I Won’t Let the Execution Battalion Die, ~Even If the Empire Falls, We Want to Survive~ - Chapter 68: In the Prairie Fire ②

While we were conducting espionage in the Empire’s south, a rebellion had broken out in the north. Moreover, it was a rebellion by the lords themselves.

Since they were on the ruling side, it had completely different political implications from ordinary peasant uprisings.

“I apologize. I was late because I was hanging laundry.”

When I reported to the battalion commander’s office, the battalion commander smiled.

“I’m very satisfied as a superior to have made time for your beloved laundry.”

“When it’s busy, there’s no time for laundry.”

Behind the battalion headquarters, laundry ropes were strung in all directions, and my “achievements” fluttered like military flags. Spare shirts and several days’ worth of undergarments. I’d also washed gloves and sheets.

While gazing at it together with me, the battalion commander muttered:

“Strange man—the more you wash, the more the fabric gets damaged.”

“Even so, I can’t not wash them.”

“There is such a thing as frequency… well, never mind. Do as you like.”

Since the battalion commander was also a mother, she showed some understanding of my laundry obsession.

This wouldn’t work with male soldiers. Especially with frontline duty, I wouldn’t have gained understanding. Good thing this was rear service.

The battalion commander returned her gaze and glanced toward the door.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Riesha today—is it the effect of this morning’s execution training?”

“She was too enthusiastic playing the condemned prisoner and became extremely fatigued, so I made her rest on my judgment.”

This was purely modest euphemism, so it differed somewhat from reality. I’d made a troublesome pervert my partner.

I cleared my throat lightly.

“Such training isn’t necessary anymore. Legal procedures for execution and various customs have been drilled in.”

Humans didn’t have hard scales or shells, but positions and status were attached to them. Even if you ignored these and swung down the executioner’s blade, you could only cut the physical human.

The remaining “position” and “status” couldn’t be killed and would eventually become seeds of disaster.

Properly handling such matters was the job of the Ceremonial Battalion, an execution specialist unit, and we were broadly but shallowly versed in everything from jurisprudence to anatomy.

Instead, we weren’t very knowledgeable about bayonet charges or cavalry tactics, but that was proper role allocation.

“With all due respect, is it really okay to be doing such things?”

Then the battalion commander adjusted her glasses and, for a moment, became serious in tone.

“It’s necessary. I’m keeping them at headquarters under training pretext.”

When this person became serious, her voice became chillingly cold and merciless. The gap with her usual manner was severe, but this was Major Filia Gehenbach’s hidden side.

Perhaps seeing my shock, the battalion commander returned to her usual languid tone.

“The bigwigs plan to use every available officer for rebellion suppression, but I won’t let my precious subordinates be ground up in worthless missions. I’ll sabotage with training and patrols.”

“In that case, how about capital patrols—”

“Better not. You two are marked by both ‘prairie fire’ and ‘nightingales.’ Your lives might be targeted.”

‘Prairie fire’ was the general term for rebel forces controlling the northern Kavaraf region. Not an official name, but it had somehow taken hold.

Since I was also concerned about that situation, I decided to ask the well-informed battalion commander.

“How are things with that ‘prairie fire’?”

“The army has imposed information control. Not only the Ceremonial Battalion, but even the Imperial Guards Division isn’t getting information. We’re at a complete loss.”

The battalion commander could do various underhanded things through personal connections, but apparently couldn’t manage anything beyond those connections’ reach.

I looked down at the map on the desk. There were wooden markers color-coded for enemy and ally, but none were placed on the map. Because we didn’t know.

“We don’t know where how many allies are, what they’re fighting. We don’t even know if we’re winning or losing.”

“This is the rear, and we’ve been left out of communication systems. Information from the Imperial Household was our lifeline, but the Imperial Household itself lacks information.”

Originally, real-time information transmission was impossible in this era, but even so, there was absolutely no information.

“Battalion Commander.”

“What?”

“With this complete lack of information, we really shouldn’t move carelessly.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“No, I’m convinced now.”

“I see, then good. Minaka was also saying she wanted to rampage outside, but she wasn’t as understanding as you, which was troublesome.”

Captain Minaka Yugi was our Third Company’s company commander, but her true calling was as an assassin rather than military company commander, which was somewhat problematic at times like this.

And I noticed the battalion commander’s unnatural smile.

“However, I honestly want to have Minaka work as a spy too. So I’m thinking of transferring Minaka to battalion adjutant.”

“Huh?”

I understood why I’d been called… In the Third Company, I was the next highest-ranking officer after Captain Yugi.

Then the next moment, the battalion commander made a pleading expression and begged:

“Please, be the Third Company commander.”

“I’m still just a lieutenant.”

“I know, I know. Here, captain’s insignia.”

The rank insignia that commoner officers finally received in middle age casually appeared.

“Isn’t this strange for seniority? I don’t have official military achievements either. Admiral Telzen’s assassination was top secret.”

“You have the achievement of arresting and executing ‘Yuo Nevilnel’ in Kavaraf region.”

“You could say the north’s current terrible situation is partly because of that.”

Because I’d handled it carelessly, an “immortal Yuo Nevilnel” who didn’t die even when executed was born. Thinking about it, it seemed somewhat my fault.

Too late for regrets, so I’d be more careful next time. Though I doubted there’d be a next time.

The battalion commander seemed indifferent to such matters.

“Having only two captains under me—Minaka and Goffel—is somewhat worrying. You’re the most useful lieutenant, and I’d like to supplement the captains around now.”

Goffel was the Second Company commander. A difficult man with a Kaiser mustache, but he was popular as an exceptionally excellent commander.

But he’d lecture me whenever something happened, so I didn’t want to meet him much.

“We lost two precious officers in that ridiculous ‘duel’ with Lord Grien, so that impact is undeniable.”

“Right. But while we can’t increase numbers, we can increase ranks. I want to make anyone who seems captain-worthy into captains. What do you think?”

Orthodox Empire army captains were permitted to command battalions, so if I became captain, we’d gain one more subordinate who could be entrusted with the battalion in emergencies.

Incidentally, since Captain Yugi wasn’t suited for frontline command, currently only Captain Goffel seemed capable of commanding the battalion.

Understanding the circumstances well, I responded with a salute while smiling wryly:

“Then I humbly accept the appointment.”

“Good.”

Despite the Empire being on the verge of collapse, my rank had increased. Plus I was a company commander.

I didn’t want to be made navigator on such a sinking ship…