Chapter 60 - Covered in Ashes (4)
"Hey, why are you the one eating that?"
"You just gave it to me."
"Damn it."
Ernest and Robert ate their meal while hiding behind the pillar where Marie had concealed herself. To be precise, only Ernest and Marie were actually eating. After Ernest handed his bowl to Marie, he took Robert's bowl as well, since Robert seemed completely out of it.
Marie, whose small frame matched her tiny mouth, pecked at her food bit by bit, while Ernest finished his bowl quickly and immediately shifted into preparing for their next move.
With just their eyes peeking out from behind the pillar, the two boys surveyed their surroundings.
"Now's our chance."
"Alright."
"Move carefully."
"Don't worry about it."
Following Ernest's cue, the two boys crossed the banquet hall at a casual pace, but quickly enough to get by. Ernest used his restless eyes to gauge the movements of the people around the food tables, waiting for just the right moment, and the plan went off without a hitch.
"Retreat. Retreat."
"A perfect tactical victory! And to top it off, such satisfying spoils from our raid!"
Moving nimbly to grab more food and then ducking back behind the pillar, the two boys ate their meal in high spirits. Marie chewed quietly with her small mouth, looking at the people in the banquet hall and their clothes, then at Ernest and Robert, and then back at the hall again.
"It's such a waste to throw away delicious food like this without eating it."
"You're right, you're right. That's why we have to enjoy it on their behalf."
"It would've been even better if we could've eaten it while it was still warm."
"Exactly. Oh, do you think they'll set out a fresh batch?"
"They did bring out new food partway through last time. I'm sure they'll do it again this time."
"Should we slow down and save some room until then?"
"Yeah, let's save our strength and strike at the perfect moment."
"That's the strategic thinking I'd expect from the legendary Teacher Ernest, who shattered the Military Science records. Really, it's impressive, you know?"
Despite what they said, Ernest, being a growing boy, ate a whopping four bowls, and Robert had three. Still, thanks to reading the banquet hall's mood, both boys managed to blend in so well it was as if they weren't even there, quietly enjoying their time.
"I'm going to go now."
As the two boys finished their hearty meal and paused to prepare for what came next, Marie—having finally emptied just her first bowl—murmured in a tiny voice. Unsure what to do with her empty bowl, she hesitated until Ernest held out his hand, and she passed it over to him carefully.
"Already? You've only just arrived, though?"
When Robert asked, Marie shook her head softly.
"I've had enough now."
"Alright. Take care, Marie. Hang in there."
"Yeah. You too, Ernest... and you as well, Robert."
Marie gave a quiet farewell, not only to Ernest but also to Robert, then kept close to the wall as she slipped quietly toward the door and quickly left the banquet hall.
Some people had already noticed Marie's presence.
They didn't say anything out loud since she was wearing a cadet uniform, but Ernest could clearly read the contempt and scorn in their eyes.
Marie was just as used to those kinds of looks.
She had seen enough clothes for now. It wasn't satisfying, but rather than staying longer and getting caught up in unnecessary trouble, it was better to make a clean escape.
"So here you are."
"Ferdinand."
Only after Marie had left, at almost suspiciously perfect timing, Ferdinand approached.
It was likely he had been waiting for just this moment.
While Ferdinand didn't discriminate against Aeblon people, he was politically shrewd enough to consider Hartmann's position in his actions.
"I wanted to introduce you both to my father. Do you mind stepping out for a moment?"
Ferdinand spoke with the same formality as when they'd first met. Though military academy life had changed him, this was his true nature.
"Why wouldn't it be okay?"
"Yeah, it's your father after all."
Robert replied immediately, and Ernest answered next. At their responses, Ferdinand gave a small nod. Still, because hardly anyone could meet the eldest grandson of the 2nd Corps Chief of Staff so casually and confidently, Ferdinand was feeling a bit odd about the whole thing.
Neither Ernest nor Robert cared about Ferdinand's background. Eldest grandson of the Chief of Staff? So what? This is Ernest, who boldly declared he'd put Wilfried, the Duke's son, in his place, and Robert, who joked about calling Wilfried 'Young Master' right to his face.
Ferdinand led the two across the banquet hall, heading straight for the opposite corner.
"Father."
"Oh, Ferdie. You got here quickly"
In a dim corner of the banquet hall, a pale-faced man was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.
At Ferdinand's call, he opened his eyes and spoke with a gentle smile.
Stepping away from the wall, he walked over and affectionately put an arm around Ferdinand's shoulder, then looked at Ernest and Robert.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Ferdie. My name is Mark Hartmann."
