Chapter 71 - Shared Responsibility (5)
After the First Mock Battle ended, the cadets gathered again in front of the transport vehicles.
Thomas didn't say a single word, nor did he show any emotion.
Still, the third years felt as if Thomas was scolding them with his silence alone.
"Return your Balt Batteries."
Thomas collected the Balt Batteries from both Baltrachers. Instead of being recharged right away, these Balt Batteries would be handed over to the instructor responsible for Baltracher training. When fighting ordinary people, inspecting the Balt Battery doesn't really tell you much—it's overwhelming, after all.
But when Baltrachers fight each other, just looking at the Balt Battery can reveal a lot of information.
The Imperial Military Academy meticulously records every detail about its Baltracher cadets. In particular, the efficiency of drawing Balt from the Balt Battery is crucial information.
Even using the exact same Balt Battery, one person might be able to fight all day, while another might drain it completely after a single small skirmish.
This efficiency is separate from output.
Above all, while output can be improved with training, efficiency never changes.
It is determined the moment you are born.
Efficiency is the most important standard for evaluating a Baltracher; if your efficiency is high, not only can you dramatically reduce the rate of Balt loss during Balt Battery production, but you can also fight for much longer periods in battle. Considering that the miraculous power of Balt, aside from Balt Lighting, has failed to be commercialized for civilian use mainly because of the problem of Balt Battery supply, you can see just how important efficiency is.
Marie's Balt Battery still had about half its Balt remaining, while her opponent's was nearly depleted. Even taking into account that the opposing Baltracher had slightly higher output, the difference in efficiency between the two was enormous.
Marie kept losing during the fight because she lacked experience.
The difference in output was within a manageable range.
In other words, even if they fought with similar output, Marie could last nearly twice as long as her opponent.
That didn't mean Marie was some kind of extraordinary genius.
Her Balt usage efficiency was just a bit above average, while her opponent's was slightly below average.
Still, that difference is decisive in real combat.
It affects not only how long you can keep fighting, but also because if there's a problem with Balt Battery supply, the more efficient Baltracher is prioritized to receive Balt Batteries.
"After lunch, we'll proceed with the second Mock Battle. Eat well and get some good rest."
At Thomas's instruction, the cadets split into two groups by year, eating their meal and starting their strategy meetings.
"I just can't understand it. How and when did they even enter the forest? I was certain we kept our eyes on the forest's edge without a single gap."
The third years put everything else aside and tried to figure out how the Ranger Unit led by Ernest had managed to infiltrate the forest. If they didn't figure that out, they'd have no choice but to be caught off guard in the next battle as well.
"They were already in the forest before things even started."
"What?"
It was the third-year Training Instructor who revealed the answer. He was on edge, worried that his fellow third years might lose to the second years. Just as Thomas hadn't prevented anyone from entering the forest before the battle began, he also hadn't stopped the Training Instructor from giving information to his fellow cadets.
"This is cheating!"
"It's not cheating. There's nothing in the rules against it. It just means we can do the same thing."
"But they'll be on guard now."
"Even so, if we get caught, they won't let us enter the forest."
The Training Instructors pointed out the loopholes in the rules to their peers, as well as the lines that shouldn't be crossed.
"Our noble Seniors are conducting their strategy meeting in such an elegant fashion."
Robert scoffed as he watched the third-year Training Instructor at work.
"We expected this. Don't whine about it," Wilfried replied, sounding calm but a bit rough.
"So, what do you think, Ernest?" Ferdinand asked, turning to Ernest for his opinion. Despite being the overall commander for the second battle, in a situation defending the forest from the enemy, Ernest's opinion carried more weight than Ferdinand's.
"..."
Ernest stared in silence, his eyes deep and dark, watching the circle of third years engrossed in their strategy meeting. His gaze darted about restlessly, quickly yet carefully studying the faces of each third-year cadet.
"Marie, how much power do you think they can use?"
Instead of laying out the plan right away, Ernest cautiously probed for information.
"How much power, exactly?"
"Enough to protect themselves and all the third years while crossing the forest."
"...That's not possible."
Marie thought for a moment, then shook her head.
