Chapter 36

For ten years, I fought in the snowy fields of the north.

A decade long enough for a young man’s youth to pass entirely.

Enough time for a newborn child to grow into a boy or girl.

A period that could completely overturn someone’s life and values.

I sacrificed over a third of my life for the country, fought tooth and nail there, and barely survived.

The young man who was first assigned to the unit became a scar-covered veteran,

and the lieutenant who wanted a relaxed life turned into a battle-hardened survivor, worn out in body and mind.

For family.

For comrades.

For brothers.

For friends.

For cherished subordinates.

For respected superiors.

For the soldiers who believed in me.

For the stable hand who delivered supplies every month.

And for myself.

I fought, clinging to every reason I could find, forcing myself to muster the will to keep going.

I encouraged soldiers whose morale was hitting rock bottom with empty words, lifting them up.

Even when I wanted to give up and die, I gritted my teeth, picked up my gun and command baton, and kept going.

Surviving day by day, enduring day by day, begging for each day.

Leaning on primal survival instincts and a fading sense of duty.

That’s how I spent ten years.

“Unbelievable.”

Because I had spent my entire adult life like this,

I was furious when the queen, in her luxury, ordered the frontlines to retreat.

It felt like my entire life of struggle and sacrifice was being invalidated.

Not wanting to accept that all my dedication and effort meant nothing, I overthrew the country with the help of subordinates who felt the same.

I seized power because I didn’t want to be a pawn in petty politics,

and I played politics to get rewarded for my past achievements.

My actions up to this point could be summarized in two words: survival and reward.

“Unbelievable.”

But now,

are you all saying that all this fighting was meaningless? Even you Imperial bastards who tried to kill us for ten years?

Are you saying that us picking up arms and going to the frontlines was the problem in the first place?

“Lies! Lies! Say it’s a lie right now!! How dare you belittle the sacrifices of our soldiers?! You come begging for negotiations and then pull this stunt?!!”

“Ugh… N-no, that’s not it…”

“Sir! Let him go! If you resort to violence in an official meeting, we won’t be able to handle the fallout!!”

I lunged at Leclerc, grabbed him by the collar, and shook him.

Ignoring all decorum, I held him and shouted with bloodshot eyes,

desperately hoping the horrifying words I just heard were nonsense.

Freed by the intervention of my subordinates, he gasped for breath and managed to retort.

“This isn’t a stunt. I’m just telling the truth. Why would I, trying to negotiate for survival, deliberately provoke your anger?”

“So what you just said is true?”

“Yes. Even a country child in our allied empire knows this story. How the kingdom insulted the empire and brought this war upon itself.”

Leclerc shrugged and looked me in the eye.

“Curious, aren’t you? Let me tell you. Long ago, before the war broke out, there was a time when the empire and the kingdom had good relations. You’ve heard of that, right?”

“…I’ve heard of it.”

I’d heard from my mother that there was a time when the two nations actively exchanged and fostered friendship.

Though I was too young to remember it myself.

As I regained my composure and lowered my voice, Leclerc continued.

“Our two nations sometimes cooperated and fought together against external threats. Like when the Daicing Empire invaded 32 years ago, we joined forces to repel them.”

“…The Five-Year War, you mean.”

“A great victory indeed. I fought in it as a young lieutenant.”

It was during the time when the Daicing Empire was rampaging and waging wars of conquest everywhere.

The two nations blocked an expeditionary force of over 400,000, fought several battles, and eventually repelled them.

It took five years from the start of the war to the signing of the armistice, hence the name.

“Our relations were so good that it wasn’t strange to try to strengthen them through marriage. Though in hindsight, it was a stupid move.”

Leclerc clicked his tongue and spat on the ground.

“When your crown prince came of age, our emperor proposed to marry his second princess to him. To bind the two royal families by blood and create a strong political alliance.”

