Chapter 58 - Ashes
It was a day like any other.
Senior Instructor, Captain Thomas Kohler, as usual, beat the cadets thoroughly in mock combat and took pleasure in watching their frustration, while the Empire's history lecture, as always, was filled with praise for His Majesty the Emperor.
"That's enough for today's lecture."
However, the moment the Empire's history instructor—who usually obsessed over brainwashing the cadets until the end of class—declared the lecture over earlier than usual, everything changed.
The instructor grinned broadly as he looked around at the cadets staring back at him.
"It's time for the grade announcements."
"Aaaah!"
At the almost sneak-attack declaration of the report card release, the first-year cadets cried out in dismay. It was so sudden they hadn't even had time to prepare themselves.
"So, what should I do? Should I call you up one by one? Or just post the grades straight up?"
The normally strict instructor giggled mischievously as he asked.
"Just pretend this never happened, please!"
"It'd be best if you just didn't announce them at all!"
"Oh, really? All right. Then I'll just send a letter to your families instead."
"Aaah!"
The instructor laughed, his shoulders shaking with genuine delight.
You could never get such a lively reaction from the Second Years.
That's why moments like this, teasing the First Years, were rare treasures to be savored.
"Should I call you up from the top? Or start from the bottom?"
"Please just post the report cards!"
As the instructor asked slyly, Robert Jimman quickly replied.
The cunning and crafty instructor was steering the conversation to confirm that he was going to call out the grades.
At the very least, they had to prevent their grades from being publicly exposed to everyone!
"Ah, Jimman. Jimman, let's see…"
"No, please don't!"
"Yes, I will!"
As soon as he heard Robert's plea, the instructor swept his finger down the report cards and began looking for Robert.
Robert howled in despair, but there was no stopping the instructor, who was utterly thrilled at the prospect of teasing the cadets.
"Robert Jimman!"
"..."
When the instructor called his name loud and clear, Robert froze as if his heart had been gripped in a fist.
"30th place."
"Aaaaargh!"
Robert shot to his feet and let out a wild scream.
Out of sixty First Year cadets, ranking 30th meant he had just barely managed to break into the top half.
Robert, the son of a merchant and now a newly made noble, had actually pulled it off.
"Tsk... Seeing how happy you are is kind of irritating."
"..."
When the instructor commented as Robert went wild with excitement, Robert immediately calmed down and sat back in his seat as if nothing had happened.
"Teacher Ernest, please never forget that I respect you with all my heart."
"Shh, be quiet."
"Oh, of course. Of course."
At Ernest's whispered warning, Robert clamped his mouth shut.
This success was truly thanks to Ernest.
If Ernest hadn't helped him, Robert might have just heard "60th place!" instead.
After all, Robert wasn't really cut out for military life.
A lot of the other cadets watching this felt it was a bit unfair.
Robert had simply accepted everything Ernest fed him and managed to barely pass the halfway mark.
Of course, Robert must have studied hard too...
"All right, who else is curious about their grades next?"
As the instructor smiled and looked around, everyone did their best to avoid his gaze. Even Wilfried was no exception.
"Yes."
At that moment, Ferdinand Hartmann raised his hand with confidence.
The instructor clicked his tongue at the sight.
It was more entertaining to call on someone whose grades weren't so great.
"Ferdinand Hartmann, you're Second Place. Truly outstanding. There was nothing to criticize in any respect. Everyone, let's give Hartmann a round of applause!"
"Waaah!"
At the instructor's words, everyone clapped earnestly and cheered.
Ferdinand looked a bit embarrassed but bowed his head to express his gratitude to everyone.
"Hartmann, it's a real shame. You came in second, but honestly, there are hardly any cadets in the history of the Imperial Military Academy who have taken second place with grades like yours. Normally, you'd be an overwhelming top student."
The instructor seemed genuinely regretful.
By now, Ferdinand was already performing well above First Year level—he could even be compared to Third Years.
And yet, Ferdinand was only in second place.
"Ernest Krieger. Top student."
Since Ferdinand was second place, it was no surprise that the top spot went to Ernest.
"You received slightly lower marks in a few areas, but likewise, you achieved outstanding, unmatched results in several others. Congratulations. You've set a new record for First Year Military Science grades, and unless a truly extraordinary cadet enrolls, your distinguished achievement will be remembered throughout the history of the Military Academy. Let's give Krieger a round of applause!"
"Waaah!"
"Thank you."
Even with the instructor's high praise and his classmates' cheers, Ernest simply thanked them calmly, showing little sign of joy.
To become a Beowatcher, he would have to maintain his top position for all four years—and not just barely, but with overwhelming grades.
This was just Ernest's first step.
