krieg crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray and held out his cuffed wrists.
“But I came in the end, didn't I? Think you could unlock these for me, Master Sergeant Rier Yung?”
His eyes skimmed the chaplain’s name tag as he spoke, tone playful, like a nudge between old friends.
C’mon, no need to be formal.
Rier Yung responded with a warm, grandfatherly smile.
Then, without a word, he handed over the same black Bible, unlabeled, unmarked.
“Consider it part of your welcome. Brother Krieg. Whether you like it or not, starting tomorrow… everyone will treat you as the brigade commander.”
With that, Master Sergeant Rier Yung turned and left the room.
Now alone in the shabby, cold little cell, Ain Krieg smirked, clamping another cigarette between his teeth.
“At least no one shot me.”
Of course, muttering that didn’t make the cuffs magically unlock.
༒︎
Ain Krieg was released from temporary quarantine,more accurately, from his one-day confinement, precisely at six in the morning. He stretched out his stiff arms, wordlessly offering his wrists, and Rier Yung, smiling with the same gentle expression as the day before, unlocked the cuffs.
“Did you reflect deeply during your time alone?”
“Thanks to you.”
There was no resentment behind the words.
He’d expected this kind of rough reception. Maybe not exactly a warm welcome, but some form of resistance? That was inevitable.
It wasn’t even inappropriate, procedurally speaking.
...Though, being locked up for a full day had been a bit much. Still, he was willing to let it slide, generously, of course.
“Allow me to formally introduce myself. Master Sergeant Rier Yung of the 13th Special Independent Brigade, Special Support Division.”
“Ain Krieg.”
Rier Yung offered a crisp salute, which Ain acknowledged. With that, the chaplain turned and began walking, motioning for him to follow.
“I’ll escort you to the brigade commander’s office.”
“Major Arditi Günther too busy?”
The question came out dry, after all, having a chaplain meet the returning brigade commander was a breach of every protocol in the book.
But Rier Yung didn’t hesitate in the slightest.
“She is, yes.”
It was true. If Arditi weren’t present, the brigade wouldn’t function. That was simply the reality.
“That critical, huh?”
“It is.”
Military chaplains of the Atonement Order were forbidden to lie.
Which meant there was no exaggeration.
I’ll find out the details soon enough.
So thought Ain Krieg as he followed Rier Yung’s broad back.
Red hair and red eyes.
Narrowed eyes, nearly shut and skin tanned to a bronzed hue.
Roughly 190 centimeters tall, with a physique that looked like it belonged on a mural of mythic warriors.
And the piercing in the center of his lower lip.
‘He looks like a knight officer, through and through.’
If the instructors at the Specialist Officer Academy saw him, they’d be lamenting the loss of a natural talent to the Atonement Order.
That idle thought passed quickly.
Then Ain spoke up.
“You are from Pontus Archipelago, right?”
"...You can tell?"
Even Rier Yung seemed surprised.
His perpetually squinted eyes opened just a fraction as he glanced back.
“That’s rare. No one usually catches that.”
There was, in truth, a slight accent in his Military State common, a faint trace of the archipelago’s dialect. But most mistook it for a southern regional inflection and paid it no mind.
To his curiosity, Ain responded coolly.
“Your lip piercing. Centered like that? It’s considered a lucky charm in the archipelago, isn’t it?”
“You’re well-informed.”
“Had a friend from there once.”
“Would you mind sharing the name?”
“They died. About 200 years ago."
“My condolences.”
Their conversation turned a few heads as passing soldiers tilted their heads in confusion, but neither of the two paid any attention.
They kept walking, unfazed.
And before long, they arrived.
When they finally reached the brigade's main headquarters, Rier Yung spoke up.
“Originally, the acting commander of the 13th, well, we just call it the Cerberus Brigade among ourselves, was not Major Arditi Günther.”
“…Is that so?”
Even Ain Krieg hadn’t known that.
Not that it was surprising.
He’d deliberately kept his distance from anything to do with the Cerberus Brigade for the first five years after graduating from the Military Specialist Academy and joining the Intelligence Bureau.
By the time he’d looked into it, two years ago, Arditi Günther was already serving as acting brigade commander and the 1st Battalion Commander.
‘No, come to think of it, that actually makes sense.’
Major Arditi Günter. She was from the same class as him.
But her family, well, that was a whole different story.
Rank? Career? In the Ministry of Military Affairs, where nobles ran the show, such things were always “flexible.”
“The original acting commander was the former 1st Battalion Commander. Major Günther served under him as a company commander at the time.”
Chiik—!!! Ssupp—!!!
Ain lit another cigarette and exhaled through the smoke.
“A real piece of work, then?”
“In many ways, he was... unfit.”
Rier Yung’s explanation was almost comical.
“He’d already been demoted once due to corruption allegations. But I suppose old habits die hard, he resumed meddling with supplies the moment he arrived. And if that were all, perhaps it could’ve been overlooked, but...”
“There’s more?”
“Whenever he drank, his abuse worsened. Claimed it was all the troops’ fault he’d been sent here. Beating them was routine.”
