The Rural Officer Who Was Once a General

Part 1, Chapter  3

Creak.

Fade dragged an empty chair over and placed it beside his seat in the officers’ duty room.

“Sit.”

At Fade’s gesture, Niss hesitated before lowering himself onto the chair.

“Why did you call me?”

“It’s just a sort of interview. Haven’t you been in this unit much longer than I have? I wanted to learn more about it.”

Niss was among those who had spent a long time in the military within this unit.

“If it’s something I know, I’ll do my best to answer.”

“A lower-ranking officer wouldn’t be able to move a unit on their own accord, would they?”

At Fade’s abrupt question, Niss responded with a puzzled expression.

“If it’s for civilian patrol purposes, it should be possible.”

Niss furrowed his brows slightly, seeming even more perplexed, and continued speaking.

“But may I ask why you’re asking such a thing right from the start?”

“Of course. After all, I wouldn’t expect satisfactory results from a soldier who harbors doubts.”

“Then I’d appreciate an answer.”

“There’s something bothering me. So, we’ll conduct a patrol of the area.”

“What is it that’s bothering you?”

“Hmm, it’s hard to say for certain, but I suspect an infiltration by an enemy ranger unit. Perhaps even with a few light infantry mixed in.”

As Fade explained, Niss’s expression became even more bewildered.

“In this remote area? A place with so little military value that a mid-level officer is assigned as the highest commander?”

‘How self-deprecating. No wonder the unit’s discipline is in shambles.’

There was no way military discipline could be maintained when there was no attachment to the unit.

Even as he thought this, Fade kept his smile and replied.

“That’s exactly why they’d come. This might be considered a military secret, but a supply route to the eastern front passes near this village. It’s quite frequently used. And the only unit nearby is ours. You could say that the supply route was deliberately connected here to avoid placing a large unit, so the enemy wouldn’t notice the movement of supplies.”

“So, you believe the Khanate would send rangers to cut off that supply route? All of a sudden?”

Niss’ expression quickly filled with skepticism.

“The Khanate, huh. I don’t particularly like that term….”

The country currently opposing the Hecate Empire on the eastern front was the Raman Khanate.

It wasn’t uncommon for those who once called themselves the ‘people of the steppe’ back when Fade was Terbior to establish Khanate.

Even if they were heretics worshiping fanatical and bizarre gods, they still needed a leader.

The people of the steppe—born and raised on horseback—would often resort to plundering, using their distinct mobility.

But they had never been a real threat.

There was no need to call upon a Grand General, any seasoned commander could handle them.

They were no more than brigands rather than trained soldiers, scattered and few in number.

However, thirty years ago—about ten years after Terbior met his end at Impregnable—those who followed Raman Khan began unifying the steppe, expanding their forces through conquest and annexation.

The countries that should have quickly intervened and crushed them were already struggling under the invasions of other barbarians.

Raman Khan united most of the steppe people and joined hands with the barbarians.

Only then did the other countries finally recognize the Khanate as a true power.

“The barbarians of the steppe.”

That was the crux of it all, despite everything else.

Even though they had formed a proper nation, trained cavalry, developed a diverse range of military branches, and their military power was growing day by day, they were still just barbarians who couldn’t rid themselves of their savagery.

From what he remembered, it was those same barbarians who had strangled the lives of his beloved juniors, who had resisted until the very end in the Southern Empire.

Fade suppressed the rising anger inside him and continued speaking.

“They wouldn’t think of looting or cutting off supplies. If they knew the location of an attack, they could simply redirect the supply route with some effort. Besides, it’s not like the eastern front is facing a critical supply shortage right now.”

“Then why do you say they would tamper with our supplies?”

“They’d poison them.”

“……!”

Niss eyes widened, doubling in size.

“P-poison, you say?”

“Exactly, and secretly. And if that poison is distributed, and someone on the eastern front becomes poisoned?”

Fade crossed his legs and continued.

“Would the commander be able to tell if the supply is poisoned or not? Or would they take the time to check every single one? What will the soldiers eat in the meantime? No, even if they were to give it out, would the soldiers be able to eat calmly, knowing it might be poisoned food?”

Fade smiled as he spoke such chilling words.

Niss, feeling an eerie sensation from Fade, focused on his words.

“Furthermore, we wouldn’t even know where the poison was added. Does that mean we have to move the entire supply route? What about the people transporting the supplies? How can we trust them?”

Fade ran his tongue over his lips slightly.

By now, his dry lips had become moist again.

“That’s when doubt begins to creep in. Anxiety, suspicion, distrust, and nervousness.”

Fade uncrossed his legs.

“That’s when you lose.”

“B-but why do you think they would suddenly invade this area?”

“When I saw the war map that came in a month ago, one of the Khanate’s forces had taken control of the land beyond that forest.”

Fade stretched his hand out toward the window.

Beyond it, there was a reed field taller than his height, and farther still, a forest-covered ridge could be seen.

“That forest is quite large. If the enemy forces broke through the forest, there’s a chance they would encounter our forces. A ranger unit could easily infiltrate through that reed field. But that forest is massive. Even on horseback, it would take at least three more days to traverse. And during that time, they wouldn’t be able to avoid making smoke signals.”

Niss murmured behind him, as if under his breath, “We’re not the kind of fools who wouldn’t notice that.”

“Hmm, seems you don’t know much.”

“Pardon?”

“The barbarians of the steppe eat spoiled mare’s milk and jerky. At night, they might rely on the light of fireflies. So, smoke signals wouldn’t help us identify them.”

This was something that had been ingrained in him twice.

The first time was during his early years, when he was ambushed by the people of the steppe and barely managed to win.

He won, but his victory was far from exceptional compared to other generals.

He lost more soldiers than usual and fought longer than expected.

He still remembered how much it stung to be mocked by fellow generals.

“How I miss them.”

Half of those comrades had died from old age, and the other half had become fertilizer for the flowers of the battlefield.

Perhaps one or two of them had been killed by the barbarians.

The second time was the loss at that place he couldn’t afford to lose—at Impregnable.

More specifically, it was during the battle that had led to that loss.

Before entering Impregnable, the ones who had ambushed them were from one of the tribes of the steppe.

Thanks to that, they had been forced to retreat and enter Impregnable, leading to the subsequent catastrophe.

“Then they might have already—”

Niss, realizing what Fade meant, spoke with a grave expression, but Fade interrupted him.

“No.”

Niss once again looked puzzled, but this time, he didn’t question it and quietly waited for Fade’s next words.

“For the past month, no supply shipment carrying food has passed through here. During that time, food was transported via a different route, and only armor and horses were sent through here. Perhaps even our empire’s commander had similar thoughts to mine.”

But there was one difference between them—Fade knew the Khanate’s persistence, whereas the commander did not.

“They’ll attack the food supply, even if they have to rely on jerky or—if it comes to it—even chew on the very horses they rode in on.”

His two failures had given him more than enough experience.

“Tomorrow, afternoon, a supply convoy carrying a large amount of grain, alcohol, and medical supplies will pass through this area. And it will pass through a section very close to that reed field.”

“……”

Niss no longer even thought of responding and simply focused on Fade’s words.

“Our unit will conduct a search of the reed field in full gear.”

“…Officer, we need Officer Tryaev’s permission for full armament.”

Officer Tryaev—a mid-level officer in charge of this unit.

From what he’d heard, he was the only one among the commanding officers here who had firsthand war experience, having fought alongside his direct subordinates on the battlefield.

“Haa, is that so?”

Fade slowly rose from his chair.

“Then let’s go see our dear Officer Tr.”

“O-Officer Tr…?”

It seemed the southern-style way of addressing names didn’t work here.

“Hmph, that aside, where is everyone?”

“They’re probably in the dining hall.”

“The dining hall?”

“Yes, it’s lunchtime right now.”

“Ah.”

If he kept talking, he’d end up missing his meal.

“I haven’t even had breakfast…”

“Ack.”

Now that he thought about it, Niss did look a little less filled out than before.

Grrrrumble.

As if to put the final touch on the scene, a loud rumble echoed from Niss’ stomach.

“Aaah…”

Damn, they needed to get food into him quickly—

Daaang! Daaang!

“Hm? What’s that bell for?”

“What else? It means lunchtime is over.”

Oh… It’s fine! It’s called intermittent fasting—skipping meals is supposed to be good for your health sometimes. Yeah, totally.

“Haa, and today was supposed to have meat for the first time in a while…”

Just moments ago, Niss had been in awe of Fade’s insight and strategy, but now, the admiration was rapidly fading from his eyes.

Wow, the trust was completely shattered.

Someone once said that climbing up is hard, but falling down happens fast.

The truth Terbior had spent his whole life learning was now unfolding right before Fade’s eyes.

“Yo.”

At that moment, the door to the officers’ room swung open, and officers entered one after another.

It was as if they had coordinated their sizes—small, medium, and large, stepping in line.

Behind them, a man slightly taller than Fade walked in.

His pale complexion was made even starker by his waist-length white hair.

Scars—both long and short—were scattered across his pale face.

None of the scars were clean, and more than half bore traces of improper treatment, some still slightly festering.

“Are you Officer Tryaev?”

At Fade’s question, Tryaev quietly looked him over before taking a seat and replying.

“Yes. You must be the new junior officer.”

“Yes, my name is Fade.”

“I don’t care about your name.”

Tryaev then turned away, picking up the papers and pen on his desk and starting his work.

“Haha…”

‘Well, damn. What a rude bastard.’

Fade forced himself to maintain a smile and continued the conversation.

“Officer, I have an urgent matter to discuss.”

“…Is it a question or a request? If it’s a question, ask one of the veteran officers.”

“It’s a request. Or rather, you could call it a proposal.”

“…Speak. Keep it brief.”

“We expect a ranger unit from the Khanate to target the supply convoy. I request permission for full armament.”

“…That was certainly brief. Too brief, in fact—that’s the problem.”

Tryaev narrowed his eyes and turned his gaze toward Fade.

“But the way you speak—it sounds more like a command than a request.”

The mid-level officer’s brow furrowed deeply.