Chapter 9 : Chapter 9
༺ 𓆩 Chapter 9 𓆪 ༻
「Translator — Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
Shhhhhhhwaaaaaa…!!!
It had been about ten minutes since he descended the rain-soaked forest trail.
And soon enough, he found familiar faces waiting.
“...Cough.”
“Are you all right, Major?”
The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the wind had picked up.
They had plunged into the freezing northern river…
…and now, with rain pouring from the sky, it was no small miracle they had come looking for him at all.
Even if they had chosen to return to the fortress first, no one could have blamed them.
‘No, it’s they who were the outlier. Not the ones who ran.’
Two hundred years ago, and even now, humanity hadn't changed.
People were, by nature, selfish beings.
Survival always came first. Always.
But regardless of his internal judgment, Rier Yung and Arditi Günther were now stomping giant bugs into the dirt, drenched to the bone like soaked rats.
He recognized the creatures instantly.
‘Triple Number. Number 912. Graysoil Worms.’
They lived beneath the ash-covered earth, typically feeding on corpses or hosts too weak to resist, gnawing, burrowing, and laying eggs inside their prey.
You didn’t need a gun to kill them.
Even a regular soldier could crush them underfoot.
And yet, they’d been formally catalogued with a number for a reason.
‘Because once they swarm, they come in hundreds.’
Human stamina wasn’t infinite.
Even a specialist officer had their limits.
And for ordinary soldiers, those who couldn’t use mana, these things were deadly.
And if they managed to lay eggs?
Unless the affected area was cut away, or amputated entirely, the host would become nothing more than a living lunchbox for larvae.
‘Still, they rarely charge in so openly. Must’ve been starving.’
It made sense.
Even if the Cerberus Brigade was treated like a pseudo-penal unit, its soldiers weren’t incompetent enough to fall prey to Graysoil Worms.
CRUNCH—!!!
Especially not specialist officers like Rier Yung and Arditi Günther.
Proof of that came in the form of the hundreds of crushed worms lying dead beneath their boots; they exhaled plumes of steam in the cold rain, catching their breath after the carnage.
Sure, it would’ve ended quicker if he had helped. But—
‘Too tired.’
He wasn’t in any condition to assist anyone.
The exhaustion that came from pushing one’s mana reserves to the limit was on a completely different level from normal fatigue.
And so, as the fight came to a close, he casually strolled toward them and gave a lazy wave.
“It’s been a while, Sergeant. Major.”
His face, as always, wore that carefully constructed mask of indifference, drowsy, nonchalant, with that signature smirk.
But perhaps due to the rain weighing down his black hair, or the visible strain of his condition, there was a flicker of fatigue beneath the smile as he spoke, softly, almost to himself.
“Of course, you must’ve been worried. But rest easy, I'm alive.”
“Haha… I mean, I’m glad, but… I don’t know. It’s a weird feeling.”
“...............”
It was no surprise that their expressions turned odd.
After all, they had thrown themselves off a cliff, tricked by a half-truth.
Thanks to that, they’d swum through freezing northern waters, only to be caught in the rain and left looking like drenched rats.
'But thanks to that, we survived.'
A fact even they couldn’t deny.
Even if they had had the stamina to keep running, making it all the way back to the fortress would’ve meant serious casualties.
More likely, they’d have been caught before they even got that far.
“Still… thanks to you, we survived, Brigade Commander.”
Sergeant Rier Yung gave him a crisp salute.
However, immediately after confirming the fatigue-worn face and the tags sticking out of his chest pocket, he slightly opened his characteristic narrowed eyes and questioned.
“You didn’t… actually kill it, did you?”
There was disbelief in his voice.
And understandably so, Sergeant Doggins had been toyed with by a Dual Number-class Reaper of Ash.
But Arditi Günther furrowed her brow, murmuring:
“…No way.”
She’d seen it too.
Crushed, soaked in blood and ashwater… but faintly visible, that tag unmistakably belonged to the late Sergeant Doggins.
But how?
The question circled endlessly.
Then, like a long-overdue realization, the strange dissonance they’d felt earlier struck both of them at once.
‘Why didn’t the Reaper of Ash jump into the river after us?’
Those monsters held nothing but pure, indiscriminate hatred for mankind.
They would dive off cliffs, wade through fire, do anything to kill.
So why hadn’t it followed?
And now Ain Krieg stood before them… holding Doggins’s tags.
What could that possibly mean?
Just as confusion and suspicion twisted through their thoughts—
“Oh, this?”
Ain Krieg, weariness written across his face, pressed a hand to his rain-soaked eyes and muttered:
“Found it on the way back. Lucky, huh?”
With exaggerated nonchalance, he tossed the tags to Rier Yung.
“Eh?”
Yung snatched them out of the air with hands the size of pot lids, blinking dumbly as he stared.
Krieg only gave a sly chuckle in return.
“What are you two imagining? That I took it down? Come on. Even a Grade 3 Specialist Officer like me wouldn’t be able to solo a Dual Number.”
And of course, he didn’t forget to add, with that irritating drawl —
“That kind of feat takes a Grade 1 Specialist Officer.”
He grinned wider.
“Sure, I ran for my life. Away from the fortress, of course. Picked this up on the way back, it was half-buried in the mud.”
“…I see.”
Arditi Günther gave a slow nod at his words, and Rier Yung tucked the tags away with a calm smile.
‘…There’s still something off.’
But both of them were, above all else, rational individuals.
The idea that a Grade 3 Specialist Officer had hunted down a Dual Number single-handedly was… unrealistic. It made far more sense, as Krieg claimed, that he had managed to escape and simply found the tags by coincidence.
‘Yes. It is just a coincidence.’
Both Günther and Yung rolled the word around in their minds.
