Chapter 2

March, Imperial Year 813.

The Heinen⁽¹⁾ Empire. Straddling the center of the continent, its territory was one of the largest and most bountiful on the land, the very model of a country where it was good to live. Resources were abundant, fields were fertile; by every sensible measure, it was a prosperous realm.

Yet, prosperity always draws enemies, and talent invites envy. Even a land as comfortable as this could not escape war.

“Colonel Theo! Unusual activity has been detected in the Rotelli maritime zone, which belongs to Membern.”

Membern was the kingdom that, by virtue of its thriving sea trade, found itself at open war with the Heinen Empire. The two nations were geographically entwined; Heinen’s eastern borders met Membern across a relatively narrow stretch, and that narrow sea, Rotelli, ran between them like a vital artery.

Membern controlled roughly half of Rotelli’s waters. Not vast in size, the Rotelli passage was nonetheless a kind of silk road of the sea: a bastion that opened trade routes across swathes of the continent. Control of those waters meant control of commerce. At present, dominion over Rotelli’s sea lanes was divided between empire and kingdom.

Membern, however, coveted exclusive maritime control and had gone to war for it. Though the two powers had reached a tense truce, signs of renewed conflict had begun to appear.

“Is this from the reconnaissance detachment?”

“Yes, sir.”

In Twelin, the imperial capital, at the headquarters of the Empire’s army: those posted to the palace and charged with guarding the realm were, in effect, Heinen’s living strength. Among them, the arcane-adept soldiers, the so-called Mana Corps, were recognized as the finest of all the existing knightly orders.

The great circular territory surrounding the palace fell under military jurisdiction, a ring built to ensure, at any cost, that the heart of the Empire, the capital and the throne, remained secure.

“How many troops do we have at the eastern garrison?”

“At present, the reconnaissance detachment drawn from the capital headquarters and three additional units are holding the eastern post.”

And the man considered the most competent in the imperial army was, without argument, Theo Redrick. Captain of the First Unit and widely touted as a candidate to become the next Commander-in-Chief, Theo’s name was on many lips for the highest command.

“Let me brief the Commander-in-Chief myself.”

“Understood. How shall we instruct the eastern garrison?”

Theo fell into thought. The subordinate who had brought the report waited respectfully, giving him room to consider without interruption.

There was a common prejudice that soldiers, by the nature of a hand-on profession, weren’t much for thinking. Yet anyone who would be truly effective in war needed both brawn and brains. Theo rubbed his jaw. His face was sharp, his gaze resolute; his broad frame easily exceeded six feet. To an onlooker he would look like a man of action, but the men who served under him knew better.

They knew he was one of the quickest minds among them.

Theo always sought the most rational and efficient course, one that minimized casualties for those who followed him. He thought and rethought every plan with the aim of keeping his men safe. Thanks to that, he consistently led imperial forces to victory; battles under his command set records for the lowest number of casualties.

“Tell the Commander not to move for now. They are more skilled than us at naval warfare. A preemptive strike might be one option, but if we do that first, we risk being the ones to suffer. Wait quietly. We lure them in until they grow impatient and start to come ashore.”

“Understood. I will relay that.”

“And one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Do not, under any circumstances, allow Captain Luke to act rashly. Tell him not to move. No exceptions.”

“…Yes, sir!”

As the officer saluted and moved to leave Theo’s room, another comrade from communications came sprinting in.

“Colonel, sir!”

Theo felt an uneasy premonition at the sight of the man, a flash of déjà vu that made his skin prickle.

“What is it?”

“We received a report from the Third Unit. Captain Luke mobilized his men and led the reconnaissance detachment into the maritime zone where the enemy is suspected of ambushing!”

Theo’s brow tightened at the news. He let out a short, sharp breath; the two soldiers beside him stiffened as if on cue.

“Move to the eastern garrison. I’m sorry, but deliver the message to the Commander on my behalf.”

“Yes!”

Theo left quickly, taking with him a man who could perform warp magic. [Read on RanaTranslations🌸] Theo himself knew the basics of warp, but using a specialist’s skillfulness was far more efficient.

Within the army there existed mana-conservation zones, areas of air dense with mana. For flawless, low-cost teleportation, warps were usually executed from within these zones.

“Make it quick.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The man whispered the incantation. Light pooled and wound around Theo; his form blurred and vanished in an instant.

Heinen — eastern garrison.

When Theo arrived, he was greeted by Major Mile Kaelus, commander of the Third Unit, who seemed to have expected him.

“Theo. So you came after all.”

“Mile, where’s Luke?”

