Chapter 30 - The Despair Does Not Belong To Us (6)
Marie woke up late in the evening. She was still sprawled out on the floor of the Special Training Division Instructor's Office, soaked completely through with rainwater and mud.
"Marie Fiders."
"…Yes, Instructor."
As Marie struggled to her feet, Max called her name without even glancing her way. Marie replied weakly, her voice raspy and cracked. She already knew what Max was about to say to her. Something about how disgraceful the Aeblon people were, or how she'd gotten herself carried back here after fainting.
"I heard you performed impressively today. Well done."
The unexpected compliment made Marie freeze up, tense with anxiety. She wondered if she had misheard, or perhaps Max was about to mock her in some roundabout way.
"I've already taken care of your treatment. If you get plenty of rest until tomorrow morning, you'll recover."
…
Marie stared absently down at her own body. Then, she realized she was standing steadily on her own two legs—even though earlier, she'd reached her limit and hadn't even been able to get up. She was just a little tired, that's all.
A First-Class Baltracher from the Imperial Military Academy had been called to heal Marie.
Marie was startled by this. In truth, she had plenty of experience being treated by First-Class Baltrachers. After all, cadets of the Special Training Division underwent extremely harsh training.
The easiest way to learn how to use the Balt Shield was to know the terror of staring down the barrel of a gun pointed at you. The first lessons were the pain of torn flesh and broken bones, and from that pain, you learned how to wield the Balt.
Marie had entered the academy at ten years old, and that very year, bullets had struck her body directly.
Marie had even endured cruel torture, all in the name of mental fortitude training. Even now, with the slightest mistake, she was subjected to torture for the sake of mental discipline. Each time, it was a First-Class Baltracher who healed her.
This was done only to Baltracher cadets of commoner or slave background—those who bore the surname Fiders. After all, they wouldn't dare do such things to the noble-born, would they?
That was why Marie knew perfectly well that something as trivial as exhaustion didn't warrant using precious First-Class Baltrachers and Balt Batteries.
"In addition, you can take the whole day off tomorrow."
"What?"
Marie gasped and repeated the words, unable to believe what she'd just heard. Max scowled, eyes narrowing with contempt as he glared at her. Only then did Marie realize her mind was clear and she hadn't misheard.
"Ah, understood."
Her voice trembled as she replied. Max turned his attention back to the documents on his desk and resumed scribbling with his quill.
"You may go."
"Yes."
At Max's order, Marie hurried to leave the Instructor's Office. But with her hand on the doorknob, she suddenly froze.
Lost in thought, Marie stood motionless. Even so, Max didn't spare her a single glance.
"…Instructor."
"Speak."
After a long silence, Marie forced out the words, barely managing to address Max. His indifferent tone sent a chill through her, making her question whether she should even say what was on her mind.
Her face twisted into the only expression she could manage. The small, delicate girl's features contorted with a burst of defiance.
"During my free time, is it alright if I go to the Main Dormitory?"
With her face hardened and her voice sharp—though her shoulders quivered slightly—Marie summoned the courage to ask.
Annoyed, Max replied:
"Do I have to spell out every single thing you should or shouldn't do in your free time?"
"…I'm sorry."
Marie barely moved her lips as she gave her small reply. But a moment later, she looked up at Max in surprise.
Though Max sounded irritated, he hadn't told her she couldn't go. As a rule, as long as a cadet doesn't break any rules during their free time, instructors don't care what they do.
With her lips pressed tightly together, Marie saluted Max. Max gave a dismissive wave of his hand, signaling her to hurry up and leave.
After exiting the Instructor's Office, Marie almost dashed straight to the Main Dormitory, but she stopped herself. It was already too late—the free time had ended. Struggling to contain her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation, Marie returned to her room.
Tomorrow. I'll go tomorrow.
qNo, I can go see him whenever I want, from now on.
With her face scrunched up, Marie practically skipped as she walked.
"..."
***
Even though he'd slept soundly until dinner, not all his fatigue had faded. He'd napped through his free time as well. Afterwards, Ernest felt a bit of regret. He was still tired, but it wasn't enough to ignore the persistent thoughts churning in his mind and just fall asleep.
