Chapter 86 - The Moon Walking in the Wake of the Sun (12)

Chapter 86 - The Moon Walking in the Wake of the Sun (12)

When the cadets returned to the Cavalry Regiment's garrison, their condition was truly a sight to behold.

They looked no better than beasts, so the first order of business was for everyone to wash up and change clothes.

Even then, some cadets kept dozing off on their feet, and there was almost an accident because of it.

"Eat, then sleep," said Thomas.

Thomas made sure the cadets ate before resting.

While they were washing, he had asked the garrison dining hall for something simple—some stew and bread.

The cadets ate half-asleep, and then, still more than half asleep, headed toward the barracks.

The moment their heads hit the pillows, they were out cold.

They slept deeply, so much so that they didn't wake until well past noon the next day, when the instructors finally roused them.

And so, the fifteen-year-old boys who had missed breakfast attacked their next meal with the ferocity of starving wolves.

Thankfully, with their spirits somewhat recovered, they managed to maintain at least a semblance of dignity.

Otherwise, they would have torn into their food with their hands, just as desperately as they had the day before when they'd roasted fish over the fire.

Thomas didn't ask the cadets for a detailed account. He already knew the circumstances from the Rangers.

For a Ranger to be taken prisoner by fledgling cadets was a grave disgrace, but since the Imperial Military Academy's training was sanctioned by the authority of His Majesty the Emperor, the Rangers had no choice but to answer any questions Thomas asked.

Thomas decided to keep what had happened quiet—to protect the Rangers' reputation, and to allow the cadets, who had kept their promise, to preserve their own honor as well.

In his report, he would gloss it over, writing something along the lines of: "Although the cadets were beaten and plundered by the Rangers, they held out resolutely. However, due to the extreme severity of the exercise and declining health, the training was halted a day early."

After all, Wilfried, Duke Ravid's son, really had collapsed by the brook and ended up in a dangerous situation, so it wasn't a lie.

"Had things gone as scheduled, we would have returned today and rested until tomorrow."

Thomas spoke in a calm voice to the cadets, who were eating, sleeping, eating again, and now about to close their eyes for another nap.

"But since we returned a day early, I'll move the schedule up. For today, get plenty of rest. As long as you stay within the barracks and don't get into any trouble with the soldiers or officers, you're free to do as you like."

"Yes, sir!"

"…Yes, sir!"

Even the sleepy cadets, nodding off, snapped to attention and responded belatedly.

Thomas figured there was no point in saying any more, so he wrapped up his speech quickly.

"Starting tomorrow, with the help of the 5th Division Cavalry Regiment, you'll get to see firsthand what actual officers do and learn from them directly. Stay alert so you don't make mistakes. Do whatever you want now—rest or play, it's up to you. Dismissed."

"Dismissed!"

"Let's go already."

"…Ugh! Wh-what is it?"

"He said we can go inside and sleep."

The cadets staggered to their feet and headed for the barracks.

Most collapsed onto their beds to catch some sleep, but a few, eyes filled with curiosity, wandered around the barracks to have a look around.

"They seem pretty busy…"

"Yeah."

Only the cadets with exceptional stamina could wander around without sleeping, so naturally, Ernest and Ferdinand, along with a few others who had grown stronger physically, found themselves exploring together.

The soldiers, who moved about with a sense of urgency, would hesitate when they saw the officer cadets, then pretend not to notice and hurry past.

"Commoner soldiers are walking right by us without even saluting."

One of the cadets sneered at the scene.

At that moment, Ferdinand, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped and turned around.

Towering over even the tallest, sturdiest cavalry soldiers, Ferdinand looked down with piercing eyes, and the cadet who had spoken shrank back in surprise, instinctively stepping away.

Despite his imposing presence, Ferdinand was known for his upright and fair character.

That was why so few had seen him knit his brows in anger—most people didn't even realize he could be truly intimidating.

"We're just soldiers, or at best, officer cadets. We haven't even been given ranks yet."

Ferdinand spoke in a firm, low voice.

"If we're talking about regulations, it's actually us who should be saluting the soldiers. We only treat each other with mutual respect out of customary courtesy, nothing more."

"…But we're nobles."

Despite Ferdinand's intimidating tone, the disgruntled cadet kept grumbling.

"We are soldiers."

Ferdinand growled, like a tiger ready to pounce.

Ferdinand jabbed the cadet in the chest with his thick finger as the cadet continued to pout until the end.

"A soldier salutes the rank, not the person. Are you planning to ignore your superior just because you don't like him? Unless you become a Marshal of the Imperial Army, you're always going to have someone above you, and even a Marshal ultimately takes orders from His Majesty the Emperor."

"..."

"Just because we're nobles, it doesn't mean we can disregard the chain of command. Don't forget that."

"All right, I get it..."

It seemed that Ferdinand, who had sworn to serve in the field even as the Corps Chief of Staff's eldest grandson, found it hard to tolerate such immature thoughts and attitudes from his peers.

"Well said, Hartmann."

As Ferdinand was being praised, a man approached them.

"Second Lieutenant Neumann."

"You can just call me 'senior' if you want..."

Sebastian gave a small smile at Ernest and Ferdinand calling him 'Second Lieutenant Neumann.'

"You must have so many questions you can't even sleep, huh? I'll show you around, so try not to look so grim in the hallway. It makes everyone uncomfortable."

"…Sorry."

Sebastian spoke cheerfully as he led the cadets down the hall.

"You look busy—are you sure this is all right?" Ernest asked, walking alongside him.

"I just happened to have a little free time, so I figured I'd check on my juniors."

"Most of them are probably asleep right now."

"But you're awake, aren't you?"

"Well, that's true."

It seemed Sebastian had come specifically to see Ernest.

"To be honest, we're all busy because of you guys. If anything happens to a cadet, it's on us, so everyone's out patrolling like crazy. Times like this are when cavalry really shines, after all."

"Well…"

"No need for you to apologize. This mess was all Instructor Kohler's doing, anyway."

Sebastian chuckled quietly.

Even though he'd already graduated and become a second lieutenant, he was still just a young man of eighteen.

"It would've been nice if you'd at least given us a hint last time…"

Suddenly recalling what happened a few days earlier, Ernest, unusually, let out a bit of a complaint.

He was talking about how they'd been camped right next to the Cavalry Regiment's garrison and got ambushed at dawn.

"Hahaha! Then it wouldn't be proper training!"

Sebastian burst out laughing, clearly enjoying himself.

"Still, you all caught on pretty quickly. We were actually a bit surprised. We were brainstorming the most exciting way to wake you up. The most popular idea was to pull up the tent pegs and collapse your tents."

"...."

"So, how did you figure it out?"

Sebastian slung his arm over Ernest's shoulder as he asked.

Since becoming an officer, Sebastian's demeanor had changed a lot. Unlike the Military Academy, which was full of young noblemen, here he spent every day shoulder-to-shoulder with soldiers.

"I heard footsteps. They were the proud, dignified footsteps of the Cavalry Regiment, always famous for throwing the enemy into chaos and crushing them."

"You're just too sensitive, aren't you? None of the others woke up—they all slept right through it."

Sebastian said this with a laugh to the other cadets as well.

"Yeah, we didn't hear anything."

Ferdinand answered on behalf of everyone.

Until Ernest called out the surrender, all of them had been sound asleep, oblivious to everything.

"So, how was it in the forest? It seemed like you all had a pretty good time."

Sebastian had promised to show them around the barracks but ended up getting completely absorbed in listening to the cadets' stories about what happened in the forest. The cadets, still shocked by the memories, chatted away, losing track of time. Of course, they didn't mention capturing the Ranger as a prisoner. That was for the sake of everyone's honor.

"We never got to do training like that during our time, you know. Sounds like you all went through a lot. But I'm sure it'll help you in the long run."

"How was it after you were commissioned as an officer?" Ferdinand asked, clearly curious about Sebastian's experiences.

"Oh, it was complete chaos. Back at the Military Academy we were the senior class, but after commissioning, we were right at the bottom as junior officers. Just trying to adjust to that was overwhelming. Do you know what's the hardest part? I have to memorize the face, name, and rank of every officer in the regiment. There are well over a hundred! And on top of that, I have to remember all my own platoon members too!"

