WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Abood

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◈ Friedrich's Battlefield

Chapter 46: Field Training (2)

Ordered by Matthias to return to the regiment waiting in the courtyard while he remained to discuss tomorrow's plans with Joseph, Friedrich and Gregor made their way back.

The soldiers, having rested during their standby, now began preparing for lodging under Gregor's direction. With the Hildegard Regiment occupying all available barracks, the men would settle for tents pitched across the courtyard.

As a staff officer, Friedrich found himself embroiled in logistical coordination with the Hildegard Regiment. Arranging meals, water supplies, and other necessities for accommodating an additional thousand men.

By dusk, the preparations were complete. Exhausted but relieved, Friedrich took a moment to catch his breath before the neatly aligned rows of tents.

"Friedrich."

At the sound of Oliver's voice, Friedrich turned. Approaching him, Oliver was accompanied by none other than Diethelm.

"Let me introduce you. You likely know the name already, this is Diethelm Brightkreuz, