Chapter 19
Arthur and Debert were waiting for an unwelcome guest.
“Colonel Bottam is running late.”
Arthur made the comment, but Debert didn’t say anything and just poured his whiskey. There was no sign of irritation on his face for the Colonel’s tardiness, nor any visible displeasure towards the Emperor, who had immediately sent his closest confidant, as if anticipating the operation’s failure.
With a face eerily calm, Debert slowly swirled his glass. He tilted the glass in a silent offer to share, but Arthur shook his head.
“This has become quite a nuisance.”
Arthur murmured quietly, his trembling leg betraying his discomfort.
Colonel Bottam appeared just as Debert was about to finish his second glass. The Colonel entered boisterously, a shameless grin on his face.
“Ah, please forgive my tardiness.”
Arthur muttered a low curse at his brazen greeting.
“Sit.”
At Arthur’s curt command, Bottam’s beady eyes flickered over the two men before him. Debert remained focused on pouring another drink, as if oblivious to the new arrival.
Even when Bottam let out a forced cough, Debert didn’t look up. Bottam’s sagging cheeks twitched with greed.
Arthur observed the unsightly display with a cold gaze.
Though they called themselves an allied force, Britain was little more than a vassal state of Nexus. In terms of industry, economy, or culture, Britain could not compare to Nexus. However, it remained an allied force rather than a subordinate army for one reason only: Britain was the homeland of Bestia, the late Empress and the current Emperor’s mother.
While the late Empress had married the former Emperor under the pretext of fostering international relations, everyone knew it was a voluntary surrender to avoid an unwinnable war.
It was only natural that Britain’s loyalty, once directed towards the unloved Empress, would transfer to her only son, Hoyden.
For Hoyden, who had always been anxious about his position, there was no better backing. The fact that the British forces, nearly indistinguishable from the Emperor’s private army, were sent at the first hint of Debert’s operation failing was evidence enough.
“Is the Duke Cliff well?”
Bottam, clinging to his petty pride, addressed Debert by his title.
Arthur, since he is a royal, Bottan didn’t dare to think of attacking him, but Debert. Although he may be smaller than Nexus, he is also a royal and a duke in Britain.
For someone like Hoyden, who trusted no one completely, Britain was no exception. To ensure that Britain could not conspire rebellion under the Emperor’s favour, no rank higher than Colonel was permitted within the Britain army. (T/L: In raws, it literally says ‘Britain.’)
Bottam found it intolerable that Debert outranked him in the military hierarchy. His attempts to provoke Debert were evident in his petty jabs.
“Britain is a good country.”
Whether or not he understood the veiled provocation, Debert’s ambiguous comment puzzled both Bottam and Arthur.
With an impassive expression, Debert downed the last of his drink. The quiet barracks echoed with the sound of whisky sliding down his throat and the clinking of ice in his glass, creating a tense atmosphere.
Though his downcast grey eyes weren’t looking at anyone, it was clear whom his contemptuous gaze was directed towards.
“In Nexus, a tardy Colonel wouldn’t be kept alive.”
Bottam nervously rolled his eyes, worried that the sound of his gulp was too loud. His fat fingers twitched as he tried to hide his tension, a stark contrast to his earlier bravado.
Arthur bit his lip, thinking it odd that Debert had shown restraint. He finally understood—Debert was saying, “If you were in Nexus, you’d be dead by now. Consider yourself lucky that you’re part of the allied forces.”
There was no way Bottam could miss the underlying threat in Debert’s words. Fortunately, he wasn’t foolish enough to not know when to grovel.
“I apologise. I was late due to the need to organise the troops after arriving at the front lines.”
Debert finally looked up at the idiot in front of him, who was making pathetic excuses. As he did, he recalled the Emperor lurking behind this pitiful figure.
Given that the war was nearing its end, dragging along a bothersome dog like this was hardly an issue.
Debert nodded coolly.
“Tell me what you’ve prepared.”
Bottam cautiously raised his head, sensing that the atmosphere had shifted in his favour. He was lucky.
Bottam spread a blueprint of a tank on the side table.
“We’ve developed a new tank in Britain. If the Imperial Army advances from the left side of the border, I’ll lead the British Army and attack the right side. It’ll be a kind of fake battle. They’ll think that the 1st Army led by Commander Debert, is the main force in Nexus. We’ll catch them off guard.”
Arthur let out a hollow laugh.
Isn’t that a bit too blatant? Essentially, the plan was for Nexus, specifically Debert, to take the brunt of the attack, allowing Britain to reap the rewards.
“The Emperor has entrusted this operation to me.”
Who exactly is Hoyden the Emperor of? The plan was to use the Nexus forces as pawns and let Britain claim the glory.
Debert let out a quiet grunt, shaking his head.
He would rather nobody gain the glory of this war than allow Debert to take it.
“Hoyden…”
Arthur swallowed his words, unable to stop himself from uttering the Emperor’s name.
Why must he resort to such underhanded tactics?
“It’s a good move.”
“What?”
Arthur burst out in anger when Debert, who had been quietly listening to the so-called strategy, suddenly commented that it was a “good move.”
Debert’s expression was serious. With such a grave face, his words could only be taken as genuine.
“Arthur, calculate the forces. We’ll make sure the allied forces are perfectly organised while we have time.”