Sebastian groaned in exasperation

"There are a lot of people who'll come up to you after you change into your uniform and start asking your name or rank. It's a kind of initiation ritual. The Regimental Commander is especially enthusiastic about that prank—he'll even swap uniforms with his Staff Officers and show up at meetings like that."

"…So what are you supposed to do?"

"What else can you do? You just have to take it."

"..."

"Don't get too nervous. It's all just in good fun. Honestly, it's better to play along and act a little clueless—it's all part of the joke."

The cadets tensed up at the thought of undergoing such a time-honored initiation, especially since even the Regimental Commander himself participated, but Sebastian kept chatting away in a cheerful tone, as if it were nothing.

Sebastian could brush it off so lightly only because he was that bright and well-liked.

If someone truly clueless tried it, the officers would probably be fuming inside.

"So, where do you all want to go after graduation? Why don't you join our 5th Division Cavalry Regiment like Krieger?"

"I'm not assigned to the Cavalry Regiment, and I never said I wanted to join…"

"No, you are a proud member of the 5th Division Cavalry Regiment. Even if I have to get down on my knees in front of the Regimental Commander, I'll make sure you end up here, so just keep that in mind."

"..."

It seemed Sebastian had already made up his mind to bring Ernest into the Cavalry Regiment.

Ernest felt a bit flustered, but he didn't think it would necessarily be a bad thing.

He loved horses and had confidence in his equestrian skills.

Plus, with Sebastian—a close senior—there, he had no real reason to avoid the Cavalry Regiment.

That is, if he couldn't become a Beowatcher.

"There are probably a lot of people and units who want Ernest," Ferdinand said, his tone serious.

"Maybe even the Rangers have their eyes on you."

"Hmmm… I don't know. The Rangers have incredibly strict selection criteria. It's not just about skill—they look at your entire background. As far as I know, Krieger is the sole heir of his House, right?"

Sebastian stroked the chin he'd recently started growing a beard on.

When Ernest nodded, Sebastian gave him a broad grin.

"The Ranger Unit is extremely dangerous. They don't accept nobles who are heirs—to say nothing of sole heirs."

Being a Ranger meant your life could end at any time.

If a noble House's only heir got assigned to the Ranger Unit, the entire Noble Society would rise up and condemn the Military Authorities.

"In other words, Krieger will be joining the Cavalry Regiment."

"He could be assigned to a different unit, couldn't he?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn't happen, so don't worry."

"It's impossible to have a conversation with you."

"Oh, we're communicating just fine. Anyway, what about the rest of you?"

Sebastian looked around at the other cadets as he spoke.

But his gaze didn't linger on Ferdinand at all.

After all, who would be foolish enough to ask where the Corps Chief of Staff's beloved eldest grandson would be assigned?

"I don't care where—I'm going to the field."

"…Hartmann?"

So, when Ferdinand calmly declared this, everyone except Ernest was completely taken aback.

"That's…"

Sebastian was about to respond seriously but, after seeing Ferdinand's resolute eyes, he stopped himself.

After a moment, he grinned.

"…That's not such a good idea! It's better to make up your mind clearly about what branch or unit you want. Before graduation, the Academy will interview each of you to check your preferences. What if you say 'anywhere is fine' and end up being sent to some bizarre place you've never even imagined?"

"That's true. I'll give it some thought."

"So, what about the rest of you?"

Sebastian gently eased the tension that had frozen everyone after Ferdinand's shocking confession and took the lead in the conversation once again. Most of the other cadets hoped to join the Capital Defense Force or be assigned to a unit near their hometowns. It was nothing unusual—just the typical choice.

Sebastian steered the conversation so skillfully that they barely managed to see any of the barracks as they'd intended—they just wandered around chatting.

After even a brief conversation with this young man, it was clear to anyone how he'd so quickly become a favorite of the higher-ups right after his commission.

As quite a bit of time had passed, Sebastian soon slipped away like the wind to take care of his own business, and the cadets headed back for dinner.

