Chapter 17
It looked like it would take another week to completely clear the chaotic front lines.
Since most of the colossi were waiting at headquarters, the troops who arrived at this front had to spend half a day just shoving goblin and Orc corpses into the trenches and burning them.
Yet despite the grueling work, the soldiers' faces were bright.
For over ten years the frontier front had stagnated, tormenting soldiers endlessly and spitting out countless corpses. The endless tug-of-war, the battles that seemed as if they would never end-today they had finally ended in victory.
"You all worked hard today. Drinking on the front is forbidden, but this time I'll let it slide."
"Commander, what you're doing now isn't letting it slide-it's joining in, isn't it?"
"Hah, shut that mouth of yours. That's an order from your commander."
"Hahahaha!!!"
A sweet victory.
The victory won after countless sacrifices was overwhelmingly sweet. The soldiers, having thrown a feast with the supplies the elves had left behind, had collapsed asleep wherever they lay, leaving only the barest watch.
If an assault came now, they'd be wiped out in under five minutes with such lax discipline.
But no one blamed them. The only ones who could blame them were the officers sitting around this campfire.
"Here. Have a drink."
"Thank you!"
"Never thought I'd get to drink with the Commander himself. What a life."
Of the more than one hundred infantry officers sent in, only about ten survived.
Excluding those being treated in the rear for their wounds, only six sat around this fire sharing drinks-Cain and Yaan among them.
"Talk about coincidence. Aside from the Commander, only one regular officer survived."
"Well, for you this was just a stopover. Observe one battle and get reassigned. Officers who've seen real action are few."
"We're the ones who actually fight-nothing strange about that."
"Did you see the commander? The one saying there'd be mines, sending his flunkies in first? Kekeke."
"Turns out there really were mines-two of them died. Anyway, the big shot's head's still rolling."
Remembering the dead company commander-no, the pot-bellied commander-the officers' faces twisted into bitter smiles.
In the Penal Corps, any rank above noncom was worthless. They didn't get better weapons; their lives didn't improve. They starved like everyone else, only with more responsibility.
Yet at the same time, those ranks were growth rings.
The longer you survived, the higher your rank became, so everyone here wearing sergeant's stripes or higher had lived through at least two or three years of this hell.
'These men-unlike officers obsessed with promotion and their own lives, they're the real deal.'
Thinking that, Cain studied their faces carefully.
Sharing drinks with the Commander, a colonel-level officer, even the heir of the Lorenz family-one of the highest noble houses-was a luxury even renowned knights rarely enjoyed.
That the Commander himself had arranged this gathering meant it was no ordinary drinking party.
Whether they knew that or not, the Penal Corps officers were lost in the liquor and food before them.
Among them sat a slight officer, awkward and unsure.
"Second Lieutenant Dandel. Why so quiet? Have a drink too."
"Ah, no! I-I didn't do anything noteworthy compared to everyone else...."
"Surviving this battle is a great feat in itself. Second Lieutenant. That's an order-take it."
"Ah-yes, sir! Thank you!"
With both hands Dandel held out his cup.
Seeing this, the noncoms snickered and chimed in.
"If the Second Lieutenant accepts it so politely, we'll be guilty of disrespect."
"Huh? What, I barely made it out alive and now I'm getting shot when we get back?"
"Screw going back! It's summary execution, punk!"
The Penal Corps men burst into laughter after that.
Even after the battle, they could joke so casually about firing squads and executions-Dandel never got used to it.
To Dandel, forcing an awkward smile, Yaan spoke quietly.
"This unit's mostly like that. Don't let it bother you."
"Ah-r-right... I'll keep that in mind."
The noncoms chuckled at Dandel's short reply as Yaan quietly sipped his drink.
"Still, Corporal Yaan-you made it out alive."
"Not just made it-he's got the colossus and the girl pining for him. Talk about turning life around!"
"We're jealous, Corporal."
Hearing their banter, Yaan asked, puzzled.
"What, the girl?"
"Playing dumb won't work. Rumor spread through the whole unit that the 'Snow-Flower Fairy' from the dig team visits your quarters every day."
"Other officers and knights tried so hard just to talk to her, but she wouldn't bat an eye. You know?"
They looked at Yaan as they spoke, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
'Those promising elites would gain nothing by getting involved with that woman.'
A colossus that killed or spared its pilot at will.
The device embedded in the back of his neck.
A body half-paralyzed every time he sortied.
And a conversation style like twenty questions that could flip a listener inside out after three sentences.
One look at her face and he thought the risk was too high.
"Think whatever you like."
"Really? We can think whatever we want?"
"Can we write it in a book afterward?"
"You can't even write, punk-what book!"
Laughter erupted again.
Feeling the warmth beneath their jokes and curses, Dandel spoke to Yaan with a touch of envy.
"Still, Corporal Yaan, it's good so many comrades survived...."
"Comrades you know?"
Dandel smiled wryly at the question.
"From the way you talk, it doesn't sound like you only met yesterday. It's good you still have kindred spirits."
"What are you talking about, Second Lieutenant?"
"Today's the first time we've met."
Pfft-
At the noncoms' answer, Dandel spat out his drink.
Acting like old friends from home, and they only met today?
Dandel stared at them in disbelief.
But Yaan merely shrugged, unbothered.
"Even if we just met, those who've survived this long treat each other this way. We could die any moment."
"Ah... is that so...?"
He half understood.
Dandel forced an awkward smile as the noncoms chuckled.