Ernest and Robert were a bit caught off guard.
They had expected Ferdinand's father to be a big, imposing man.
But contrary to their assumptions, Ferdinand's father, Mark, wasn't particularly tall, was slender, and had fair, delicate skin, giving him a gentle, almost fragile appearance.
Even knowing he was Ferdinand's father, it was hard to believe he was even thirty years old—at first glance, he looked like he'd just turned twenty.
Perhaps his clean shave made him look even younger. If Ferdinand had introduced him as his older brother, anyone would have simply nodded and believed it without question—even those who knew that Ferdinand was the eldest grandson of Heinz Hartmann.
"I'm Ernest Krieger."
Putting aside his surprise, Ernest introduced himself first. Thinking about it, since Ernest and Robert were the juniors here, they should have spoken up first, but Mark seemed genuinely pleased to meet the son of a friend and, setting formality aside, introduced himself before them.
"Yes, Krieger. I hear you're the top First Year student? That's truly impressive."
"...Thank you."
Mark extended his hand to Ernest, and when Ernest took it, they shook hands. Mark praised him warmly, looking genuinely delighted. Ernest had never expected Ferdinand's father—whose own son placed second—to offer such heartfelt praise.
"Robert Jimman."
Robert also introduced himself. Mark had already extended his hand, and as Robert shook it, Mark smiled kindly and said,
"Jimman, you're a bit more reserved than I'd heard. Ferdie said you were pretty easygoing. There's no need to be nervous—just make yourself comfortable."
"Yes…"
Is this really Ferdinand's father?
The thought crossed their minds involuntarily, because Mark was so gentle, warm, and unassuming, the complete opposite of what they had imagined.
He didn't stand on ceremony at all.
Now that they saw them together, even though Ferdinand was only fourteen, he was nearly as tall as Mark, and his shoulders were broader. The handshake was disconcerting because of Mark's soft hands.
Before hearing his name, no one would have guessed that he was a lieutenant colonel and a staff officer for the 2nd Corps.
Even as Heinz's eldest son, you couldn't become a corps staff officer without real ability. Despite appearances, Mark was a capable soldier, widely recognized as a worthy son of Hartmann.
"So, what did you say to your father, Ferdie?"
"…Jimman, don't ever talk like that again."
"Why not, Ferdie? We're friends, aren't we, Ferdie? Right, Ferdie?"
"Yeah, Ferdie. From now on, I'll just call you Ferdie. That's okay, right, Ferdie?"
"You…!"
"Hahahaha!"
Robert kept repeating Ferdinand's nickname in a tone as if talking to a baby.
When Ernest joined in, also calling him by the nickname, Mark burst out laughing.
Leaning comfortably on his overly sturdy son's shoulder, Mark struggled to stifle his laughter, then said in a warm, gentle voice,
"That's right, Ferdie. What's the big deal? You're all friends."
"Father..."
"I'm glad you've found friends you can talk to comfortably, too."
"..."
Mark gave his son's shoulder a few hearty pats, then turned to Ernest and Robert with a warm smile.
"Please keep being good friends with Ferdie. I was worried he was becoming too stiff—just like his grandfather. But with friends like you two, I can be at ease."
Mark truly seemed relieved.
As the eldest son of Brigadier General Heinz Hartmann, Mark was very aware of the pressures that faced Ferdinand, Heinz's eldest grandson.
It must feel like he's about to collapse under the weight.
Mark knew that feeling well—he had experienced it himself. But, just as he once had, Ferdinand couldn't afford to actually collapse; he simply had to press on, quietly and persistently.
Second place at the Imperial Military Academy.
For most, that would already be worth an ovation. I
n fact, Ferdinand's grades were so exceptional, it was almost strange he wasn't the top student.
Yet, from now on, Ferdinand would endlessly hear comments like, "You're Brigadier General Heinz Hartmann's grandson, and you only placed second?"
Of course, Ferdinand really did take after his grandfather Heinz. Even when he heard things like that, he would sincerely reply, "My grandfather and I are not the same person. Don't misunderstand." The thought that his overly dependable son could share jokes and banter like any ordinary boy—Mark felt truly happy.
"If you ever get the chance, you're welcome to visit Hartmann anytime. We never turn guests away—especially when that guest is a friend of my son."
"Yes, I understand."
"We can't have our little, adorable Ferdie feeling lonely, after all."
"Jimman!"
"Hahaha!"
Unlike Ernest, who answered in a composed manner, Robert—with his uncanny sense—didn't miss the chance to both cheer Mark up even more and tease Ferdinand at the same time.
