Chapter 7 - A True Warrior (6)
After finishing cleaning their room, Ernest and Robert went straight to see the Disciplinary Officer.
This was possible since it was free time after dinner.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Disciplinary Officer, Cadets Ernest Krieger and Robert Jimman."
After knocking, Ernest spoke, and a faint rustling sound came from inside.
"Come in."
When given permission, Ernest opened the door and stepped inside.
His eyes briefly scanned the cadet dormitory rooms, confirming that besides the on-duty Disciplinary Officer, there was also a Disciplinary Instructor present.
Seeing this, Ernest slightly narrowed his eyes, which at a glance almost looked like a smirk.
Snap!
Ernest approached the Disciplinary Officer and saluted, with Robert following suit.
The officer returned the salute half-heartedly.
"What's the matter? Krieger, Jimman."
The Disciplinary Officer asked with an indifferent expression. In fact, he already had a pretty good idea why Ernest and Robert had come to see him.
The Disciplinary Officer couldn't possibly be unaware that Robert Jimman was on the verge of expulsion due to incurring an enormous number of penalty points from being bullied by senior cadets. That was one of the traditions at the Imperial Military Academy, and ignoring freshmen who came every year to protest unfair treatment was also part of the Disciplinary Officer's routine.
He didn't even need to hear what Ernest and Robert planned to say. They would probably end up whining about being bullied by upperclassmen.
"The Imperial Military Academy's security has been breached, and it's under attack. We must respond immediately."
"...What did you say?"
However, what Ernest said was not the kind of whining one would expect from spoiled kids.
"What on earth are you talking about, Krieger?"
The Disciplinary Officer furrowed his brow in disbelief and asked Ernest again. Ernest, with a serious expression, spoke confidently.
"The Imperial Military Academy in Grimman, the capital of the Empire, which trains the Empire's finest officers under the orders of His Majesty the Emperor, is currently under attack by the enemy."
"...Hah..."
The Disciplinary Officer rubbed his forehead tiredly at Ernest's words and let out a long sigh.
"Disciplinary Officer, this is an issue we must not ignore under any circumstances."
Ernest spoke firmly to the officer.
"The Imperial Military Academy is the Empire's premier institution for training officers. For such an institution to be desecrated under enemy attack must surely be the work of a rebel force or an allied army afraid of the capable officers the Imperial Army produces."
"Stop, stop."
The Disciplinary Officer cut off Ernest's passionate speech. He was quite confused at the moment because he couldn't tell whether Ernest was just spouting some convincing excuse to stop the upperclassmen's bullying or if he genuinely believed the academy was under enemy attack.
Ernest's eyes burned with firm determination as he seriously warned of the enemy threat.
Rubbing his eyebrows, the Disciplinary Officer thought for a moment and recalled that, despite appearing distracted, this hereditary noble with a military family background was actually quite sharp.
With a hand waved irritably, he said, "Krieger, and Jimman. Don't waste any more of my time with this nonsense."
"But the enemy is right now—"
"Enough. Krieger, if you spout that nonsense one more time, I'll give you penalty points."
After speaking sternly to Ernest, the Disciplinary Officer closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to contain his annoyance, and remained silent for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he spoke again to Ernest.
"Krieger, Jimman. This isn't a place to babysit toddlers just learning to walk. Take care of yourself."
The moment he said that, Ernest's face shifted into an ambiguous expression.
His lips moved slowly.
"Does that mean we are allowed to handle this matter based on our own judgment?"
Ernest asked in a surprisingly calm voice.
The Disciplinary Officer narrowed his eyes and appraised Ernest from head to toe. Honestly, he was genuinely confused. Could it be that this boy from a military family had really been quietly enduring the senior cadets' bullying all this time without any orders from his superiors?
"Alright, then. Take care of yourself from now on."
With that, the Disciplinary Officer roughly gave his permission.
He didn't want to waste any more time on this annual ordeal.
"Understood, sir."
Click!
"Good, good."
Ernest saluted, and Robert, glancing around nervously, followed suit with a salute. The Disciplinary Officer waved his hand impatiently, signaling them to leave quickly, then turned off his attention from the two.
Once outside the Cadet Dormitory Room, Ernest returned to his room with a calm expression.
"So, what now?"
"We'll start tomorrow morning. Until then, rest easy."
"Even if you say rest easy, I don't think I can relax... Well, no matter what, my fate is out of my hands now."
Robert sighed deeply, shrugged his shoulders, accepted reality, and finally began to truly relax.
Ernest sat down at his desk and resumed studying as usual. Ernest was still only going through basic drill training and hadn't started any classes yet. He read a book, tidied his desk, read again, paced the room deep in thought, read some more, then stood in front of the door, glancing around restlessly.