“But the crown prince’s current wife is from the Liebert marquis family, right? I’ve never heard of him planning to marry a foreigner.”

I was puzzled. I was sure the Liebert marquis family had sent their daughter to the royal family to secure a position as in-laws.

Wasn’t Sigmund von Liebert’s appointment as the Western Front commander, despite his lack of merit, due to his royal connections?

In fact, wasn’t it because of his massive blunder that I had to conscript even the nobles’ private soldiers? So what’s this about a royal marriage?

“That’s because it fell apart before it even got off the ground.”

“…Could you explain in more detail?”

“Our emperor invited your crown prince to meet the princess. To get acquainted and, if possible, build affection. But things went horribly wrong from the very first meeting.”

He gritted his teeth, clearly still angry about it.

“The crown prince did something unspeakable to the princess. I don’t know exactly what, but… it was so rude that the princess wept and the emperor was enraged. It must’ve been something that would’ve buried him in high society if it got out.”

“Excuse me?”

So, the crown prince went on a blind date arranged by his future father-in-law, crossed a line right away, and got kicked out? What kind of messed-up story is this?

“As a result, the crown prince and his entourage were immediately expelled back to the kingdom, and the marriage was called off. What happened next, you know well.”

“The war, you mean.”

“Exactly. How could we stand by after our beloved princess was humiliated and the imperial dignity was shattered? Of course, we had to seek thorough revenge, no matter how long it took or how much we suffered.”

It’s a convincing argument. Even if it’s true, there’s nothing awkward or illogical about the explanation.

But.

That’s why it’s even harder to believe.

Royalty values face and dignity so much.

They’ll gossip for days over a minor breach of dining etiquette.

And you’re telling me that they went to a foreign country, an important ally no less, and ruined national prestige and relations with such idiocy? Does that make any sense?

As if to deliver the final blow to my wavering doubts, Leclerc added one more thing.

“If you can’t believe it, think about it the other way. Has the heir to the throne ever married ordinary nobles before? Isn’t it common sense to marry someone from a small kingdom’s royalty?”

“…!!”

Oh, right.

This fantasy world is similar to medieval Europe.

International marriages among the ruling class are common, and marrying within one’s social status is the norm.

It’s not like Joseon, where they banned intermarriage and chose the crown prince’s bride from among the nobles. That concept doesn’t exist here.

Unless you’re from a duchy or a county, you’re not even considered marriage material.

‘The Liebert marquis family… was an ordinary family. Their influence was ambiguous.’

But if they married into the royal family without having their own fiefdom, vassals, or significant wealth, there must’ve been a serious reason for it.

If that reason was the fallout from the broken engagement and diplomatic relations with the empire… it all fits perfectly.

“Thank you for the detailed explanation.”

I barely managed to reply, clenching my teeth. It felt like I was barely holding onto my sanity.

“But it’s hard to trust your words right now. We’re enemies, after all. For all I know, you could be making this up on the spot to deceive me.”

“I understand. It’s hard to accept everything based on one side’s story.”

Unlike me, who was utterly confused,

Leclerc, oozing with composure, nodded sympathetically.

“Go back and investigate slowly. With your authority, you can mobilize the kingdom’s intelligence agency, right? If you look carefully, you’ll find that what I said is true.”

“…I’ll do that.”

* * * * *

In the end, we only reached an agreement on immediate matters at that meeting.

As a symbol of defeat, we received part of their military standards and remaining supplies in exchange for guaranteeing the Imperial Forces’ safe withdrawal.

As for prisoners, we agreed to handle them through future exchanges or ransom negotiations.

Regarding the armistice, we decided to consult the parliament and later negotiate the terms with the high command.

“We’ll withdraw now. Let’s meet somewhere other than the battlefield next time.”

“I hope so. The sooner the war ends, the better.”

Even on the way back to Rahator, my mind was filled with one thought.

Was our sacrifice truly worth it?

If not, how should this emptiness be repaid?