Ferdinand shot Robert a fiery glare, furious, making Mark burst out laughing again.
The pallor on Mark's face, which had been so noticeable before, started to fade as color gradually returned.
With his energy returning, Mark looked so lively that one might really mistake him for a fourth-year officer cadet, rather than a section chief—perhaps just thinking, "He looks a bit mature for a cadet."
And considering that Ferdinand, even if he jumped to fourth year right now, would only draw comments like, "He looks a bit young for his class," it was all the more impressive.
"Ah, really... Haa... I wish we could just keep sitting here like this."
"Father. You've been hiding out here for far too long already."
"Phew... Alright, alright…"
Grumbling at his son's tactful remark, Mark then turned to Ernest and Robert with a smile.
"If nothing comes up, it looks like I'll get to see you both again next summer. Next year's second-year officer cadet field training at the Military Academy is scheduled with our 2nd Corps."
"Father, isn't that classified information?"
"Oh, what does it matter? Anyone who ought to know is already aware. Still, don't go around saying you heard it from me."
"Yes, yes…"
The training schedule for the Imperial Military Academy—especially all outside activities—is supposed to be confidential. After all, young officer cadets, who carry the future of the Imperial Army, could be targeted for attacks. Everyone was a bit taken aback by how casually Mark had just let that slip.
But Ernest knew very well that this seemingly young and frail man was actually far more cautious than he appeared.
From the moment Mark first met Ernest and Robert, and all the way until now, he had been watching them very closely—to see if they had any ulterior motives for approaching his beloved son, or if they might pose any threat.
"Well, I suppose I should get back out there and mingle with the crowd. Enjoy the party, and I hope you both have a wonderful winter at home with your families."
"Yes, thank you. I hope to visit you when the opportunity arises."
"Yes, and after all, we wouldn't want Ferdie to be left crying from loneliness."
"Hahahaha!"
"Father, let's go already."
Ferdinand urged his still-laughing father Mark toward the center of the banquet hall.
Mark, who was slender and no match for his son's strength, kept chuckling and saying something as he was pushed along.
As Ferdinand guided his father forward with one hand on his back, he glanced back and raised a big, solid fist toward Robert.
"Oh, were you already feeling lonely?"
Robert wasn't at all intimidated and shot back a sly grin. He knew Ferdinand would get back at him later, but that would be future Robert's problem; present Robert didn't care one bit.
Mark, feeling his son pushing him, gently guided Ferdinand to his side and placed a warm hand on his son's shoulder, striking up conversation with those around them.
The eldest son and eldest grandson of Brigadier General Heinz were together.
People quickly gathered around, and just as Mark had said, he was soon swept up by the crowd. Before long, Mark looked pale again.
However, even as he chatted, Mark kept a sharp eye on everyone, adeptly using the situation to his advantage, and he never missed a chance to brag about his son, who had taken second place at the Imperial Military Academy. Ferdinand prided himself on being the object of his father's bragging, his chest swelling with confidence.
Ernest watched the two of them with a faint sense of longing. If only my father were here at this party—if only he could proudly say that his son had graduated top of his class from the Empire's best officer training institution, the Imperial Military Academy. If only he could say that with pride—how wonderful that would be.
"Hey, hey. We've got a problem."
"What?"
Robert suddenly grabbed Ernest's shoulder and shook him urgently. When Ernest turned around, Robert whispered in a low, very serious voice.
"The hot food just arrived."
"Let's go right now."
At their age, boys were always hungry, and they already had room in their stomachs. They quickly and discreetly moved along the wall of the banquet hall, zeroing in on the steaming-hot food the servants were bringing out.
"But what do we actually do in field training?"
"I guess it's all about seeing what happens on a real battlefield and training for it."
"So it's just like the name says."
When you're first years who haven't even learned the basics yet, field training just leaves you thinking, 'Wow, that's amazing,' and not much else. That's why field training begins in the second year. Everything really starts to change in the second year. They'll even hold mock battles against other grades. Usually, the senior students win, but sometimes the underclassmen pull off an upset.
"Feels like we barely did anything, and first year's already over."
"Yeah, you're right."
The two boys whispered to each other as they quickly piled the newly brought dishes onto their plates. Food really is best when it's piping hot.
"You have to keep in touch!"
"Hey! Don't forget what you promised!"
"Same to you! You still have to teach me how to ski!"
The morning after the Year-End Party, the front gate of the Imperial Military Academy was crowded with carriages carrying cadets back to their hometowns. A few high-ranking officers or families from the highest ranks of the nobility were greeted by Balt Automobiles, but that was just a select few.