Robert had already grown used to Ernest's scattered behavior, so he didn't say anything about it.
"I told you to rest, and you actually are. Not going to study at all?"
Ernest asked Robert, who was lying on the bed staring blankly at the ceiling after having been reading earlier.
"How am I supposed to focus on books when I might get expelled tomorrow?"
Robert replied gruffly but slowly sat up at his desk anyway. He knew exactly what Ernest would say next even before he said it.
"You might not get expelled."
"Damn it. I knew you'd say that. Yeah, maybe I won't get expelled. Thanks to you, actually. Got it? Ernest. Got it! Please, I'm begging you—just save me!"
"I'll try."
"Don't say you'll try, just save me!"
"I'm saying I'll try."
"I want to go home so badly."
"You want to get expelled?"
"No!"
Ernest chuckled quietly. Robert shot him a glare and grumbled before returning to his book.
Anyway, Robert had no choice but to trust Ernest. So he might as well believe him.
***
"Those guys?"
"Yeah."
"How dare those arrogant brats..."
"They're just idiots. Talking big like that right in front of me."
The disciplinary instructors, upon hearing this unpleasant news, decided they couldn't let those arrogant freshmen get away with it. It was bad enough that they had been stubbornly defiant until now, but now they had gone and tattled to the Disciplinary Officer.
Absolutely unforgivable.
"Jimman's got two penalty points until expulsion. End it right away tomorrow."
"What about Krieger?"
"That guy is even more of a problem."
"What can a lowly commoner do anyway? It all must've come from that guy's head anyway."
They didn't even consider Robert a noble. To them, he was just a wealthy commoner. So naturally, they thought all of this was the work of Ernest—and that judgment wasn't wrong.
"It seems Hartmann had been keeping an eye on him," one disciplinary instructor said somewhat uneasily. No matter how much of a senior he was, no one could treat Brigadier General Hartmann's eldest grandson carelessly.
"There's been no sign of movement so far. Krieger's alone. Just finish it off. Well, if he ends up skulking around somewhere, then we can deal with it then."
However, those who had decided to punish the presumptuous, spineless newcomers—unable to endure the Imperial Military Academy's light initiation rites and who had tattled to the disciplinary officers—had no intention of letting Ernest off the hook.
Robert was just two penalty points away from expulsion. To ensure he was expelled tomorrow, they had to strike when he couldn't respond—turning his room upside down while he was away and giving him two penalty points for poor tidiness.
The most reliable times were when he was away for morning and afternoon drills. But since unforeseen circumstances might arise, they decided to seize any opportunity to end it decisively.
So first, they planned to strike when the cadets gathered for breakfast, then again during morning training, to expel Robert Jimman immediately the next day.
After finishing breakfast and returning to their room, Ernest and Robert were met with a complete mess. Not only Robert's things but also Ernest's belongings were thrown into disarray.
"The state of this room is terrible. Krieger, Jimman, both of you get penalty points. Jimman, just one more penalty point and you're expelled."
From beyond the open door, an upperclassman smirked as he handed out the penalty points and then quickly left.
"Good. Things are going according to plan."
"Ugh..."
Ernest was satisfied that everything was unfolding as planned, while Robert, who had been briefed on the plan that morning, didn't panic but wore a slightly anxious look, keeping a low profile.
The two of them tidied the room together to prepare for the next phase of the plan.
"Krieger."
Because the door wasn't closed, other freshmen could see them cleaning up.
Ferdinand, Brigadier General Hartmann's eldest grandson, had no intention of watching this disgraceful act any longer.
"You seem to need something."
Ferdinand spoke quietly.
If he wished, he could easily put a stop to this dark, unpleasant, and hateful behavior. In fact, Ferdinand didn't want to resolve the issue by using his grandfather's authority. Heinz Hartmann, Ferdinand's grandfather and Brigadier General, would feel the same way.
But for this kind of matter, Ferdinand thought it would be perfectly acceptable to borrow his grandfather's name, and he was sure Heinz would gladly lend it.
"No, I already have everything I need."
However, Ernest gently smiled and declined Ferdinand's offer.
"..."
Ferdinand narrowed his sharp eyes and looked at Ernest, then slowly nodded.
"If you say so, then it must be true."
After saying that, Ferdinand closed the door and strode off to his room.
"...I feel like he's really putting you on a pedestal."
Robert whispered quietly to Ernest for no particular reason.
Ferdinand showed no sign of acknowledging Robert but displayed great trust toward Ernest. Robert couldn't understand what exactly the Brigadier General's eldest grandson saw in Ernest to regard him so highly.