"Hartmann, are you really going out to the field?"

"Yes. I've already told Grandfather, too."

"..."

Now the cadets realized why Ferdinand's lips were split and his cheeks so swollen.

They were a bit confused about it themselves, struggling to understand why Ferdinand had made such a choice.

In fact, if any of them had been in Heinz's position, they honestly would have beaten their grandchild black and blue and locked him up at home if that's what it took to stop him from doing something so crazy.

Turning down a safe corps staff officer post—which basically guarantees easy promotions and is already filled with family in all the important spots—to go into the field? It was completely insane.

"If possible, I'd like to be assigned to the same unit as Hartmann."

"Why?"

"Well, he's the Chief of Staff's eldest grandson—he's bound to be some help."

"I already told Grandfather I don't need any special favors."

"Still, I'm sure he'll do something for you."

"Well, that's probably true."

Ferdinand gave a wry smile.

"And besides, I just trust Hartmann way more than anyone else. If I ended up in the same unit as someone like Krieger, I don't think I'd survive military life—I'd be too nervous."

"What's wrong with me?"

"Just think back to all the things you've done. You're basically a walking disaster."

Ernest Krieger—the very embodiment of a career-breaker, the embodiment of dismissal, the disaster of officers—mumbled his response, a bit hesitant.

"That's not my fault. I didn't do anything wrong—I just pointed out mistakes that needed pointing out."

"And that's exactly the issue, Ernest. It's a problem when these things are triggered not by someone high up in the army, but by a mere cadet."

Ferdinand calmly explained why what Ernest had done was problematic.

"You set things in motion when you couldn't be held responsible for any of it, didn't you? The only reason nothing terrible happened is because someone else took responsibility in your place."

It was so true that Ernest couldn't say anything in response.

"In that sense, someone like you might be perfectly suited to being a Corps Staff Officer."

Ferdinand spoke with a faint smile.

"It would be a waste, considering your abilities in field command, though."

"…I'm going to become a Beowatcher, so there's no need to consider that."

"You can't become a Beowatcher just because you want to."

"If I'm the top student for all four years, shouldn't that be enough?"

"There's no way I'm going to spend four years stuck in second place behind you."

"You can't become top student just because you want to, either."

"…"

Returned with his own words, Ferdinand fell silent and turned away from Ernest.

After dinner, the cadets relaxed and, as night fell, drifted off to sleep. Even though all they'd done was eat and sleep all day, as soon as they lay down, the drowsiness overwhelmed them once again.

Ernest lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, lost in various thoughts.

He wanted to become a great soldier like his father.

And in the Empire, being the best meant joining the Emperor's own Royal Guard—the Beowatchers.

That's why he enrolled in the Military Academy.

He thought that becoming a Beowatcher was the greatest achievement a soldier could accomplish.

But maybe that wasn't necessarily true.

Ernest was still young, full of talent, and there were plenty of people who wanted him.

Just as Sebastian said, joining the 5th Division Cavalry Regiment wouldn't be a bad path for him.

Ferdinand also said he wanted to go to the field, but in the end, he'd still be heading to the 2nd Corps.

Most of the other cadets would probably end up in the 2nd Corps as well.

If he could stay with his friends, wouldn't it be perfectly fine even if he didn't become a Beowatcher?

The next morning, the cadets woke up early and, just as Thomas had mentioned, they were able to see firsthand what officers actually did in the field.

And after that, the cadets ended up feeling a bit disappointed with their new reality as soldiers—it was nothing like what they had imagined.

"All we're doing is administrative paperwork all day."

It wasn't as if a war had broken out, so how much work could there really be for officers?

All day long, they were buried in paperwork, overwhelmed by administrative duties.

Junior officers, like platoon leaders, at least had to directly manage their subordinates, but even that only involved checking up on the soldiers and managing supplies.

Still, it wasn't just desk work all the time.

Because the Regimental Commander insisted, with great enthusiasm, that they should at least put on a proper show for the visiting cadets, every member of the Cavalry Regiment—except for those out on border patrol—was mobilized for a massive training exercise.