Bottam was even more shocked by Debert’s unexpected praise than Arthur was. People had always said that Debert Cliff was only interested in war, with no concern for glory. It seemed the rumours were true.
The moment Bottam left, grinning from ear to ear, Arthur slammed his fist down on the table.
“Did you not understand?”
“I understood.”
“And yet, you plan to go along with that strategy?”
“Why not?”
Swallowing the curse that was rising in his throat, Arthur clenched his fists tightly.
“Right now, the Emperor is—”
“The Emperor is sending me to my death, you mean?”
Debert completed Arthur’s sentence, his words hitting the mark.
Arthur fell silent, unable to argue. At times like this, a deep loneliness gnawed at him. The Emperor saw him and Debert as being on the same side, while Debert seemed to view the royals as being all in one group.
And yet, Arthur felt as if he truly belonged nowhere.
“Don’t worry.”
Debert’s voice was overly calm as he spoke.
“We’ll return alive.”
Arthur looked at Debert with a heavy gaze, unsure of what the man was thinking as he offered a faint smile.
* * *
“The telephone line?”
“Oh, it’s still being repaired!”
With the sudden appearance of the army commander and the general, the soldier’s shoulders tensed up.
“Damn Kovach bastards.”
Even though it was abusive language directed at the enemy, the one sweating profusely was the poor signalman in front of him.
A while ago, when the ‘Dawn’ operation failed, the rear troops that followed prevented a crushing defeat, but the phone lines of the camp were destroyed. Fortunately, the phone lines of the frontline hospital near the camp survived.
Debert’s steps headed towards the forest path leading to the hospital.
“Who should I call?”
Even as he entered the hospital and made his way to the director’s office with the telephone, Debert remained silent.
“You’re not even answering. Are you calling your lover or something?”
“Maybe.”
When Debert shrugged casually, Arthur looked appalled.
“You really shouldn’t joke. It’s more creepy than telling the truth.”
Arthur seemed to give up and leaned back on the sofa in the director’s office. Faintly, there was the sound of metal scraping from the receiver.
“Colonel Gale, you need to come here.”
“Debert!”
Arthur jumped up at the name Gale and immediately grabbed the receiver.
“What are you thinking?”
“Aren’t we in an operational meeting right now?”
“Exactly! Just a moment ago, you said you liked the Bottam’s plan.”
“Oh, that.”
Debert chuckled.
“That was a joke.”
Arthur let out a long sigh. He wondered what Debert was thinking, but in the end, it was what it was.
“Refusing the emperor’s orders means immediate execution.”
Arthur had long known that Debert did not fear the Emperor, but that didn’t mean he should become an enemy of the Emperor.
That was a way to protect Debert as a friend, and to ease his own guilt for being the emperor’s eyes.
“Whether I die here or there.”
“Is that your answer…?”
Arthur felt deflated by the indifferent reply. Meanwhile, Debert took the receiver back into his hand.
“Gale, I meant what I said. Come here immediately.”
After hanging up, the verbal sparring between the two continued as they went down the stairs. Strictly speaking, it was more Arthur’s one-sided monologue.
Arthur poured out his thoughts about how Debert should not act unilaterally, how it would be better to persuade Bottam, and if that failed, he would contact the emperor himself. Despite this, Debert remained silent.
“Here comes the Duke. The Duke is coming.”
Dixie whispered discreetly next to Beth, who was busy organising the journal.
Dixie, who called herself the ‘Pretty Radar,’ would always alert those around her whenever Arthur or Debert approached, as though setting off an alarm.
It was the same this time.
At the sound of Dixie’s announcement, Beth’s gaze turned towards the man walking crisply down the corridor.
It was not Debert from last night, casually dressed in a shirt and jacket. Instead, it was the man who symbolised the Empire’s terror. His golden buttons, filled to the neck, and his dark-blue uniform showed no signs of vulnerability.
From Arthur’s serious expression, it seemed they were discussing something important.
Was there another battle?
As the man drew nearer, Beth’s bandaged hand itched once again.
‘Doesn’t this make me seem like I’m doing something wrong?’
Remembering her previous worry, Beth quickly buried her nose in the journal she was writing. She was also concerned he might say something strange in front of others.
However, contrary to her fears, Debert passed by Beth without a word.
Beth, lifting her head from the journal, poked a corner of the page with her pen. Of course, there was no opportunity to greet Duke Debert.
He showed up as he pleased and spoke as he liked.
Beth gathered the journal and charts to her chest. A sense of unnecessary embarrassment prompted her to go upstairs, but Ines stopped her urgently.
“Beth, there’s a letter for you.”
A letter?
A bundle of paper fell to the floor in disarray with a soft thud.
“Are you that surprised? I’ve always felt you never received letters since nursing school. It’s a relief.”
Ines, with a bright face, handed the letter to Beth.
“Looks like your parents sent it.”
Beth’s hands, staring blankly at the envelope Ines handed her, began to tremble slightly. The name ‘Beth Janes’ written on the envelope was clear.
It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be.
Unaware of Beth’s turmoil, Ines handed her a letter opener. As Beth awkwardly tore open the envelope, the neatly sealed edge was ruined.
And from inside, a piece of yellowed paper emerged, more like a note than a letter.
Please, please let it not be.
“Beth, it’s your uncle.”
Dire predictions never go wrong.
Beth fainted on the spot.
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TRANSLATOR:
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