He replayed today's Mock Battle Training in his head, remembered how Wilfried and Ferdinand tried to keep him in check, and then thought of Marie Fiders.
He recalled Instructor Max Grimm's behavior and the faces of the Baltracher Cadets—pale, terrified, walking like the living dead—flashing through his mind.
It was only now that Ernest realized why Marie had so desperately wanted some words of encouragement from him. Even just a small, meaningless comment would have helped keep her from falling apart.
Having come to that realization, Ernest—perpetually struggling to focus for long—ended up pushing Marie from his mind just as quickly.
I've already collected 5 merit points.
This was the biggest reason Ernest couldn't fall asleep.
I can go on leave.
With 5 merit points, he could get permission to go off-campus. He could go home and tell Haires that his son had done so well!
Forgetting all about the Special Training Division and Marie, Ernest became absorbed in thinking about what he would write in his letter to his father during his next free period.
In the end, Ernest fell asleep very late, and the next morning, he paid the price for his late night—still feeling tired when he woke up.
But even though he trudged through the whole day in a fog of exhaustion, Ernest was thoroughly enjoying himself just by composing the letter to his father in his mind, telling him about his upcoming leave.
"Hey, hey... You've got a visitor...?"
Then, during free time after dinner, just as Ernest sat down to write that letter to his father, he was interrupted in an unexpected way.
"A visitor? For me?"
"Yeah... Well, it's not for me, so it must be for you..."
Puzzled by Robert's oddly evasive tone, Ernest got up and stepped outside, where he found someone waiting for him.
...
...
It was Marie, wearing a cadet uniform that was much too big for her, as if she was sneaking around in her older sister's clothes, and she was glaring up at Ernest with a fierce look on her face.
A suffocating silence filled the air All the First-Year Cadets who had been passing by to enjoy their free time poked their heads out through the door cracks, whispering quietly as they watched.
"..."
"..."
The silence pressed on painfully, enveloping them both. Ernest was so flustered by Marie's unexpected visit that he couldn't bring himself to say anything, and Marie, so tense she could only manage a single, rigid expression, just stood there frozen.
After a long, heavy silence, Ernest finally realized what Marie wanted.
"...C-cheer up..."
His voice quivered with embarrassment as he spoke softly.
Marie's face twisted even more fiercely. Ernest hadn't thought it possible for her expression to look any more contorted.
At her reaction, the observing First-Year Cadets who had been whispering quickly shut their mouths. Since they hadn't heard what Ernest said, they were now fully on edge, seeing this small but fierce and powerful Baltracher look like she was about to explode in anger.
"...Yeah."
With her twisted face, Marie looked up at Ernest, gave a tiny nod, muttered a brief reply, and then, looking as if she might actually murder someone, turned sharply on her heel and strode away with a terrifying glare.
"W-what did she say? What's going on?"
Robert crept over to Ernest and whispered anxiously. The tension made even speaking quietly feel like a risk.
"I, I told her to cheer up..."
"...What?"
When Ernest answered Robert in an awkward voice, Robert looked at him as if a chicken had just barked like a dog.
What kind of nonsense is this guy spouting?
***
"What you did in the final battle was incredible."
"Ravid too... actually, Wilfried as well. I didn't expect it, but he turned out to be capable of some pretty underhanded moves. Did he plan that from the beginning, just for the last battle? Honestly, he's impressive. He's not someone you can underestimate just because he's the Young Master of the Duke's House."
"Yeah, but still, Krieger... I really didn't expect something like that to happen. If only we hadn't been on the receiving end, it would've been great."
The Military Faction cadets sat together, going over the mock battle training from the day before. Normally, they would do this review on the evening of the training itself, but they'd been far too exhausted yesterday for that.
The first two battles had made quite an impression as well, but nothing compared to the final one. Wilfried had been plotting his strategy step by step from the very beginning, just for that last confrontation. Then there was Ernest, who managed to break through purely on the strength of his leadership, even after falling straight into Wilfried's trap.
Of course, Ferdinand and the hidden efforts of the other Military Faction cadets throughout this process definitely couldn't be overlooked. If Ferdinand hadn't pushed Marie to exhaustion, they would have been stuck right from the start.