“It’s cold. The fortress is that way, right?”
They followed behind Ain Krieg, their gazes quietly wary, but their steps were steady.
How long had they walked?
By the time dusk settled across the ridges, they found themselves face-to-face with a unit.
The unit had clearly seen several engagements already.
Despite the rain, the barrels of their rifles and the blades of their combat knives were stained with ashwater, and their breathing came ragged through clenched jaws.
“Major! Are you all right!?”
It was the 1st Company, led by Captain Menharn.
Even in the downpour, they rode hard beneath pulled hoods and dismounted the moment they spotted the soaked Arditi Günther.
“We received word that you encountered a Dual Number! Are you hurt in any way?”
“I’m fine, Captain.”
She turned toward the rear of the company, where two familiar faces remained mounted on horseback.
“It was the lieutenant and ensign who delivered the report?”
“Yes, ma’am. We rushed over as soon as we heard. We’re truly glad you’re safe.”
Meanwhile, Ain Krieg, who stood off to the side like some soggy afterthought, leaned slightly toward Rier Yung.
“It seems the major’s well-loved. Honestly, I’m feeling a little left out.”
“Consider it karma, sir. Consequence of your actions.”
“You really never lose a line, do you?”
Rier Yung merely gave him a toothy grin in reply.
Ain Krieg stepped forward.
Once he stood before Menharn, he gave a short cough and began —
“You did well, Captain.”
“It was a reckless operation.”
The answer came sharp, it was clipped, but brimming with barely suppressed anger. And even with his hood obscuring his eyes, the murderous intent radiating off Menharn was almost tangible.
What more needed to be said?
The tension thickened immediately.
But Menharn didn’t stop there.
“That was insanity, sir. If something had happened to Major, our entire brigade would’ve been finished!”
“Captain!”
Arditi Günther called out, belatedly, but what had been said couldn’t be taken back.
Ain Krieg, however, didn’t so much as flinch.
Or rather, he simply looked unaffected, as if nothing had touched him.
“Quite the discipline in this unit, I see.”
“…Pardon?”
Menharn blinked, confused.
Ah, he doesn’t get it.
Then I suppose it’s time someone explained.
Ain Krieg reached out, patted Menharn’s shoulder, then, with quiet finality, tore the captain’s rank insignia straight off.
Rrrrip—!!!
The frayed, weather-worn shoulder tab fluttered helplessly into the mud below; then, turning his gaze to the now-frozen Menharn and the soldiers behind him, Krieg spoke in a low, drowsy tone, filled with unmistakable irritation.
“I don’t care if you resent me, doubt me, or even hate me. But one thing is non-negotiable.”
The fundamental principle that applied to every soldier in the Military State—
"I will not tolerate insubordination."
Tap—!!!
“I hereby demote Captain Menharn to Lieutenant and place him under three months of pay suspension. Any objections?”
The rain had begun to fade, but the tension thickened instantly.
Some members of the search unit glanced at each other, their eyes dark with unrest, their fingers drifting toward triggers.
But before the standoff could escalate—
Arditi Günther, who had been standing just a few paces behind Ain Krieg, stepped forward, closing the distance until their shoulders aligned.
“Major. If you give the order…”
And then, without hesitation, she turned, and struck Menharn across the face.
SLAP—!!!
The crack echoed in the humid air.
Holding his reddened cheek, Menharn bit his tongue hard enough that blood flowed down his chin without him noticing, and questioned with dazed eyes.
“...Major?”
But Günther wasn’t looking at him.
Her eyes remained fixed on Ain Krieg.
After a moment, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze, then slowly lowered it again.
“I overstepped my bounds. My apologies, Brigade Commander.”
“Major!”
A nearby warrant officer shouted, aghast.
But Günther didn’t lift her head.
Krieg said nothing at first, only looked down at the bowed crown of her head in silence; then he turned his gaze toward Menharn, who now glared at him with murderous fury.
“Go on. Keep talking, Lieutenant.”
The faintest smirk curled under his otherwise emotionless face, it was cold, disdainful.
And at that moment, Menharn froze instinctively.
Those black eyes… there was something in them.
What they contained was anticipation.
‘As if… he’s waiting for us to raise our weapons.’
Yes. That was it.
Those weren’t the eyes of a man being challenged, they were the eyes of a predator.
A hunter, watching prey foolishly inch closer.
A beast, waiting for any excuse to break necks and paint the forest floor red.
“...I-I was out of line.”
“I can't hear you.”
“...I was out of line, Brigade Commander.”
By the time he came to his senses, he was already bowing deeper than even Arditi Günther, words spilling from his mouth before he realized.
And Ain Krieg, looking down at him—
“Alright. Let's work well together, Captain."
“...Pardon?”
With that same lazy, smirking face, as if nothing had happened, Krieg patted his shoulder lightly and added playfully —
“Thinking about it now… demotion and a three-month pay cut over something this minor feels a bit harsh, doesn’t it? Guess I got a little heated. Since you’ve apologized so sincerely, let’s just call it even at the pay suspension.”
Then, without waiting for a reply, he strolled past Menharn’s dazed expression and climbed onto a spare horse brought by the others.
He looked over at Lieutenant Langier, who stood nearby, mid-yawn.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any candy left, Lieutenant? I can't smoke right now, and I need something to chew on.”
“Huaaaahm…”
Langier shook her head, bleary-eyed.
“What’s that in your hand, then?”
“…Tch.”
Krieg snatched the candy from her anyway, popped it into his mouth, and tugged on the reins, heading in the direction of the fortress.
Watching his retreating figure, Menharn couldn’t stop himself from muttering under his breath.
“...What is that man?”
What kind of lunatic is he…?
That thought, most likely, had crossed the mind of everyone present.
END σϝ CHAPTER