Chapter 195 - Sitting Across from the Enemy Marshal (19)
The new front line between the Mihahil Empire and the Kingdom of Konchanya now stretched to the seaside, where the weather stayed relatively mild even in winter.
But lately, it was starting to get cold—cold enough that no one could just laugh it off anymore.
"Do you remember when we were at the military academy?"
"Remember what?"
"Talking about fighting a war in winter."
"Oh, that. Of course I remember."
At Ernest's question, Robert waved it away.
"We always said it was a fool's errand. No matter how much we grumbled, Instructor Kohler's teachings were never wrong."
The memories came flooding back—Grimman in winter, lying prone in the snow-covered forest, using whatever cover we could find to train.
Even at the young age of fourteen, you could truly feel in your bones just how brutal winter was as a time for war.
"When are we going to pull back, I wonder?"
As Ernest muttered, Robert let out a long sigh.
"If you don't know, how would I?"
The forest, which could have shifted the front lines, had fallen into a complete stalemate.
And with Konchanya having lost half of the forest to the Imperial Army, it was now becoming nearly impossible for them to maintain their defensive line in the hilly area.
Would they continue to hold their position, believing that Bertrand would completely block the Imperial Army's advance through the forest?
Or would they retreat from the defensive line they'd worked so hard to build, just for the sake of safety?
From Konchanya's perspective, neither option could have been appealing But from a rational perspective, pulling back the defensive line was clearly the right move.
Anyone could see that.
And yet, Konchanya still hadn't retreated.
Were they really planning to continue the war like this?
The fighting on the Eastern Front was said to still be fierce—were they relying on that and planning to keep fighting?
"We're not going to end up fighting again, are we?"
Robert muttered nervously.
Ernest couldn't answer that. By all logic, it shouldn't happen, but this war had taught him just how easily common sense could collapse.
"If it's Count Lafayette, he wouldn't want to fight. But has he gained enough influence within the Konchanya Army to actually stop the fighting?"
After promising to halt the battle through his secret meeting with Bertrand, Ernest felt truly conflicted.
On one hand, he hoped Bertrand would gain enough sway within the Konchanya Army to prevent more fighting; on the other, the last thing he wanted was for Bertrand to become the actual leader steering Konchanya's war.
"I just want to go home."
"Me too."
In the end, all Ernest could say was that he wanted to end this damn war and return home. Robert agreed completely.
The soldiers on the front lines spent every day on edge, uneasy about the Konchanya Army's refusal to retreat.
But before long, good news arrived.
"Konchanya's pulled back!"
"At last!"
On the eastern edge of the front in the hilly area, right up against the forest, the Konchanya Army had suddenly withdrawn their troops from their defensive line.
After the forest was split in half between the Imperial Army and the Belliang Army, they had begun carefully constructing a new defensive line behind the old one, further back on the hills.
Of course, the Konchanya Army hadn't abandoned the hilly area entirely.
The only part they withdrew from was a portion of their eastern defense line.
Only the eastern end of the front, which had stretched out from east to west, now sloped down southward. Still, what this signaled was significant: Konchanya had given up on reclaiming the forest and chosen to maintain the current situation.
"So this really is the end."
"We just have to hang on until the official declaration of the war's end now."
Ferdinand and Baumann laughed as they said this after hearing the news.
It seemed the higher-ups were finally convinced there would be no more battles and began methodically moving forward with all the plans they had put off.
First, for the soldiers who had been struggling, living in makeshift tents in the forest, construction began on a proper garrison.
"Damn it all! We finally finish building outposts, and now they've got us doing real construction!"
Of course, the soldiers had to provide the labor for building the garrison as well. But this time, they were promised extra pay, and since they were building a place where they themselves would stay, everyone was eager to work.
With the soldiers putting their honed construction skills on display and even Baltrachers joining in, the garrison shot up at a frightening speed.
Still, it couldn't be finished before winter arrived.
They did everything they could to build enough barracks for the soldiers to rest in, but even that wasn't done in time, so everyone was crammed into the few barracks available, huddled together against the cold.
In these circumstances, even a noble officer couldn't have a room to himself. Ernest and Robert ended up sharing a room.
"...."
"Stop, stop. I need a break."
"...."
"Oh, don't come any closer! I said don't come near me!"
"Robert, make your choice. Do you want to study in a warm room, or would you rather work outside in the cold?"
"Aaaargh!"
It felt just like their days back at the Imperial Military Academy.
Ruthless Ernest relentlessly subjected poor Robert to harsh psychological torture.
Soon, Robert was set to become the quartermaster, which would get him out from under Ernest's grip, so Ernest decided to subject him to one last round of torment, taking twisted pleasure in it.
The unfortunate Robert suffered daily tortures at the hands of Ernest, who forced him to study the data he had pilfered from the soon-to-be-replaced quartermaster.
"I just want to stay here as the 1st Platoon Leader forever!"
Of course, Robert was well aware he'd soon become quartermaster and resisted.
"Quartermaster suits you perfectly, Robert."
"If that's how it's going to be, you should've sent me to logistics from the start! They work us to the bone as infantry platoon leaders on the battlefield, and then as soon as the fighting's over, they ship us off to quartermaster duty!"
"Oh my, you sound so wronged. But that doesn't change the fact that you're going to be the quartermaster. The decision was made quite a while ago."
"Why was the position filled without telling me—the person involved?"
"Do you think the Regimental Commander needs to get permission from some lowly lieutenant just to change his assignment?"
"Damn it! …Fair point!"
Knowing that as long as he was a mere soldier, Quartermaster Robert Jimman couldn't go against the decisions of the higher-ups, he finally gave in and accepted reality.
Then winter settled in for good.
After both sides tacitly agreed to a complete ceasefire at the front, they reduced their troop deployments, and something everyone had been waiting for finally began.
"Captain Kissinger, next time I see you, you'll be a major," said the Battalion Commander.
"And by then, you'll be a colonel, sir."
"Don't even joke about something so dreadful."
Due to the war, Captain Andersen Kissinger's promotion to major had been delayed by nearly nine months, but he was finally moving up.
A new 3rd Company Commander arrived to replace Andersen, and Andersen left the 1st Battalion for his promotion and new posting.
After bidding farewell to Soren, Andersen shook hands warmly with the other officers as he said his goodbyes.
"So we'll finally be equals. If things had gone as planned, Captain Kissinger, you would have become a major before me."
Major Hans Schum grinned playfully at Andersen.
If the war hadn't broken out, Andersen would've been promoted nine months earlier than Hans and outranked him by at least half a year.
"If you get hung up on every little thing like that, how are you going to survive in the army?"
"Hahaha! That's true! There are even officers who were promoted from second lieutenant to captain in less than two months!"
Andersen, who had always treated Hans with such formality, replied slyly, prompting Hans to burst out laughing and agree.
Ernest and Ferdinand, who had both gone from second lieutenant to captain in less than two months, gave wry smiles.
After saying his goodbyes to Hans, Andersen shook hands with the two company commanders, both of whom were remarkably competent—and stubborn—for their age, and said,
"For people so young, your heads are as hard as stones. Thanks to you, it felt like not a drop of blood was flowing—you made things really tough on me."
"...."
"...."
With Andersen's words ringing true, the blockheads had nothing to say.
"A person needs to know how to bend a little—if you're too unyielding, you're bound to snap. The way things are going, I feel like I'll be meeting you both again as majors soon enough, but I hope you learn to be a bit more flexible by then. If you carry on like this, I honestly don't think I'll be able to stand it."
"Well… I suppose…."
"Let's meet again sometime."
Uncertain whether Andersen's words were criticism or advice, Ernest mumbled a vague reply, while Ferdinand pretended not to hear and simply said his farewell.
Ernest was annoyed to be lumped together with Ferdinand, the real blockhead himself, when it came to such criticisms.
Still, compared to Ferdinand, wasn't he soft and adaptable as water?
But the very fact of being compared to Ferdinand was already abnormal.
It was only because Ferdinand was there that Ernest seemed flexible; in any other unit, he would have been branded the worst blockhead without question.
After all, wasn't Ernest the only one who had managed, on several occasions, to break through Ferdinand's stubbornness?
No one else would even dare to try.
Andersen, who had fought alongside them on the battlefield for so long, was gone now, and some of the battalion staff officers had also been promoted and moved on.
Robert, who had been slated to become the next 1st Battalion quartermaster, officially took up the role.
"Platoon Leader…"
"Hey, I'm not a platoon leader anymore."
"Take care of yourself out there too."
"What are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere."
"To think that our once-clueless Platoon Leader has grown up this much…"
"What's with these guys? Are you looking for trouble?"
Now that Robert, who had always been like a friend to the soldiers, was moving on to battalion headquarters as a quartermaster, the 1st Platoon members congratulated him, but they were clearly going to miss him a lot.
Robert had truly been the best platoon leader.
From the higher-ups' perspective, someone like Ernest—who carried out every task perfectly and was so meticulous that he bordered on nitpicky—might have seemed like the ideal commander.
But for the soldiers, it was Robert, who did his job well yet still managed to act easygoing and put everyone at ease, who was the real deal.
With Robert's promotion, a new platoon leader arrived.
He had graduated early as a third-year at the military academy a few months ago, and, after serving in the now-rear Bertagne Forest, he was assigned to the front.
Ernest reassigned Simon, who had been the 3rd Platoon Leader, to serve as both 1st Platoon Leader and Deputy Company Commander, and placed the new platoon leader in charge of 3rd Platoon.
The 1st Battalion of the 13th Regiment saw people ebb away like the tide, only for new faces to flood in and fill the empty spots.
That was all there was to it.
Without any particular incidents, the unit continued to run smoothly and quietly.
Time passed like that, and as winter reached its peak, the new year dawned.
Since the war was still ongoing, they didn't hold any parties.
Instead, thanks to a solid shipment of supplies from the rear timed for the new year, everyone enjoyed a hearty meal together and even shared a bit of wine.
For once, even the Belliang Army and Konchanya Army—who had kept up small-scale military actions—were quiet, as was the Imperial Army.
Even with enemies they'd fought tooth and nail against just across the lines, it felt as if, however briefly, peace had settled over the land.
From this point on, following guidance from the Imperial Army, officers were allowed to go out for short periods with permission from higher-ups.
Thanks to this, Ernest and Robert were finally able to visit Marie—who was within half an hour's walk—after only ever exchanging letters up until then.
"Ernest! Robert!"
Delighted by the news that the two had come to see her, Marie came running out.
Ddak!
"Ow!"
And with that, Robert gave her a quick flick on the head.
Marie clutched her head and looked up at him in disbelief, but Robert wasn't finished yet.
"You little brat! You think you can ignore us just because you've grown up a bit!"
"Ahhh!"
Robert hoisted Marie onto his shoulder and spun her around and around.
Marie was so small that he couldn't bring himself to hit her any more, so this was his way of punishing her.
"Ugh…"
"I—I think I'm going to be sick…"
"You really outdid yourself this time," Ernest said.
After spinning around like that, they both collapsed.
Lying on the ground, both Robert and Marie groaned about their dizziness, and Ernest could only shake his head at the sight.
He crouched down next to Marie's head as she lay there.
"Marie, you broke your promise, didn't you? You fought with Star of Summer."
"Why are you bringing up something that happened ages ago…?"
It was too much—bringing up something that happened three months ago now.
They had already gone over it a few times in their letters, and now, after finally meeting again, all he could do was scold her.
"You slipped out during training, didn't you? Are you planning to fight with Star of Summer again next time?"
"…"
Ernest looked at Marie's sweat-soaked forehead as he spoke.
Marie avoided his eyes and kept silent.
It seemed like she was getting more stubborn by the day.
"I'm only doing this because I worry about you, Marie."
With a sigh, Ernest gently took Marie by the shoulder and helped her up.
He couldn't help but notice that she looked even thinner than the last time he saw her.
Robert left him to it.
He figured she could get up on her own, or just stay lying there if she wanted—it didn't matter to him.
"Please, don't do anything dangerous."
"..."
At Ernest's anxious words, Marie pressed her lips tightly together, looking like she was about to cry.
"Next time, I won't just let it slide. Understand, Marie?"
"That's right, Ernest! Give Marie homework! A hundred pages!"
"That's not punishment, that's just normal upbringing."
"..."
When Ernest sincerely scolded Marie, Robert staggered to his feet and yelled.
But Ernest couldn't understand at all why Robert thought a hundred pages of homework was a punishment, while the mention of it sent chills down Marie's spine as it reminded her of the past.
"…Alright. I promise."
Marie reluctantly made the promise once more, and only then was Ernest able to smile, if only a little.
"But Marie, are you eating properly?"
Robert, who had gotten up without any help, wobbled as he glanced down at Marie.
"I'm eating well."
"Really?"
When Marie answered, Robert placed his hand on top of her head, then measured the height against himself.
"Oh my gosh! You've gotten smaller! Marie's shrinking!"
"Let me see… You're right, you do look smaller. Why is that?"
As Robert teased Marie about her height, Ernest joined in.
Of course, there's no way that Marie, who had just turned seventeen at the start of the new year, could actually have gotten shorter.
It was simply that Ernest and Robert, who were both still growing, had gotten taller.
Marie scrunched up her face and tapped Ernest and Robert with her fists.
She was surprised by how completely painless it felt—almost ticklish.
"Hmm... It's like there's an armrest in just the right spot," Robert said.
"Not for me. It's way too low," Ernest replied.
"Ugh…!" Marie grumbled.
Robert, who was the average height for a noble officer, found that resting his arm on top of Marie's head put it at the perfect height.
But for Ernest, who was much taller, doing the same felt awkward.
With his arm draped over Marie's head—her height just about level with his chest—Robert continued to tease her.
Marie, getting flustered, tapped Robert's stomach with her fists, then suddenly lifted her foot to kick him.
"Whoa! Not there!"
Robert barely dodged a blow that almost landed in his groin, yelping as he dashed away and grumbling in protest.
When Marie lunged at him again, aiming for his groin, Robert used his relatively long legs to playfully hop away.
"Impressive work for someone with such short legs," Ernest laughed softly from a distance, smiling warmly at the scene.
Even now, Ernest was already quite tall, but he had just turned eighteen this year—still growing, still in his adolescence.
'Jonas, you'll stay small and young forever, won't you.'
Ernest pictured his friend Jonas Adler and silently murmured to himself.
Just as he was in the spring of his seventeenth year, when he left forever in the Bertagne Forest, Jonas would remain forever young inside Ernest—never growing up, always a boy in his memories.
And it would be the same for the other friends lost in this war.
Even when Ernest grew old, their memories would stay just as they were.
As he listened to Robert's mocking laughter and Marie's warning to surrender before she resorted to using her Balt, a faint smile crossed Ernest's face.
He wished that, from now on, no one else would die in this foolish war.