"Argh! Ahhh! Ferdie! I get that you're sad and lonely, but let me go!" "..."
As the eldest grandson of Brigadier General Heinz Hartmann, Ferdinand would naturally ride home in a Balt Automobile. While shaking hands with his classmates before leaving, Ferdinand squeezed Robert's hand so tightly it looked like he wanted to crush it—and in the process, his nickname "Ferdie" was revealed to everyone. Flustered, Ferdinand quickly brushed off Robert's hand and hurried into the car.
"You mean Ferdie! Just wait, I'm going to get you for that!"
"I'll kill you."
"..."
With his hand poking out the window, Ferdinand pointed directly at Robert and muttered in a low voice, then drove off with the sound of Balt Engine and Mark's loud laughter in the background. Robert had to hide behind the other cadets as Ferdinand kept glaring at him through the window until the very end.
"We'll see each other again next spring"
"Hey! The Young Master of the Duke's House is leaving!"
"Robert."
"Alright, line up, everyone. We should at least sprinkle flower petals in his path as he leaves. Well, we don't have petals, so a respectful goodbye will have to do."
"Robert. I'll never forget this humiliation."
"Kehehe! And what if you don't? Sure, maybe I always get pushed around by Ernest and Ferdinand, but I'm still stronger than you!"
"It's truly pitiful to see someone who thinks violence is the only way to solve problems, just like some barbarian."
"Oh, but you'll keep facing me in Mock Battles until graduation. So watch yourself, you feeble Young Master!"
Right in front of the Duke's House's escort guards, Robert did the unthinkable: he boldly teased Wilfried to his heart's content.
Thanks to that, Wilfried climbed into the House of Ravid's splendid Balt Automobile with a face full of determination for revenge.
"Don't wander around at night."
"Yeah, and if you end up dead, let's just call it a natural cause."
"I'll be sure to only go out at night if it's with you guys. From now on, we're in this together, for better or worse."
"No way!"
As it turned out, many cadets seemed to worry about Robert, but it was more like teasing him for having dared to poke fun at the Duke's son. No matter how close you were as friends, mocking the son of a Duke was simply unthinkable in Noble Society. You only joked with people who were on the same social level—but a Duke was on a level all his own.
Robert knew that, too. Still, he simply couldn't ignore Wilfried, who stared after the splendid Balt Automobile as if it were his own coffin, his face looking practically lifeless.
"Write to me!"
"Why bother? You're in Grimman anyway."
"Oh, true. Then I'll just come visit."
Ernest and Robert parted ways without much fuss.
Both of them would be in Grimman, so they could meet up anytime over the winter.
The same went for the other cadets staying in Grimman.
"Father!"
"Ernest."
After leaving the crowded main gate, Ernest quickly spotted his father in the bustling street and ran up to him.
Even amid the throng, Haires stood out, his tall, dark figure like a shadow.
When he saw his son coming, he broke into a faint smile and strode forward.
"It's cold out. Let's go home."
"Yes!"
"...."
"...."
Even after Haires spoke, Ernest only answered loudly but didn't budge an inch.
Hesitating for a moment, Haires gave a slightly awkward, unfamiliar smile.
"Congratulations on being the top student. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you."
It was only after hearing those words from Haires that Ernest finally smiled and started walking.
Despite being able to take a carriage, father and son deliberately walked home together through the cold. Seeing the two of them in black clothes, walking side by side, there was no mistaking they were father and son.
"...."
Marie, of course, saw this as well. While everyone else left the Academy in their own clothes, Marie was still wearing her Cadet Uniform. She had nothing else warm enough for this freezing weather. The Cadet Uniform was much thicker and warmer than what most commoners could afford to wear.
Marie watched Ernest's back recede into the distance for a while, then slowly turned her head to look at the waiting transport vehicles.
For Fiders like her, mere commoners or even slaves, just getting home was an ordeal. If their homes were nearby, carriages would take them. For those farther away, the Transport Division of the Imperial Military Academy used Balt Automobiles to send them. In spring, if they passed through the Imperial Postal Service at the right time, they could get a free ride all the way to Grimman. Marie, too, had to take one of those transport vehicles to return to her hometown.
"Sigh…"
Marie let out a long sigh. Her breath, as white as her face, glittered brightly in the morning sunlight.
"…It's cold."
She whispered softly, then, hugging her only luggage tightly to her chest, started walking.
Soon, the Academy's transport vehicles departed Grimman, carrying the Fiders home.
After all the cadets had left, the once-bustling Imperial Military Academy settled into an unfamiliar morning silence, preparing to welcome winter.