"Maybe on the plains, but not in the forest. The longer their formation stretches out, the more Balt they'll have to expend. Honestly, it's not that efficient to begin with, and even for a pretty strong Baltracher, it would be hard. If that were possible, the Empire would have unified the Continent in the War of Conquest fifteen years ago."
Marie spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. Unlike when she had moved like a wild animal before, there was now a clear, intelligent light in her voice.
"Then let's stick to the original plan."
"Sounds good."
Ernest decided it would be best to proceed with the plan they'd made the night before, and Ferdinand accepted this without protest.
"Heh heh heh… Let's give our Seniors an experience that's both fun and valuable."
"Robert, I told you not to laugh like that. It's unsettling, I said."
"Oh, but you're smiling just like I am, aren't you?"
Most of the second-year cadets wore the same expression. Wilfried was no exception.
The only difference was that while the others looked wicked and sinister, Wilfried resembled a beautiful angel—one who had descended from the heavens to punish humanity, his cold sneer as striking as it was chilling.
To be honest, Wilfried was incredibly pleased right now. He was almost embarrassed by how much he was enjoying himself.
'How childish.'
Wilfried was perfectly aware of where this pleasure came from, and he chastised himself for it.
It was the sense of reassurance he felt from being with his peers. And as the most noble-born boy among the officer cadets—despite his own self-loathing regarding his bloodline—he took a guilty delight in watching the high nobles, the very cadets of noble birth, being utterly broken and driven to despair.
Wilfried thought himself terribly childish for these feelings. He forced back the smile that kept surfacing and tried to compose his expression. Then, his eyes met Ernest's exactly.
"Ernest, what are you staring at me for? It's making me uncomfortable—could you stop?"
"…Why am I the only one you're picking on?"
"Shouldn't you know that better than anyone?"
Wilfried realized, with a scowl, that Ernest had once again seen straight through his thoughts with those restless eyes of his. The realization made his irritation plain across his face. I really can't stand him—every little thing about him rubs me the wrong way.
"If you're having fun right now, isn't that enough?"
Ernest whispered quietly to Wilfried. Wilfried showed no reaction whatsoever.
After finishing their meal, the cadets headed off to their respective positions to prepare for the second mock battle.
"..."
"..."
Just like the second years had done in the first battle, the third-year scouts tried to sneak into the forest.
But they couldn't take a single step inside because the second-year cadets were standing right at the entrance, staring them down without budging.
In fact, during their operations meeting the previous day, the second years had planned to deliberately lure the third-year scouts deep into the forest and wipe them out all at once as soon as the mock battle began.
This plan took into account how the first battle had played out and its results.
However, considering all the variables and wanting to play it safe, they decided it would be far more effective to block the third years from even entering in the first place. They were confident they could win without taking unnecessary risks.
"Heh heh heh…"
"Keh heh heh!"
"..."
Ignoring his classmates who had picked up Robert's crude laughter, Wilfried decided to focus on the task that had been assigned to him.
Ferdinand and Ernest were enough to command this particular tactic.
Wilfried, as an ordinary soldier, only had to do as he was told. It was much easier just following orders—there was no responsibility in that. Knowing full well that this was a foolish thing to do, he still couldn't shake off his discomfort.
"We never would have imagined in the past that we'd end up doing something like this…"
Robert suddenly snapped at Wilfried's muttering.
"'Something like this'? Do you even know how you nobles get your hands on flawless pelts without so much as a scratch?"
"It's all from traps. They use traps to catch them, so there won't be any marks from arrows or bullets. But if you leave an animal in a trap too long, it thrashes around and gets injured, or some other beast might attack it first."
"Robert, could you not act smug just because you heard that from Ernest?"
"And honestly, it's pretty fun to catch people with traps too."
"…."
"You can't exactly say you disagree, right? Can you? Huh?"
Robert pressed Wilfried in a sly tone, knowing Wilfried couldn't bring himself to deny it. Wilfried shot Robert a strange look, then turned his attention to quietly setting more traps aimed at tripping and bringing down the Third Years.
"This side is ready."
"Good. Fall back to your assigned position."