"That's not what matters right now. We can't afford any mistakes."
"Got it. I got it."
Robert groaned in annoyance but nodded at Ernest's serious warning. He had already been cautioned several times.
Ernest had everything he needed. What he required now was just a small helping hand—and that was Robert's responsibility. Ernest would check everything meticulously, but if Robert made even a single major mistake, the entire plan could fall apart.
"There's no time. Let's hurry."
"Alright. Let's settle the score with them."
Ernest and Robert exchanged smiles. It was only after hearing Ernest's plan that Robert finally understood why Ernest had been so cheerful. At that moment, Robert felt quite happy—probably the happiest he had ever been in his life.
The cadets gathered for morning training were chatting in small groups, their faces a mix of nervousness and anticipation. They were now seated at desks in the lecture hall. Finally, they would be receiving proper instruction beyond just drill exercises.
"Hartmann."
Ferdinand turned away from his fixed gaze on Ernest when another cadet quietly approached and called his name. The cadet leaned in and whispered something softly into Ferdinand's ear.
"...Impressive."
Ferdinand nodded gravely.
Then he pressed his lips tightly shut.
His voice cracked on the brink of a change from puberty but caught itself before rising.
While Ferdinand was quietly pleased by the intriguing information he had just heard, there was another boy who had heard the same story but reacted differently.
"Wilfried."
Wilfried, the fourth son of Duke Ravid, turned toward the cadet who had called him. His beautiful blue eyes blinked once.
"About Krieger."
"Was there some interesting story?"
Wilfried smiled at that and asked.
It was a mature and charming smile that you wouldn't expect from a fourteen-year-old boy, yet there was still a hint of impatience somewhere in it.
"The family itself is nothing special... No, there was nothing remarkable."
The cadet whispered in a low voice, correcting himself as he recalled Wilfried's warning. Wilfried realized he felt a little disappointed at that, but he didn't show it.
"The family itself... Then what about something else?"
At Wilfried's question, the cadet lowered his voice again and whispered,
"Krieger's father, Haires Krieger. He received the Noble Heart Medal. And he's still alive."
"...Noble Heart."
Wilfried was silent for a moment, then repeated the words to himself.
After turning the phrase around in his mouth a few times, he grasped its meaning and narrowed his eyes, sharply turning his head to glare at Ernest.
The Noble Heart Medal is the highest honor a soldier of the Empire can receive. Almost no soldier who was awarded the Noble Heart Medal ever lived long enough to wear it on their chest. Among the medals bestowed for sacrifice in service to the Empire, the Noble Heart Medal is considered the supreme distinction.
In other words, it is practically a medal established to commemorate the deaths of high nobles such as counts or dukes, or truly heroic soldiers who died sacrificing themselves. Receiving it while still alive means that one has devoted themselves so greatly to the Empire and achieved such historic merit.
Haires Krieger was awarded the Noble Heart Medal 14 years ago, after the Mihahil Empire's conquest war had ended and after he had retired. This means that Haires Krieger had already retired as a colonel before receiving the medal, yet the great Emperor of the Empire exceptionally awarded him the Noble Heart Medal.
If Haires had not retired back then, by now he might have been adorned with the Noble Heart Medal on his chest and gleaming gold insignia on his shoulders. Had he died in battle during that time, he would have been posthumously promoted to major general, as the award came with a two-rank promotion for a deceased recipient.
When this astonishing news began to ripple like a wave among the cadets, the classroom door suddenly slammed open with a crash.
Bang!
"Ernest Krieger! Robert Jimman!"
The Disciplinary Officer strode in, shouting the two boys' names.
"Yes, Disciplinary Officer."
"Yes."
Ernest calmly stood up as if he had been expecting it, while Robert looked a little frightened but also stood firmly. The Disciplinary Officer glared sternly at the two boys, his face swirling with barely contained anger.
"Get them out!"
"Yes!"
At the Disciplinary Officer's sharp command, the Disciplinary Instructors burst into the lecture hall, their faces pale but filled with simmering anger. The freshmen murmured nervously at the sight of the black clubs wielded by the upperclassmen, but when they noticed the Balt pistols in the Disciplinary Officer's hands, they fell completely silent.
Ernest and Robert didn't resist; they raised their hands and waited.
"You little bastard!"
Thwack!
However, one of the Disciplinary Instructors, so caught up in anger, swung his club and struck Ernest's shoulder. The club, made of extremely dense wood painted black, was much heavier than it looked and strong enough to break a young boy's bones.
Yet, at the moment the club hit him, Ernest barely blinked. He subtly twisted his body and absorbed the blow with his muscles, not even uttering a groan.
"Gasp!"
