For a while after that, I was ordered to desk duty, wrestling with paperwork at the Ceremonial Battalion Headquarters. I’d originally worked here as a desk-bound noncommissioned officer anyway, so every task was familiar. Pretty much the same as in my previous life.
No computers or email made it a bit rough, but deadlines were looser for that reason. Even urgent paperwork had due dates two days later. All of it was handwritten and tedious, but at least each case moved at a slow pace.
「First Lieutenant, you look like you’re enjoying yourself.」
Second Lieutenant Crimine had dropped by my office and said that, so I stretched in my chair.
「We’re an execution unit and yet I don’t have to kill anyone. And I get the same pay. What’s not to love?」
I thought it was a perfectly normal answer, but Crimine tilted her head.
「Wouldn’t it be easier to just execute someone than write paperwork?」
「Don’t say scary things.」
It wasn’t her fault—it was this world’s fault, where human life was cheap. Public executions were entertainment.
She leaned over my desk.
「What kind of paperwork are you writing?」
「A report on some unknown someone who got executed for some unclear reason. Just fixing the format so it can be submitted to the Imperial Court.」
When things were slow, we got sent to maintain order in the Capital, hanging thieves and such. So as a whole, the Battalion was killing someone nearly every day.
Robbery was death penalty on the first offense; pickpocketing and burglary could get you executed on a second. The number of executions was absurdly high, but crime never decreased. In a way, that was impressive. It showed how widespread poverty was.
「Why don’t we occasionally do a joint firing squad with the Second Company?」
She said it like suggesting an office volleyball game. Please don’t kill people in that tone.
But since it doubled as firearms practice, the Imperial Court actually encouraged it. So Crimine wasn’t at fault.
「I like shooting, but cleaning the barrel and washing the uniform after is a pain.」
「With black uniforms, nobody cares about gunpowder stains. You really are a neat freak, First Lieutenant.」
Black powder’s main ingredient was saltpeter—potassium nitrate. That couldn’t be good for fabric, right? Plus sulfur and charcoal. Better safe than sorry, so I always washed.
I set down my pen and looked up at Crimine.
「By the way, learned anything more about ‘Yuoh Nevilnel’?」
「The Battalion Commander asked Lord Humarzov, but he didn’t know who used that name. Up north they don’t even know the Nevilnel family existed.」
「Yeah, thought so.」
In this world, with no television or even newspapers, different regions of the Empire might as well be different worlds. Nobody knew anything about each other.
I tapped the report on my desk with a fingertip.
「Maybe the report got swapped before reaching the Court. I could alter this report myself, or you could replace it after I write it.」
「All you’d have to do is say, ‘I’ll deliver it for you.’」
「Exactly. No end to what’s unknown.」
The real problem—was the hidden hand pro-Emperor, anti-Emperor, or something else? Multiple schemes might overlap, or confusion and miscommunication might have twisted things.
With the info on hand, I could speculate. But I’d been taught at the Academy how dangerous that was.
「Unlike a desk exercise, real battle always has an unseen, uncertain element. And it’s the same outside the battlefield. Judge only by what you can see, and what you can’t see will trip you.」
「Oh, I learned that. What was it called again?」
「‘Fog of War,’ Second Lieutenant Crimine. From General Guspentarf’s Fundamentals of Operations.」
The exact same phrase existed in my previous life, so I remembered being struck during that lecture.
In my past life, who was it that first spoke of the ‘Fog of War’…?
Didn’t seem like Moltke. Jomini wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know enough to recall another likely name. My mind was foggy.
Useless to dwell on it. I decided to just remember the knowledge from this world.
「For low-rankers like us, dragged into intrigue, there’s nothing we can understand. We have to accept that, and act even while ignorant.」
「I don’t understand, but I understand.」
「Good.」
Now I didn’t know if I understood or not either.
I stood and looked out the window.
「People fear the unknown and try to turn it into the known. But what should be most feared is mistaking the unknown for the known.」
「I’ve never heard that. Who said it?」
I tapped my chest with a fingertip.
「Me.」
「Oh.」
Still as rude as ever…
The reason I didn’t fear death much was that death wasn’t unknown to me. I’d already experienced it once.
If death led to reincarnation, then it wasn’t an end. And if death ended in just staying dead, that wouldn’t be bad either. Life was a hassle.
「In short, for us low-rankers, thinking too hard is pointless. When the time comes, the Battalion Commander will think for us.」
「She does know plenty of things we don’t.」
In the Legitimate Empire, field officers were different creatures from us junior officers, entrusted with all kinds of secrets.
Most Imperial officers retired at Captain. Only one in ten reached Major.
There were countless platoons for Second and First Lieutenants to lead, but a Major commanded a battalion of nine to sixteen platoons. Far fewer needed.
That was why the Ceremonial Battalion had to be “a battalion” even in name—staffing required a field officer.
Which made Major Gehenbach, our Commander, a special existence. We trusted her deeply. Many officers would kill even the Emperor if she ordered it. First Lieutenant Meinen had been one of them.
「So until the Commander orders otherwise, I’ll fiddle with paperwork here and collect my pay.」
「Low ambitions…」
「That’s called devotion to duty, you rude brat.」
This girl always found ways to insult me. Couldn’t let my guard down.
Just then, a knock at the door. A Company NCO’s voice.
「First Lieutenant Fonkt, are you in?」
「Yeah, come in.」
The NCO saluted, then looked between me and Crimine.
「Perfect timing. The Commander orders both of you to report to her office immediately.」
「Got it, thanks.」
What could this be?