Meanwhile, Ernest was busy overseeing the trap placements and troop assignments, working out where the enemy would likely try to come through. If this had been the old days, the side effects of the tonic would have given him headaches and made it impossible to relay orders this quickly and precisely.
"As a field commander, there's no one more reliable than Krieger."
"He'd probably perform well at headquarters too, but he really shines out here in the field."
"If he's not careful, he might ruin his chances for promotion. Isn't it true that field commanders have lost some clout these days?"
"That's because there's no war."
"Hmmm..."
Anyone who'd served under Ernest's command couldn't help but praise his talent as a field commander. The problem was, he was so gifted that it hardly seemed possible for him to land a cushy job at headquarters—the certain path to success. Even a fool with working eyes and ears would send Ernest to the front rather than let him sit in comfort behind a desk.
Bang!
A gunshot ripped through the crisp spring air, signaling the start of combat.
Third-year scouts, who had been lurking at the forest's edge, quickly fanned out and entered the woods. Second-year cadets, realizing how reckless it would be to face the third years head-on, quietly retreated.
It would take some time before the third-year main force arrived. Until then, the scouts among the cadets would need to assess the forest's dangers and clear a path…
"Aaagh!"
A scream pierced the stillness of the forest.
"Ugh!"
"Gah!"
Cries of pain rang out from all directions, and then the forest fell silent again.
"These lunatics!"
A moment later, a furious shout echoed through the forest.
It was the voices of third-year cadets who, after tripping over a trap and being shot by bullets from second years lying in ambush nearby, couldn't resist expressing their overwhelming emotions—even as they died.
Ernest had put his remarkable talent to full use: before the battle began, he blanketed the forest with traps and positioned his forces with such precision that he transformed a training ground for young noblemen's mock war games into a living hell.
Now, among all the officer cadets, the only one who could move safely in this forest was Ernest Krieger himself.
"Senior, you're dead, you know."
"..."
As the saying goes, it's the dead who have the most to say. But a rule is a rule, so he could only keep quiet.
"…Are you guys seriously out of your minds?"
A third-year, who was lying flat on the ground, watched as second-year cadets crept over, disarmed the trap, and dragged his body deeper into the forest.
He asked them weakly, realizing that these lunatics were trying to hide the corpses of the third years to conceal the existence of the traps.
"We're doing this because we are in our right minds. It's better to win than to lose, isn't it?"
"…You're right. Impressive, truly."
"Thank you"
Seeing how calm the second year sounded, the "corpse" being dragged along nodded seriously in agreement.
Somehow, a strange but warm atmosphere flowed between the supposed victim and perpetrator.
"But how did you even know I'd be coming this way to set a trap here?"
"We set traps all over the entire forest, just in case."
"..."
"And Krieger has already checked all the likely entry routes, so no matter where you came from, you were bound to get caught."
"Ha!"
"We should get going now…"
"Alright, the corpse will keep its mouth shut and stay quiet."
Although he had promised to keep quiet as a corpse, a moment later he couldn't help but open his mouth again.
"If you've come to rescue me, you're already too late. I'm dead."
A third-year cadet who arrived late walked up on his own, and the cadet who'd already "died" thought he'd come to save him.
"No, I'm dead too."
But in fact, he was already dead as well.
Even as a corpse, the humiliation of being dragged on the ground was too much to bear, so he'd walked over himself.
"..."
"..."
They lay down quietly among the bushes designated for hiding bodies, looked at each other for a moment, then simultaneously averted their eyes and closed them.
The spring breeze felt refreshingly cool.
"Where did all the scouts go?"
When the main force of the third years arrived at the forest, not a single scout remained to greet them and relay enemy information.
The sharp ones, startled by the screams, had tried to slip out of the forest—hiding themselves with grass and tree branches as they crept toward the edge.
But the Ranger Unit ambushed and killed every last one of them.
The third-year main force waited outside the forest for a while, but no matter how long they stood there, it wouldn't bring dead scouts back to life.
"Damn. This is a nightmare."
"There's no choice. This is all we can do now."
In the end, the third-year main force decided to rally around their faith in the Baltracher's power and press into the forest as one.
They would have to enter enemy territory, which was under complete control, without a scrap of intelligence.
No sane commander would ever attempt it, but with no path of retreat, attack was their only option.
At least they still had the Baltracher on their side.
As long as he could block the enemy's attacks and lead the charge, there was a chance to force another head-on clash and win through sheer strength.
"..."
The Baltracher, now tasked with protecting dozens of people through terrain this tangled, had gone pale.
Even advancing with just the Balt Shield in the open plains and protecting only the front took a huge toll. But here in the forest, having to defend an extended and constantly twisting formation was utter madness.
If that were possible, the Imperial Army would have already wiped out the Alliance Army hidden in the forests and mountains and unified the continent long ago!
Vmmm...
But in any case, they had no choice but to do as ordered, and the Fiders, who had been trained not to voice any opinions, began to use Balt to its fullest for this reckless task.
"We break through as fast as possible."
"Run!"
The third years knew perfectly well that this was insane and made no sense.
After three years of studying Military Science at the Imperial Military Academy, how could they not know?
But there was truly no other way.
The third years entered the forest through a path invisible to the eye, but one that any bipedal creature with a higher viewpoint would naturally take. They couldn't spread the Balt Shield too wide, so everyone tried to bunch together as much as possible. Yet, the unseen path was too narrow, and the formation inevitably stretched out, lengthening front to back.
"Great. We're doomed."
Even as they sprinted in chaos, every third year was acutely aware of how pathetic they looked. Charging rapidly through a forest under total enemy control, with no scouts, the file strung out in a long line, their flanks fully exposed, without even a second to keep watch on the surroundings? They might as well just stick the muzzle of a loaded gun in their mouths and pull the trigger.
At least then, they'd die cleanly without having to see themselves end up in such a wretched state.
Everything was unfolding exactly according to the second years' plan.
The worst-case scenario in a military operation is when the enemy's intentions play out perfectly.
Even if you have to stab yourself in the gut, you must never let the opponent get what they want.
Yet here the third years were, completely powerless, while the second years executed their strategy to flawless perfection.
"Agh!"
Crash!
So, the third years had no choice but to take every hit the second years threw at them.
The leaders at the front tripped over hidden traps and fell, and those rushing behind crashed into them in a heap.
"Damn it!"
When the front stopped, the entire group came to a halt, and now everyone realized this damn forest was littered with nasty traps. From here on, they'd have to advance far more carefully. To make matters worse, the Baltracher was burning through Balt nonstop just to keep the Barrier up.
"What if we use Balt Wind or telekinesis to clear the path ahead as we go…"
"That would use up even more energy. That Aeblon girl is probably relaxing right now, just waiting for our own Baltracher to wear himself out."
"..."
"Oh, that's it. We lost. We really did. We lost completely without even being able to put up a fight. It's an utter defeat—no excuses. I surrender!"
"Hold on! What do you mean, surrender!"
The cadet who had been serving as the third years' commander chewed anxiously on his lip, then suddenly let out a chuckle and announced their surrender.
Everyone either jumped in surprise or, filled with anger, began to berate the cadet who had declared surrender.
"We won't know unless we fight it out to the end!"
"If we fight to the end, all that awaits us is more hardship and then defeat. We were already beaten before we even started fighting. Ah! What a truly valuable experience!"
"You spineless bastard!"
"It's not about lacking guts. It's called being rational."
"...Instructor Kohler."
While the third years argued over surrender, Thomas appeared from behind them.
Everyone spun around in shock to see him.
Even though keeping watch to the rear was basic procedure, not one of them had noticed Thomas closing in right behind.
"But it's unfortunate that you couldn't think of any option other than dying or surrendering," Thomas said calmly, wearing a curious smile.
"Retreating isn't an option, is it?"
"It's better than surrender. Even if we're sent to a court-martial, at least we won't be executed for treason."
"That's true. Then let's retreat."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible."
A powerful voice echoed through the quiet forest.
Ferdinand Hartmann, who at fifteen had a frame more robust than most twenty-year-old young men, and a voice as deep and resonant as the sea, emerged from between the trees.
"It's either total annihilation or surrender. You have only those two choices."
Boom!
As Ferdinand urged them to surrender and all eyes fixed on him, Marie appeared beside the Baltracher at the center of the long, stretched-out line of third years.