Instead of Ernest, the Disciplinary Instructor who swung the club stumbled and fell. Ernest wobbled, but still stood firmly on both legs. No one else could understand why the Disciplinary Instructor had fallen, but Robert, standing beside Ernest, clearly saw what had happened.
Feigning a stagger from absorbing the hit on his shoulder, Ernest reached out at an angle unseen by others and grabbed the sleeve of the Disciplinary Instructor. Then, with a light push to the side, he toppled over the instructor who had nearly lunged at him.
Crash!
"Ahh!"
The upperclassman collided with a desk as he fell, turning the lecture hall into chaos in an instant.
"You, you little bastard!"
"Enough."
Just as the fallen Disciplinary Instructor sprang up, his face flushed red, ready to charge at Ernest, another voice rang out through the chaotic lecture hall.
The upperclassmen, who had been about to beat Ernest and Robert to a bloody pulp, immediately froze.
"P-Principle Director."
The Disciplinary Officer glanced over at Brigadier General Kramer Schaefer with a pale, frightened face. Kramer strode purposefully into the lecture hall. The Disciplinary Officer quickly stepped aside and saluted him, but Kramer neither returned the salute nor even glanced his way.
Kramer's heavy, deep blue eyes slowly scanned the wreckage of the lecture hall. Everyone avoided meeting his gaze, unable to even breathe.
"Quite the stunt."
"..."
"Did you report this to the Cadet Commander before taking action?"
"W-Well, that is...!"
"At the very least, I received no report about this matter."
Kramer muttered in an eerily flat and monotone voice. The Disciplinary Officer trembled so badly he couldn't form a proper response.
Kramer raised his left hand, pushing his hair back with his thumb as if tidying it. But his hair was already slicked down smoothly without a single strand out of place, showing not a hint of disorder.
Though his face appeared emotionless, Kramer clearly expressed anger over what had happened.
No matter what mistakes the cadets had made in their daily conduct—even if it warranted drawing weapons—the room they occupied was a lecture hall for cadet education. Under no circumstances could they act without the Faculty Division's permission.
"Report."
"Report!"
At Kramer's low, heavy voice, the Disciplinary Officer's face turned pale as he anxiously repeated the report with firm clarity.
Trembling, he explained to Brigadier General Kramer Schaefer, the head of the Faculty Division, why he had come here even armed with a gun.
Everyone who heard this astonishing story looked blankly around and then glanced back at Ernest and Robert.
Robert was nearly out of breath, turning pale at the very sight of the head of the Faculty Division himself stepping in.
"..."
Yet Ernest remained calm, hands raised, patiently waiting to be arrested.
After hearing everything, Kramer quietly stared into the deep black eyes of this young boy, as if sensing something hidden within him that he couldn't quite grasp.
Kramer knew well that this was not the kind of thing someone clumsy like Robert could have done.
He asked Ernest, who dared look him straight in the eyes, his voice serious.
"Why did you do such a thing?"
Kramer's stern voice sounded like that of a judge delivering a verdict.
Ernest answered calmly to Brigadier General Kramer Schaefer, head of the Faculty Division.
"Because I judged that failing to respond even after recognizing an attack, no matter how minor, would put everyone in danger. This was simply a response to an act of rebellion."
"Rebellion."
At Ernest's startling words, Kramer muttered the chilling word quietly to himself.
Then Kramer spoke to Ernest again.
"You do not have the authority to pass judgment. Cadet."
Whatever the principles behind Ernest's actions, he was still just a cadet who had only recently enrolled.
He had no authority whatsoever.
Ernest knew this well, of course.
That's why he must have prepared an escape route for himself, right?
The one trembling in fear after hearing Kramer's words was not Ernest but the Disciplinary Officer.
"I reported to the Disciplinary Officer and was ordered to make my own judgment and act accordingly, so I decided and acted on my own."
"······."
Kramer quietly stared into Ernest's eyes.
Ernest met his gaze resolutely.
But as the silence dragged on, Ernest couldn't endure Kramer's silent pressure any longer and let out a short breath, finally looking away.
In the chilling silence, Kramer spoke.
"Take him away."
"Yes, sir!"
To avoid further conflict with the Cadet Corps for now, Kramer handed Ernest and Robert over to them.
However, this matter would not be easily resolved—no matter which side.
At Kramer's order, the Disciplinary Instructors tensed up, tightly grabbing Ernest's and Robert's arms as they hurriedly exited the lecture hall.
Kramer's eyes fiercely followed Ernest as he was arrested and dragged away.
An incident that would go down in the history of the Imperial Military Academy had occurred.
Ernest Krieger and Robert Jimman were arrested on suspicion of attempted murder within the Imperial Military Academy.