And in that heavy rain and wind, there was almost nothing the Noble Faction cadets could do. In reality, it was as if Ferdinand himself had led the entire Alliance Army.
Still, the fact remains—despite all those efforts, they lost. It was a complete defeat, one they couldn't make any excuses for.
"No, it's precisely because we were on the losing side that it was such a valuable experience."
However, Ferdinand, the leader of the first-year Military Faction, placed a lot of value on that defeat.
"I honestly thought we could win. I'm sure you all felt the same way."
"Hmm... Yeah, I really thought we had it. I mean it."
Ferdinand had estimated their chances were just a bit over fifty percent. But to be honest, if you looked at it coldly, the Alliance Army's odds were well above seventy percent at the time. It wasn't just that Marie was exhausted. The conditions on the battlefield made it difficult to use their weapons to full effect. The Imperial Army cadets had already fought twice as part of the Alliance Army and were completely worn out. And on top of that, the Alliance Army had more than twice their numbers.
To be clear, the side that was supposed to win that battle wasn't the Imperial Army—it should've been the Alliance Army. Appearances can be deceiving. Ernest didn't barely scrape out a win in a battle he was supposed to win; he managed to triumph in a fight he was supposed to lose.
"It's not over until it's over. We prepared so much and were on the verge of victory, but in the end, we lost horribly without even being able to put up a proper fight."
Ferdinand clenched his fist, his hand shockingly large and rugged for a fourteen-year-old boy. Blood soaked through the bandage, staining it red from the wounds torn open by the splinters of his broken wooden crossbow.
"That wasn't made possible by the Power of the Baltracher, was it?"
"...No, you're right. And it wasn't our strength, either."
When Ferdinand looked at them with those intense, fiery eyes and asked, the cadets from the Military Faction who had been in Ernest's platoon nodded heavily in agreement.
"Krieger was truly terrifying back then. I always knew a commander was important, but to actually experience it in the field is on a whole different level. Honestly… At that moment, it felt like I was really fighting life or death under Krieger's command. I was scared. I was desperate."
Other Military Faction cadets who'd shared the experience nodded along at those words. For them, that moment would remain their first real taste of battle as soldiers—even if it had just been a mock battle training with wooden bolts.
"We've gained something valuable. Share what you've learned with us, will you?"
Ferdinand looked at them seriously as he made his request.
"...Alright. As much as you want, Hartmann."
At those words, the Military Faction cadets from Ernest's platoon nodded in agreement.
In truth, they had been a bit disappointed in Ferdinand. Not because of anything specific, but simply because he had ignored them when the platoons were first formed.
But as time passed, they came to understand Ferdinand. Compared to the other cadets, their skills really had been lacking. Even so, the only reason they'd managed to achieve victories so far was thanks to Ernest.
Still, Ferdinand's bold and generous personality was something they couldn't possibly turn away from, no matter how young he was.
"But don't forget this, Hartmann. We may help each other, but we're competitors too."
After all the great experiences they'd had as part of Ernest's platoon, these boys no longer followed Ferdinand as their leader without question like they once did.
"You're just stating the obvious."
Instead of bristling at those words, Ferdinand just grinned widely.
The Military Faction cadets spent their free time in heated debate, so absorbed they lost track of time.
"..."
Wilfried sat alone in an empty room set aside for the officer cadets, silently glaring at the rain pouring down from the dark evening sky. Wilfried had once spent every moment of free time expanding his influence, always surrounded by other cadets, but lately, he found himself often sitting alone, lost in thought.
Whenever he sat by himself in this dark room without even a single candle lit, Wilfried could almost convince himself that he was truly free. For someone like Wilfried, who had lived his whole life under the gaze of countless others since the moment he was born, this small taste of liberation was like a drug.
"Even after all this... is it still impossible to surpass him...?"
Wilfried muttered quietly to himself. He had tried to bring down Marie so that Ernest would never even get a chance, but his plan had failed spectacularly. Not only had he failed, but Ernest had used adversity to shine even brighter. It was a total defeat.
"Ernest Krieger..."
Wilfried was overcome with a dreadful feeling. It felt as if the weight of defeat was dragging down his arms and legs. Even though he knew it was all just meaningless self-loathing, Wilfried couldn't shake the sense of failure.