"Still, anyone who's rolled around this front long enough has heard of Corporal Yaan."
"Right. Ten whole years? On this ground where living a day is like plucking a star from the sky."
"Plenty of the men wanted to meet you, Corporal."
Hearing this, Dandel asked curiously.
"But Corporal, you're lower rank than them. Why the honorifics...?"
"Ah, originally he was a Second Lieutenant. Got demoted while covering the officers' backs."
"Demoted? Covering their backs?"
Dandel pressed.
A noncom started to speak, loosened by drink, but Yaan cut in.
"In the Penal Corps, rank isn't by rank-it's by time. Just remember that."
With that brief answer, Yaan fell silent.
The noncoms seemed to have more to say, but kept quiet.
"I'll be going now. Corporal Yaan, will you accompany me?"
"Understood."
Cain rose as he spoke.
Dandel started to stand as well, but the noncoms, now friendly, held him back.
"Second Lieutenant, you stay here. You've plenty to talk about with them."
"Ah-yes. Thank you."
Dandel felt the same way-when you had fought side-by-side at the very front, you could not help but feel something special for those comrades.
While the noncoms, their tension gone once the officers had left, teased Dandel and the drinking deepened, Yaan and Cain climbed up to the open ground where the elves' headquarters had once stood.
Across the way, the Empire's headquarters glimmered with faint lights.
"You said you wanted to become a knight, didn't you?"
"Pardon."
"May I ask why?"
Cain asked the question, but Yaan offered no answer.
"...I have given it some thought. The reason you want to become a knight."
"...."
Having spoken, Cain quietly regarded the softly glowing Imperial headquarters.
"If you simply wished to leave this front or be discharged, knighthood is a post you ought to avoid. You have no intention of quitting the army."
Without pause Cain went on.
"Wealth and fame? All you need is to ride that colossus of yours to neutral Janskarl. No one would stop you."
Eyes that looked upon enemy lines rather than our own camp.
Watching Cain as his cloak, filthy with dust, flapped in the wind, Yaan still said nothing.
"Yet you said you would become a knight in this Empire. What is it you can gain only by doing so? Thinking about that, the pieces clicked together because of one thing you said."
'What became of Randel?'
The expression you showed when I asked that.
Recalling that weapon-like smile, Cain smiled bitterly and looked back at him.
"Is Randel only the beginning?"
"I do not understand what you mean."
Mentioning Randel's name, Yaan feigned ignorance without betraying a flicker of emotion.
"The soldiers recovered Sir Randel's corpse. Shot by an elven pistol, right in the middle of the forehead."
"...."
Yaan still said nothing. Yet Cain, watching him, kept pressing quietly.
"In a battle between colossi, opening the cockpit hatch and killing the knight inside... is impossible. Either you tear apart the entire cockpit, or you capture him to extract information."
Either be taken alive, or be shattered together with the Frame.
The final fate of a knight defeated in battle is forced to choose between only these two. A story still beyond the ken of Yaan, who had only just begun to ride a colossus.
"After ten years on this front, having one captured weapon is hardly surprising. Am I wrong?"
"I-"
Yaan opened his mouth to object, then closed it again. The man before him was not someone who would be fooled by a hastily made-up lie.
"But at the same time you must have thought: such luck will never come twice. Then what do you need? You need the right to kill them legally. For instance-"
"...."
"A privilege reserved only for Imperial knights. A duel."
Saying so, Cain turned and looked straight at Yaan's face and grinned.
Correct.
"Yan Verkut. What do you intend to do with the Belkuth family?"
At his question, Yaan's fist clenched so tightly that blood oozed from his fingernails digging into his palm.
"I will wipe them from the face of this world."
Belkuth.
If one speaks of the ducal House of Lorenz as producing the Empire's finest knights, then the House of Count Belkuth is known for producing the greatest number of knights.
The Belkuth family, now core to the Imperial knightly orders, is of a scale rivaling the Empire's two ducal houses, Lorenz and Baderfeld.
In a single generation they rose from nameless, ruined frontier nobles to become the paragon of new aristocracy.
And you would erase that house?
A mere corporal?
"As a member of the Imperial Army, that is an unacceptable goal."
"I am aware."
Yaan's expression did not change as he answered Cain's probing.
"On the strength of that remark alone I could have you court-martialed and, by my authority, summarily executed."
"If you wish it, do so."
His answer was brief, yet his heart was no calmer than his face.
All he held was a single antique colossus, while his opponent was the heir to House Lorenz, holder of the Empire's highest authority.
It was a gamble.
Ten years in a pit from which he could fall no further.
A last chance he would ever get.
Despair-resigned to die anyway if not with this man.
"Seems I chose my man well after all."
Cain murmured, grinning.
"You are not the only one who bears a grudge against that house."
Having spoken, Cain cast off the cloak he wore and let the wind carry it away.
The cloak, bearing the Empire's seal, was borne on the wind into a brazier where goblin corpses burned, yet Cain's face remained serene as he watched.
"A knight shot dead is easily suspect. Smash the corpse inside the Frame. I'll take care of the rest."
The man who spoke without hesitation of crushing a knight's corpse was clearly different from the one who had first arrived here.
Or perhaps this was his true face. Yaan thought so, but said nothing.
"Understood."
"Good. In two days someone from headquarters will come. Have it done by then."
With that the conversation ended. Watching Cain turn first and head back to the officers' drinking circle, Yaan soon vanished into the darkness.
Far too much remained to be done for revenge.