Chapter 12

Chapter 12

[Translator – Angel Dust]

[Proofreader – ChiSync]

Chapter: 12

Head of the Personnel Administration Department at the Ministry of War, Baden Yorul, was dealing with the aftermath of war and the constant headache of overtime, all while battling progressing hair loss.

“Why on earth are they coming to me...”

Shulifen Rosberg, the eldest son of Count Adrià.

Wilhelm Fritz, the eldest son of Count Gramstadt.

Alexander Edert, the eldest son of the Baron of Bruyne.

Joachim Placen, the eldest son of the Duke of Tierdal.

Why am I suddenly listing prominent noble families’ heirs?

These four individuals recently appeared out of the blue, declaring their intention to enlist as soldiers.

Despite being urged otherwise, they stubbornly made their way even to the rookie training camp.

A few years back, the son of Count Friedrich had done the same.

However, there was a clear distinction between him and the current four.

“Why on earth is our eldest son there?”

“Please send him back immediately. I need to break one of that bastard’s arm.”

“Can you tell him that his mother is anxiously looking for him...”

“Tell him that if he doesn’t crawl back to the main house right away, I’ll kick him out.”

Indeed, the news of their enlistment had spread throughout the town long before.

While Count Friedrich’s son had quietly enlisted and completed their training before the news broke, these four had already become the talk of the town even before applying for enlistment.

Moreover, the situation at the Ministry of War was vastly different then and now.

Back then, there was a desperate need to boost the morale of the Imperial Army through propaganda.

Amidst this, the sudden enlistment of noble heirs with blue blood was seen as a stroke of luck.

It was heavily publicized, resulting in them being decorated with honors, thus a resounding success.

However, now, there’s no war raging on. The army has already achieved victory, with no need to further bolster their morale.

So why should I bother with the troublesome heirs of the nobility and the sons of the imperial high families?

“All four of you are unfit for service. Leave immediately.”

I attempted to send them away. I didn’t particularly care whether the noble families killed or saved them.

However, the four adamantly refused to leave.

We came here at the command of Karl, and we’ll leave only at the command of Karl! they declared, with a bizarre mix of determination and reverence for Karl, the very person in question.

Thanks to this, the few remaining strands of my hair eventually succumbed heroically.

How could I withstand the pressure of his already difficult duties while being pestered by the two barons and two imperial high family heirs?

And yet, the sons showed no intention of leaving willingly.

In the end, I decided to resort to the final option. I called for Sergeant Karl Adelheit, a distinguished recipient of the Medal of Honor.

“Why on earth did those individuals mention his name! Sergeant Karl! A recipient of the Medal of Honor! He saved our soldiers, so he should save me too, right? Please. Please! Save me!!”

And the next day,

A recipient of the Medal of Honor appeared at the Ministry of War headquarters.

* * *

“....”

Damn. This is messed up. Really messed up. There’s no sugarcoating it.

What happened to being a nobleman? If you were in my shoes, would you be able to go to the Ministry of War and just laugh it off when they send someone saying, ‘Sir, we have a problem, and we were hoping you could help us solve it. So please come quickly!’?

Even Jesus, Buddha, and all other deities would be like, ‘Uh, this is a bit much.’

“We’ve arrived. Please step out.”

Phew.... In the end, I came. To the Ministry of War. A place that could be considered the headquarters of the Imperial Army.

Suddenly, I felt a desperate craving for a cigarette. I hadn’t smoked since my past life.

Ah, the wisdom of our old seniors who used to say, ‘A cigarette after a meal is the real deal’...

“Ranshtak!”

The thunderous salute made me momentarily think it was the soldiers. But once again, my expectations were pleasantly defied.

“Sergeant Karl Adelheit, welcome to the Ministry of War!”

I’m worried it might lead to PTSD. Especially since I had a dream of going back to being a recruit yesterday... Is this some kind of premonition?

* * *

Hmm. Hmm―

A melodious humming. A pair of slender, white thighs resting on the desk.

The ears of the woman were much longer and sharper than those of an ordinary human.

“Miss Eloise.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re here?”

With a sparkling smile, she gently gestured.

Then, a man with pointed ears approached the woman.

“Report.”

“Yes. According to the latest news from the Empire...”

The obvious, and therefore uninteresting.

In such cases, I’d rather find the answers in those seemingly nonsensical, whimsical musings of the Eastern philosophy or the Romantic folktale. They are much more intriguing.

“...Ah, and also, there’s a new Medal of Honor recipient from the Empire’s side.”

“Is that so?”

“Furthermore, it’s not a posthumous recipient, but a living one.”

“Oh?”

The woman changes her posture with a sigh of admiration.

The curves of her upper body are clearly visible through what could be clothing or scraps of fabric.

It was something that could captivate the hearts of many men, but the man before her was visibly tense.

Well, he had every reason to be, considering this woman was the monster who didn’t hesitate to slit the throats of her own kin.

“What kind of person is it? It’s probably a man, right?”

“Yes. Karl Adelheit. A sergeant in the Imperial Army. An unusual case as he enlisted as a noble.”

“He’s crazy, huh?”

“And the medal is for rescuing allies.”

“Rescuing allies, huh. Is that it? Nothing more?”

“Yes. That’s all.”

“Strange.”

Even though those Luzerne folks may be a pain, their handling of matters isn’t shabby.

Running her fingers through her hair, she spoke.

“Find out more. Honestly, does it make sense that it’s just about rescuing allies? Clearly, he must have single-handedly shot at least dozens of those Luzerne soldiers. Quickly.”

“Understood. Lady Eloise.”

“And what did I ask you to look into separately?”

At her question, the male elf lowers his head with a tense expression.

“Still?”

“From what I’ve seen, it seems like it was just a simple coincidence.”

“A coincidence? Oh, I see. A coincidence, huh? Hm? It was just a coincidence. A coincidence! The leader of those Mafra bastards who were planning a full-scale assault on the Empire coincidentally got shot, and then, they coincidentally had internal strife. And by some miraculous coincidence, the Empire emerged victorious? Wow! What a coincidence!”

“...I apologize.”

“Find him. He’s undoubtedly a sharpshooter in the Imperial Army. The war is over, so it’s about time to gradually reveal my specialization.”

In a moment, the man blurts out a question unintentionally.

“If you find him, what do you intend to do?”

“What am I going to do?”

The Elven-aligned Pigeon Faction, the Hyzens. The clandestine extermination unit nurtured there.

The commander of that unit, Eloise, smiles as she licks her lips with her tongue.

“He stole from my plate, so I should torment him a little. And then... hmm. What should I do next? Maybe I’ll make a half-elf with that human?”

“....”

“Ahahaha! Just kidding. Just kidding.”

[Translator – Angel Dust]

[Proofreader – ChiSync]