For that reason, Ernest was more focused on how he became top student rather than the fact that he achieved it.
If he hadn't scored so well in the crucial subject of Military Science, Ferdinand would have taken the top spot.
'I can't afford a single mistake in Military Science.'
Ernest decided to concentrate on maintaining his Military Science grades.
Of course, he would also work to improve other weaker areas, but as long as he kept up his performance in Military Science, he believed he could remain top student until graduation.
Most likely, the points he lost came from the Imperial History lecture or Balt Automobile driving.
But now that he had reduced his dosage of tonic and his concentration had improved, those subjects should go better from now on.
Driving… well, if it doesn't work out, there's nothing I can do.
"Now, is there anyone else who's curious about their grades? Hm?"
"..."
After a round of cheers and applause had swept through the lecture hall, all the cadets fell silent and avoided the instructor's gaze. With a faint smile, the instructor posted the report cards at the front of the lecture hall.
"With this, all training and lectures at the Imperial Military Academy for this year are over. Rest up and wait until the Year-End Party."
"Yes, sir!"
"But don't get too comfortable. Remember, you must at least maintain the minimum level of dignity expected of an officer cadet."
"Yes, sir!"
"Good! Check your grades, then return to the dormitory!"
"Yes, sir!"
Instead of nitpicking each cadet's grades, the instructor ended with those words and left the lecture hall coolly.
After all, a cadet at the bottom of the class isn't suddenly going to shoot to the top just because the instructor nags. And above all, by the time you're at the Imperial Military Academy, you're expected to take care of yourself.
"Whoa "I'm doomed!"
"Oh wow, that's higher than I expected."
The first-year cadets rushed to the front of the lecture hall, each looking for their name on the report card. Those at the bottom despaired, those at the top rejoiced, and those in the middle breathed a sigh of relief and quietly stepped back.
"..."
Wilfried waited until the crowd of cadets thinned out, then leisurely stepped up to look at the report cards. He told himself he'd start from the bottom to avoid being disappointed, but before he knew it, he found himself searching for his name from the top.
At the very top was Ernest's name, with Ferdinand's name just below it. As his eyes moved down the list…
"...Fifth place."
…Wilfried didn't have to go far—he quickly found his name among the top rankings. With a calm voice, he murmured his rank, but his face had flushed red with delight.
His already jewel-like blue eyes sparkled with so much energy, they practically shone.
The Imperial Military Academy evaluates its cadets with complete fairness. Just because Wilfried is the Duke's son doesn't mean he gets any special treatment.
But still—fifth place. Fifth! He'd made it into the top five!
Of course, Wilfried was aware that his status had played a part in achieving this rank. The evaluations at the Military Academy are fair. However, since Wilfried is the Duke's son, the other cadets often yielded opportunities to him, and thanks to that, he managed to achieve such a good result.
But if Wilfried hadn't poured all his free time into studying, no matter how many chances he was given, he never would have attained such high marks.
What particularly influenced Wilfried's grades, of course, was Military Science.
And as much as he hated to admit it, Ernest played a huge part in developing Wilfried's military expertise.
The foundation of all Wilfried's knowledge in Military Science comes from Ernest.
In fact, you could almost say Wilfried is studying under Ernest as his mentor.
That's how knowledgeable Ernest is in Military Science, and even as a first-year, he's capable of devising practical strategies and tactics like an outstanding commander.
This also means that Haires must have trained his son with great intensity.
'I feel like I'm in his debt.'
Wilfried muttered to himself. Receiving information from Ernest was just part of a deal they struck. Everything else was the result of Wilfried's own efforts. Still, it somehow felt like he owed Ernest—something he didn't want to admit, but didn't find unpleasant.
Wilfried felt he could happily enjoy the Year-End Party. Of course, once he returned to Ravid after that, he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself like this.
With only the Year-End Party left, the cadets enjoyed a very relaxed routine As long as they showed up on time for assembly and maintained the dignity expected of an officer cadet, the Disciplinary Officer generally left the cadets alone.
However, the boundaries of this so-called 'dignity required of an officer cadet' felt rather ambiguous.
First-Year Cadets, for example, weren't sure if a snowball fight would be considered undignified behavior.
So, they decided to ask the Disciplinary Officer.
"Conduct yourselves like gentlemen in battle, and seize glorious victory!"
The Disciplinary Officer delivered the order to engage in battle in his most solemn voice.
At first, the first-years split into two teams and, as instructed, fought like gentlemen—but before long, things devolved into a chaotic free-for-all, friend and foe indistinguishable.
Naturally, considering the circumstances, Ernest Krieger—who'd managed to earn everyone's grudge—became the obvious target for everyone.
"There's Krieger!"
"Get him! Go after him!"