He felt something was wrong—so wrong he thought he could almost trace its shape with his fingertips. If he followed it back, its origin was something utterly trivial.
That time he first spoke with Ernest. If only he had responded to Ernest's words with a softer touch back then, none of this would have happened.
Wilfried Ravid could have become friends with Ernest Krieger.
But because of a scrap of pride, Wilfried had pushed Ernest away.
Even now, if Wilfried reached out his hand, Ernest would take it. However, Wilfried couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't even fully understand why.
"...In the end, he's just another step I have to climb over."
Wilfried spoke harshly to himself, trying to suppress his own weakness. He didn't have the luxury of making friends. All that was permitted for Wilfried was achieving good grades and securing a favorable assignment after graduation. Even interacting with the other cadets was merely a means to that end.
If he didn't do that—if he was deemed worthless—Wilfried might even lose the only thing his esteemed father had ever given him: the name Ravid. Perhaps his older brother, Adalbert, would be the one to take it from him.
"..."
Listening to the dull sound of rain beyond the window, Wilfried pulled his legs up onto his chair and hugged his knees. Waves of unfamiliar loneliness and sorrow crashed over him, eating away at the frozen heart of the young boy.
Wilfried only moved again, lifting his face from his knees, when free time for the evening was nearly over. Wilfried Ravid ended the day with the same gentle smile he always wore.
***
Marie soon realized that the day of rest she'd been given wasn't some privilege or reward. It was simply the customary break granted to any Baltracher cadet who had collapsed after reaching their limit during a mock battle in a downpour—a punishment or training from that wretched Captain Thomas Kohler, she couldn't even tell the difference.
Still, after taking a full day off and even getting a word of encouragement from Ernest, Marie felt great, even though the exhaustion hadn't completely left her body. Her face was still twisted into its usual fierce scowl, though.
"Today, we have Mental Fortitude Training scheduled,"
However, the moment they assembled for morning training and heard the words of Special Training Division Instructor, Captain Max Grimm, Marie's face contorted harshly—but this time, for an entirely different reason.
Max called out the names of the cadets who would undergo Mental Fortitude Training. Every name he listed belonged to a cadet with the surname Fiders.
Naturally, Marie assumed her name would be called as well. After all, Instructor Max Grimm firmly believed that the Aeblon people—considered low-born from birth—should receive Mental Fortitude Training without exception, if only to break them of their ingrained habits.
"That's all."
"..."
Yet, to everyone's surprise, Marie was not included on the list of cadets who would undergo Mental Fortitude Training. It was a shock not just to Marie, but also to all the other Baltracher cadets.
After all, this was a special privilege, reserved only for cadets of imperial noble birth or Baltracher cadets who were so highly trained they could be sent into active duty at a moment's notice.
The other Fiders cadets scheduled for Mental Fortitude Training stared at Marie—some hotly, some coldly, and some with piercing intensity. Their gazes were filled with burning envy and jealousy.
"Marie Fiders."
"Yes!"
When Max called her name, Marie quickly snapped out of her confusion and answered at once.
"I'm going to personally witness your impressive performance with my own eyes."
Max's eyes bore down on Marie, as cold as ice.
"Prove it."
"Yes!"
Marie shouted back in her small but powerful voice.
Impressive achievement. Prove it.
Marie realized she had been given an incredible opportunity, one far beyond anything she could have imagined. She was absolutely convinced this was thanks to Ernest—that it was his encouragement that had landed her this chance.
So Marie believed she could do it. After all, last night, Ernest had told her to stay strong.
"Hnn... Hnnnn..."
Even as she heard the terrified sobbing and trembling voices of the other Fiders who had been condemned to undergo the so-called "Mental Fortitude Training"—little more than torture—Marie didn't spare them a single glance. After all, when Marie had struggled to keep up with training because she was lagging behind in her growth, those same people had ignored her.
Even if they were all Fiders, to her, they were just others. And anyway, the Imperial Military Academy was no place for mere commoners to band together and overcome anything through unity.
The feelings Fiders had toward each other could be politely called rivalry. To be honest, they envied and resented anyone better than themselves. Those who were less capable, they despised and looked down on—or ignored completely. That was it. There wasn't a trace of camaraderie.