"Damn it, I'm gonna die out here!"

"Quiet! Shut your mouth and move!"

The soldiers hurled curses at the sudden, unscheduled tactical maneuver exercise.

Even a simple charge required them to maintain speed and a tight formation, something only well-trained cavalry could execute perfectly.

And yet, executing the tactical maneuvers of cavalry—something often called the art of the battlefield—was anything but easy.

The Cavalry Regiment raced across the plains in formation as clouds of dust billowed up, performing complex tactical maneuvers.

Visibility was so poor that they had to rely solely on trumpet signals and flags to keep their formation and pace.

In response to enemy cavalry closing in from the rear, they pulled off a spectacular turning maneuver to strike at the enemy's rear in return.

Sometimes, the unit scattered in all directions to shake off pursuers, only to regroup at a designated spot.

They demonstrated the caracole technique using Balt Pistols, drew their cavalry swords for charges after firing, and though there were only a few, the heavily armored heavy cavalry even performed a lance charge.

"Wow! Look at that!"

"That's amazing! Absolutely perfect!"

The soldiers swore constantly as they endured this grueling exercise, but from a distance, the cadets watching were completely captivated and couldn't stop exclaiming in admiration at the impressive cavalry maneuvers.

In the Imperial Central Army, where Balt Automobiles were well supplied, there was a tendency to look down on cavalry—and, in fact, Balt Automobiles were vastly superior—but anyone seeing this would have to acknowledge the sheer power of cavalry.

Even the instructors, who usually dismissed cavalry as obsolete, found themselves nodding in admiration.

After all, hearing about something and seeing it in person were entirely different.

Cavalry remained a formidable combat arm.

Above all, their mobility was exceptional.

Of course, it was still much safer and more cost-effective for infantry armed with Balt Guns to advance methodically, firing a rain of bullets.

Never forget: cavalry are money-eating beasts, and it's extremely difficult to train them.

The 5th Division Cavalry Regiment Commander stood with his hands behind his back, beaming with satisfaction as he watched the Grimman bumpkins marvel at the spectacle.

At least the soldiers' hardships hadn't been in vain.

The Regimental Commander, thoroughly pleased, generously treated the exhausted soldiers to liquor and meat, and even promised them a day of rest.

The Military Academy spent one more day doing field training with the Cavalry Regiment, and the next morning, they boarded transport vehicles and departed from the 5th Division Cavalry Regiment.

On the way, Ferdinand was called aside to have a conversation with the Regimental Commander, but since it wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary, no one paid much attention.

After all, as the Chief of Staff's eldest grandson, the Regimental Commander likely felt obligated to at least greet him before sending him off.

The return trip was much more pleasant than their journey there.

The absence of rain felt especially wonderful, considering they still had to camp outdoors at night.

"Since we burned the tents during training, not everyone can make a proper tent."

"If we just lie down, everyone will fit inside."

"..."

They'd been suffering from a shortage of supplies because they'd used the oil-soaked tent canvas for firewood during the forest training exercise. But as Thomas pointed out, since many of the cadets were small in stature, everyone could still sleep cozily inside the tent.

"Hartmann, could you move over a bit?"

"..."

Ferdinand, who was bigger than most men in their twenties, was gently shunned by everyone.

No one really wanted to share a tent with him—understandable, since he alone took up as much space as two Wilfrieds.

The group from the Imperial Military Academy stopped by Ruybern, where the 2nd Corps Headquarters was located.

They rested there for a day before setting off again for Grimman.

This time, though, Heinz didn't come to see Ferdinand, making everyone feel a bit nervous for the opposite reason.

"Ferdie."

"Father."

Instead, Mark came alone, took Ferdinand aside, and spoke with him.

No one knew what they talked about, but judging from the bitter expression in Mark's eyes and face, he had clearly failed to persuade his son.

After leaving Ruybern, the group from the Imperial Military Academy marched straight on toward Grimman.

As the sky began to cloud over, they could feel they were approaching the Central Region.

Finally, the end of this damned training is in sight.

If only they could return to the Academy without anything else happening, the cadets felt as though they could do just about anything.