"Revenge for the Mock Battle Training!"
"Aaaargh!"
Determined to repay the humiliation they'd experienced during Mock Battle Training, everyone was out for Ernest's blood. Ernest did his best to escape, fighting back to the very end, but in the end, he was caught and dragged, limbs pinned, toward the center of the Courtyard.
"This is humiliating! Not gentlemanly in the least! You realize you're committing a disgraceful act right now!"
Even as he was held fast, Ernest loudly protested the indignity and shame of this injustice.
"A loser's lament. We don't need to hear a loser's complaints."
Ferdinand grinned like a beast baring its fangs.
"Let's settle this fair and square—one on one, a duel!"
Ernest challenged Ferdinand to a duel, but Ferdinand just scoffed.
"Are you planning to duel everyone here? Unfortunately, we don't have time to wait for that. Just accept your fate."
"Robert!"
In desperation, Ernest called out for Robert.
"Huh?"
Robert, who was busily rolling a giant snowball, looked up at Ernest.
"Oh, Ernest! This snowball is for you!"
"Robert, not you too!"
Hearing Robert's cheerful words, Ernest cried out in betrayed agony.
"We don't have time for this. Let's finish him off already."
Even Wilfried had shed all notions of dignity, crouching on the ground as he furiously packed snowballs, urging everyone on.
Soon, a hailstorm of snowballs began to rain down on Ernest.
"..."
"Phew! Let's head inside now."
"Yeah. I'm starting to feel cold now that my sweat's cooling off."
Everyone hurried toward the dormitory, leaving Ernest buried in the snow.
No one wanted to get caught by Ernest at a time like this—it wouldn't end well.
"You brought this on yourself!"
With that, Robert called out to Ernest one last time and dashed away at top speed.
Ernest resolved never to forget this humiliation and silently vowed to repay the debt during the Mock Battle Training in second year.
"They're having fun."
"We were just like that back when we were first years."
Other cadets from different years, who had watched the brutal execution play out in the courtyard, chuckled amongst themselves. Now that they were adults, a childish snowball fight was beneath them—one had to maintain a sense of dignity.
"..."
Yet the truth was, these fifteen- to seventeen-year-olds were keenly restless and itching to race down to the courtyard themselves.
It might have been a cold winter, but honestly, it wasn't so bad.
***
While the regular officer cadets had finished all their coursework for the year and were at leisure, the Baltracher Cadets were an exception.
Unlike the regular officer cadets, whose areas of instruction were clearly defined, the training for the Baltracher Cadets was governed by the vague guideline of "as intensely as possible."
So, after yet another day of mentally exhausting training, Marie—completely worn out—was making her way to the Main Dormitory to meet Ernest. Still, Marie was relatively fortunate; at least her suffering was mostly mental. The other Fiders were being physically tortured under the guise of "mental reinforcement training."
Crunch.
Crunch.
Stepping through the thick layer of snow, Marie arrived outside the First-Year Cadets' Dormitory.
She stared blankly up at the building, which buzzed with the rowdy laughter and shouts of first-year cadets caught up in the festive year-end spirit. Even though they were under the same roof at the military academy, this place felt like a totally different world compared to the Annex Dormitory where the Baltracher Cadets stayed.
Marie looked up, watching the glow from the windows leak out into the night sky, and let out a slow breath.
"Haa…"
She silently pleaded with her white breaths to erase everything. But the sigh held in Marie's small chest could not wipe away the dark night sky, the glowing lights, or the laughter.
"...Sniff."
Marie gave a small sniffle, her nose red from the cold. With her head bowed as always, but far more careful than usual, she slipped inside the First-Year Cadets' Dormitory. Those peals of laughter made her painfully aware—this was not a place she truly belonged.
And yet, Marie had to go in. Otherwise, she wouldn't hear Ernest's encouragement—and without that, she couldn't face tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, striving for better results.
Even though free time was almost over, the dormitory was still buzzing with noise, and plenty of cadets were actively moving about in the hallway.
Marie kept close to the edge of the hallway, eyes lowered, ignoring them as she passed. The cadets ignored her in return. Even those who used to frown in discomfort simply disregarded her now.
That didn't mean they had accepted Marie. It was just that, having become an everyday scene, they chose to ignore her out of habit.
Knock, knock, knock.
Marie knocked on the familiar room's door. Over the past half year, she had made that knock her own, but suddenly, it felt strangely unfamiliar.
After a moment, the door opened. Still looking down, Marie slowly lifted her gaze.
"Hi, Marie."
Just as usual, Ernest greeted her. But unlike every other time, his face was slightly flushed with an excitement she couldn't quite place. Marie realized that Ernest had blended perfectly into this world to which she herself did not belong—he truly was someone entirely different from her.