"It's a wonder he didn't get a hole in the back of his head."
Fragging, that is, intentional friendly fire, wasn't that rare on the frontlines.
Especially not here, where combat was frequent and brutal.
To that, Rier Yung gave a bitter chuckle.
“Well, for that to happen, he’d have needed to go out into combat.”
“Coward too, huh? Real renaissance man.”
Ain couldn’t help but scoff.
The textbook definition of a corrupt officer.
Rier Yung nodded, as if in quiet agreement.
“In any case, around three years ago, then-Major Günther compiled all the evidence and reported it to higher command.”
“They probably brushed it off with a slap on the wrist, didn’t they?”
Who in upper command cared about corruption in a discarded brigade?
Especially with the current military under the firm grip of the Sentinel family.
To the Sentinels’ opposition, the Krieg name wasn’t even a nuisance anymore, it wasn’t worth acknowledging at all.
There was no reason for anyone to touch it.
Rier Yung nodded again and gently rolled the rosary wrapped around his left hand.
“You’re correct. It was a formal reprimand, nothing more.”
A glorified vacation, really.
The bastard even used it as an excuse to visit the central region.
“But unfortunately, during his return to the brigade, he happened to run into a being of Ashes that had ‘accidentally’ crossed the wall. He was killed in action.”
“…‘Accidentally’?”
“A tragic coincidence.”
Hey. You're rolling that rosary like crazy right now.
Ain Krieg shot a cold glance at Rier Yung’s back, unimpressed. But the red-haired giant didn’t bother turning around. He simply chuckled, as if that were an answer.
“This is headquarters. The inner keep of an old Imperial structure. Regal, isn’t it?”
He smoothly changed the subject, patting the shoulders of the guards standing at the entrance.
The soldiers opened the doors with expressions torn between cautious welcome and simmering hostility.
It wasn’t hard to guess which of the two emotions was directed at Ain.
Just as they passed the lobby of the inner keep, a stout, round-faced soldier with a bob of chestnut hair came into view. She halted when she caught sight of them.
“Sergeant Rier. Huh? Who’s that behind you…?”
She blinked for a moment, then muttered in a tone shaded with disbelief.
“Krieg?”
“Correct. Parmilla.”
“Pretty face. What took him so long to crawl back?”
“I haven’t the faintest, haha.”
Sergeant Parmilla shrugged, tossed a half-hearted salute that barely met regulation, and limped off down the corridor with a strange bounce to her gait.
‘Hmm.’
He had no right to complain, not after staying away for seven years.
Still, if everyone treated him with such open disregard, it’d be damn near impossible to establish command authority.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Rier Yung spoke first.
“Sergeant Parmilla. Head cook of the brigade. Since we’re a small independent unit, there’s not a single dish in this place she hasn’t had a hand in.”
"Put in a good word for me. Having talked with her a bit, she doesn't seem like a complete bastard."
“I’ll do my best.”
You never mess with the one who feeds you.
Indeed, that's right.
Hell, even in the Intelligence Bureau, the head of the canteen held more power than the director.
They ascended the stairs and arrived at the brigade commander’s office.
Creaaak—!!!
The hinge whined in protest as they entered.
It wasn’t the most welcoming sound.
Inside, Ain Krieg stepped in and declared with surprising seriousness:
“I’ve been thinking. It’d be shameless to suddenly walk in and start calling myself brigade commander after ignoring this place for seven years. So, how about this, why don’t we keep the acting commander in place, and I’ll take command of the 1st Battalion instead? Call it serving in the field with humility.”
Rier Yung quietly shut the door behind them and stood guard.
Scratch—!!! Thunk—!!!
The only response came from Arditi Günther, who scrawled her final signature on a stack of papers before her. She looked up, eyes sunken with fatigue, clearly she'd pulled an all-nighter.
“Effective February 7th, Military Year 197. I hereby return the acting commander role to Lieutenant Colonel Ain Krieg. I’ll resume duties as the 1st Battalion Commander. That is all.”
As if she had nothing more to say, she stood up without another word, offered a crisp salute, and walked out of the brigade commander’s office without looking back.
Rier Yung followed after her in silence.
Finally left alone in the room, Ain Krieg chuckled bitterly and let his body sink into the couch.
“Mmm.”
A mana cigarette slipped between his lips, and his gaze slowly wandered across the room, only to land on the mountain of paperwork stacked high enough to kiss the ceiling.
“…Hah. Goddamn it.”
And right there, laid out perfectly on the coffee table in front of the couch, was the brigade status report, as if mocking him.
The report's contents were concise and calculated with precise figures.
To summarize, it was simple.
— Among the existing battalions, only the 1st Battalion is fully operational.
— Short on arms, low on ammunition, critical supply shortages.
— Only six commissioned special duty officers remain in the entire brigade.
“…Maybe I should’ve asked for one more day in confinement.”
In short…
The 13th Special Independent Brigade.
Cerberus Brigade.
…On the brink of disbandment.
END σϝ CHAPTER