She struck the Balt Shield with her full strength using telekinesis.
The third-year Baltracher, staggered by the sudden and massive blow, toppled over.
"Ugh!"
"Wait—!"
So much Balt had already been used up to protect their long line, and their power had been spread too thin. As a result, the line couldn't withstand Marie's attack. The outcome was devastating.
Thud.
On the opposite side of Marie, the bushes rustled, and Ernest—who had been hiding under a cover of dirt and grass—burst forth with two Ranger cadets, charging like lightning. Without hesitation, they fired their crossbows at the fallen enemy Baltracher and then struck lightly with their bayonets to make sure of the kill.
A hail of wooden bolts came flying at those who had just succeeded in assassinating the enemy Baltracher. But not a single one struck them. Now, only one Baltracher remained on the battlefield—Marie.
"..."
The third-year cadets stood in a daze, watching as Ernest and the two second-year cadets calmly walked across the line of third years, protected by Marie's telekinesis.
The bullets they had fired were blocked mid-air by her power and dropped harmlessly to the ground.
"Surrender."
Ferdinand once again called on them to surrender.
But unlike before, his words now carried the unmistakable tone of a command.
If the Baltracher were still standing, they might have tried to keep fighting, and perhaps even negotiated for decent terms upon surrender.
But with their Baltracher assassinated, the third years had lost their ability to resist.
Marie, still full of stamina and with her Balt power intact, stood on the side of the second years, and now more second-year cadets were emerging from the forest, crossbows aimed as they revealed themselves.
The second years completely surrounded both flanks of the long, stretched-out formation.
It was a situation they couldn't win—even without Marie.
"We surrender."
The third-year commander formally declared surrender in a calm voice.
This time, no one voiced a single objection.
The third years, after losing thirteen—including their Baltracher—surrendered.
The second years suffered not a single casualty.
"Remember this well."
In the forest, where the battle had ended almost anticlimactically with the third years' surrender, Thomas spoke, his voice drifting as if lost in the mists of old battlefields.
"This is just a fragment of what true war is."
Thomas slowly turned his clouded eyes to Ernest.
The fire-scarred lips curled into a bitter smile.
"Feels like I've come home."
That was the highest praise Thomas Kohler, who had once crawled at the bottom of hell and tasted rotten blood and entrails, could give a cadet as an instructor.
It really did feel like coming home.
Thomas Kohler had died once on the battlefield and was reborn there, so that place was truly his home.
"We're heading back to the Military Academy. But before that, make sure to dismantle every damn trap you set up in the forest."
With that, Thomas strode away, quickly putting distance between himself and this wretched place.
"…Dismantle… How are we supposed to do that?"
"…We just have to…"
And so, the second-year cadets turned pale as they realized they'd have to take down all the traps after the mock battle.
Crude as they were, they'd set almost a hundred of them—how long would it take to dismantle them all?
"Hey, Robert. Give me a hand."
"Huh? With what?"
"Come here for a second. I need help lifting this."
"How come you—waaah!"
"Wilfried! I caught Robert!"
"Aaaargh! You damn bastard! Betraying your own friend!"
During this process, Ernest managed to trap Robert and hang him upside down from a tree—a minor incident, but likely not an important one. What's truly frightening is that they had set up these kinds of traps while preparing for the mock battle against the third years.
"Robert, any last words?"
Wilfried, forgetting all pretenses, ran over panting, his beautiful blond hair damp with sweat as he brushed it back and flashed a smile fresher than spring.
"Wilfried! Listen to me very carefully! Shooting me now might be fun for a moment, but in the end, you'll end up owing Ernest! You'd be better off just enjoying the sight of me hanging here!"
Instead of begging for his life, Robert, true son of a merchant, tried to reason with Wilfried by weighing the pros and cons.
"You make a good point. But honestly, just giving in to the joy of this moment doesn't sound so bad."
Wilfried loaded a wooden bolt into his crossbow, beaming like an angel.
Next to him, Ernest stood smiling warmly as he watched Robert dangle from the tree. Robert was right. Catching someone in a trap is actually quite fun.
Robert's scream, hanging upside down from the tree, was truly, unbelievably sweet.