"Hi, Ernest."
Still, Marie pretended not to notice a thing and greeted him just as she always did. Her face showed no expression, but a trace of disappointment slipped into her voice.
Suddenly, Marie found herself unable to meet Ernest's eyes.
To her, winter was a season filled with nothing but pain and despair. But to Ernest, it seemed to be a season of joy.
Marie hated it.
Even though she knew that this hatred was unreasonable, she couldn't help but feel it.
Marie looked down at the floor again.
"Oh, right. Marie, about what we talked about last time."
At that moment, Ernest spoke as if something had just come to mind. Marie flinched in surprise, her shoulders trembling, and she slowly raised her eyes.
"Robert's father sent it. Robert."
"Yeah. It's over there."
Ernest went into the room and picked up a bag that was set next to Robert's wardrobe.
The bag was made of rough cloth.
It had no decorations—just a plain, low-quality bag made purely for practicality.
"Do you want to look at it here?"
Ernest asked Marie.
Marie slowly tilted her head.
She couldn't figure out what Ernest was talking about.
Ernest also tilted his head, following Marie's gesture.
Then, he spoke.
"Dress."
"Ah!"
Marie gasped in surprise.
Seeing her reaction, Ernest straightened his head, opened the bag, and took out the dress to show her.
A dress... Ernest honestly wasn't sure if you could even call it that.
The stiff, rough fabric was such poor quality it hadn't even been properly dyed, leaving it with a dull yellow hue, and there was hardly any decoration.
It was absolutely not the kind of item anyone would wear to a party for nobles
. This was the sort of outfit a commoner might save up for and buy to wear on a special occasion.
"Hmm..."
Ernest held the dress up to Marie to see how it would fit. Marie froze, her shoulders shrinking back in surprise.
"It's a bit big."
"..."
Robert had written in his letter that Marie was very small, but even his father probably hadn't imagined she was quite this petite.
Maybe, having heard she was an Aeblonian and a Fiders, Robert's father had decided she wasn't worth the trouble and just sent anything he had on hand.
"Will this be okay?"
Ernest asked, still holding the rough dress up to Marie's body.
Marie, with her head bowed, stared blankly at the dress draped over her.
"Marie"
"…Yeah."
When Ernest called Marie's name again, she whispered a quiet reply.
"Yes, it's fine."
With trembling hands, Marie gently held the shabby dress, as if it were made of the world's finest fabric and adorned with the most precious jewels.
"Thank you, Robert."
"…Are you talking to me?"
Marie spoke so quietly that Robert thought he must have misheard. He grabbed his desk and leaned his chair back as far as it would go, peering around Ernest's side to look at Marie.
"Yes."
Marie answered softly once more. Robert gave a little chuckle and made a show of doffing his hat.
"It's nothing—whoa!"
Thud!
Trying to act cool for no reason, Robert lost his balance and fell backward with the chair.
Ignoring the fool, Ernest turned to Marie.
"Will you go to the party?"
When Ernest asked in his low voice, it seemed as if he had slipped out of the bright year-end atmosphere and returned to his usual self.
Marie felt an inexplicable pressure from his tone, making it hard for her to answer right away.
"…For the party."
After a moment, Marie, still looking down, whispered,
"There will be… a lot of other people, right?"
"Family members of the cadets, of course, and anyone who received an invitation can come."
Ernest spoke calmly. Yet there was a trace of disappointment in his voice, because even though Haires was in Grimman, he had sent a letter saying he wouldn't attend the year-end party.
"..."
Marie hesitated for a while. There would certainly be a crowd at the year-end party. Being there as an Aeblonian and a Fiders on top of that, there wasn't a single advantage for her.
"I'll go."
But Marie couldn't let this opportunity pass her by. She carefully folded the dress, making sure it didn't crease oddly. When Ernest opened his bag, Marie placed the dress inside and took the bag from him.
"All right, I understand."
Ernest didn't tell Marie not to go, nor did he warn her. He simply offered the only words he could to someone who decided to take that risk.
"Cheer up, Marie."
"Okay."
Marie finally looked up at Ernest and replied with energy. Then, clutching the bag tightly to her chest, she ran off.
...
Unlike usual, Ernest didn't go straight back to his room right away. Instead, he quietly watched Marie's retreating figure. It was probably because she wore an expression quite unlike her usual self.
Marie's face, streaked with red around her eyes, was adorned with a smile—awkward, but unmistakable—a smile Ernest had never seen from her before.
"Ow, my back…"
"You idiot."
"Ah! You bastard!"
As Robert was still lying on the ground groaning, Ernest walked past, giving his back a light kick. That was payback for the snowball fight… no, for the Snow Execution.