Clang!
Dragged deep into the basement of the annex for Mental Fortitude Training, nobody spared a backward glance at those being herded in through the thick iron doors.
"Marie Fiders, you're up first."
"Yes, sir!"
Max still harbored doubts about Marie's abilities, and he didn't want to let those doubts linger in his heart any longer.
Marie stepped into a room lined with heavy steel and stood alone in the center.
Click.
The sound of a bullet rolling into the chamber of the Balt Gun.
The latest model of the Balt Gun, which could pierce clean through even reinforced steel armor if it hit, was now aimed at the thigh of a thirteen-year-old girl.
If her defense failed, this wouldn't end with just a sharp pain.
"I'm ready."
Even before Max could ask, Marie answered, her face twisted with fierce determination as she stared down the barrel of the gun—and stared past it into Max's indifferent eyes.
Just a few days ago, the sound of a round being loaded into a Balt Gun would have terrified Marie, leaving her trembling in fear. But now, she had neither reason nor need to be afraid.
Marie Fiders' Balt Shield would absolutely block the attack. Because Marie Fiders had heard the words "Stay strong" from Ernest Krieger. Because she was going to push past her limits and show her strength.
...
Seeing this, Max, uncharacteristically, allowed himself the faintest, cold smile.
He fired at Marie a total of nine times, and not a single bullet touched her. Then, without hesitation, Max aimed the gun at Marie's head and pulled the trigger. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Marie blocked the shot.
At her feet lay ten fully deformed, flattened bullets—the clear evidence of her perfect defense.
"Excellent. Truly impressive, Marie Fiders."
Max offered genuine, unreserved praise to the Aeblon girl. In fact, from the moment Marie defended against the very first shot, Max had realized that single shots wouldn't work on her. Marie now possessed unwavering confidence, and that confidence had rebuilt her young, inexperienced mind into something astonishingly resilient.
For a Baltracher, mental fortitude is everything. Even the Mental Fortitude Training—which cadets fear above all else—has real benefits, and that's why it's done. It was notoriously difficult to cultivate this unwavering mind in the Fiders, who'd spent their lives scraping by at the bottom, so the training was designed to strip away even their fear through the harshest methods.
And yet, despite being an Aeblon girl weighed down by humiliation and defeat, Marie had managed, almost overnight, to achieve such remarkable growth.
"If only she weren't Aeblon," Max thought, with genuine regret.
For Max, a zealous nationalist, this kind of thought was highly unusual. That alone proved just how rare such psychological growth was.
"If you keep this up, you'll be able to serve your Empire and His Majesty the Emperor as a proud Baltracher, fulfilling your duties with excellence."
"Yes, Instructor!"
Amazingly, Max hadn't said, "Work harder," but instead, "Keep doing just as you are."
At those astonishing words, Marie answered energetically, while the other cadets watching frowned in displeasure.
Most of the cadets here came from the noble families of the Empire. The rest were Fiders, who had endured harsh torture to make it this far.
For the nobles, it was utterly distasteful that Marie—a lowborn member of the Aeblon people—had earned Max's recognition. As for the Fiders, the thought that thirteen-year-old Marie might soon be exempted from future Mental Fortitude Training drove them to the brink of frustration and envy.
Marie, however, paid no mind to their hostile stares. When it was the turn of the next cadet, a noble boy, Marie's face twisted as she watched him stand before the gun. The muzzle wasn't aimed at his body, but off to the side, into empty air. Previously, seeing that had made her jealous—envious, even. But now, she no longer needed to feel that way.
Bang!
As the gunshot rang out and she watched the bullet veer off sideways in front of the boy, a look of scorn twisted Marie's face. The freckles across the bridge of her pale nose seemed to mock the boy, who couldn't even block a single bullet.
That's right—Marie had proven herself. She'd even earned the recognition of Captain Max Grimm, the committed nationalist. Marie realized now that if you have the skill, nothing else matters. All you have to do is prove yourself. That she was strong.
And to keep that strength, Marie absolutely needed Ernest's encouragement.
She needed him to tell her to hang in there.
Marie suddenly couldn't wait to see Ernest.