“Exactly as reported. He rushed out on his own again. That damned rat.”

Mile ran a hand through his hair, exhaling in exasperation.

“Mile, there are others present. Watch your words about fellow captains in a place like this.”

“Whatever. Theo, you’re too good-natured for your own good.”

“How long since Luke deployed?”

“Roughly an hour ago, so we estimate. It was discovered late; we can’t pin the exact time.”

An hour ago: the moment when the report of suspicious movements in Membern waters had first reached them, a signal raised by one of the reconnaissance squads.

“You sensed it, didn’t you?”

Mile smirked, perhaps reading Theo’s expression.

“That bastard Luke, no sooner did we report it than he charged in. He must have decided that the instant anyone noticed, he’d strike.”

“…We’re going too.”

“Are you serious? That man ignores all military discipline and acts on his whims. Why should we mop up his mess? Leave him to it. Let him suffer a proper setback; maybe he’ll learn.”

Mile’s voice hardened, and the other soldiers nearby exchanged glances that reflected his sentiment.

“Sorry, my nose is intact for now.”

Theo said dryly.

At that moment, a red shimmer tore the air a short distance away; space folded and opened, and a man and his party stepped out. Silver hair veiled one eye, whipping in the breeze.

Mile’s face soured the instant he recognized him.

“Captain Luke, you—”

Before Mile could finish, someone flashed by and lunged at Luke.

“Theo, wait—!”

Mile reached for Theo to stop him, but it was too late. Flames erupted from Theo’s palm and surged toward a single target: Luke.

Boom.

A thunderous sound. Smoke curled from the spot where they stood. Though the turn of events was sudden, the troops reacted as if trained for it; shields and warding spells flared up, everyone taking defensive positions.

“Quite the vigorous greeting.”

Luke, too, had conjured a defensive spell; a compact, expertly executed barrier in a matter of heartbeats. He stared back at the attacker, glaring with calm intensity.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Theo demanded first.

“Isn’t that the question I should be asking? Your enemy is across that sea, not here.”

“Captain Luke. I am not asking that. Why did you act unilaterally before the orders came from headquarters?”

“Isn’t that exactly what a reconnaissance detachment is for? They were stirring. I judged if I struck before their preparations were complete, we had a chance.”

A coldness slid between Theo and Luke. The surrounding soldiers, who had been on guard, began to stare at Luke in one synchronized, disapproving glare. There was nothing friendly in that look.

“You can’t make that decision on your own. Don’t you realize your actions could spark the war anew?”

“We were under a truce with Membern. War was always possible. Besides, I succeeded in the end; so, isn’t that the point?”

“Even if that’s true, it doesn’t give you license to act alone. You nearly endangered your own men and the forces pulled to the eastern garrison. Do you still not understand the gravity of this?”

Luke snorted as though amused by the fuss. Mile muttered under his breath, “That bastard,” with thin contempt.

“You play the amiable fool all by yourself.”

“Luke…!”

Theo started to shout, but then blood began to drip from Luke’s alabaster brow. Theo flinched, brow creasing.

“All right, all right. I’ll report properly later, just let me have this much.”

Wiping the blood from his forehead, Luke stepped past Theo and walked on. Though a unit commander walked away wounded, not one of the soldiers present offered to support him or voiced concern.

Mile dismissed the men with a shake of his head. Theo turned to the reconnaissance detachment that had gone with Luke.

“Anyone injured?”

“No, sir.”

Impossible. Membern was desperate to win this war; they would have prepared men and arms in earnest to seize full control of Rotelli. Even if the operation had been a raid, the absence of any injuries made no sense.

“Captain Theo. Actually—”

A detachment member stepped forward.

“Speak.”

“We followed Captain Luke, but we didn’t step a single foot into enemy lines.”

“What?”

A disgruntled murmur passed among the men.

“Commander ordered that ‘weaklings like us would only get in the way during a raid’, so he told us to stay behind and maintain the wards.”

The soldiers’ displeasure was plain. [Read on RanaTranslations🌸] Luke’s words had clearly pricked their pride.

“So, you’re saying Captain Luke alone entered the enemy camp and carried out the strike?”

“Yes, sir.”

Theo slowly turned and looked toward the place where Luke had vanished. Drops of blood dotted the soil where he had stood.

******

“The treatment is finished.”

When Luke nodded briefly, the military physician bowed slightly and left the barracks.

Luke sighed and collapsed onto a cot. Every inch of him ached.

“…Damn. I might die before the happy ending even comes around.”

One more talent of a proper villain: if you want to survive, you have to be filthy strong.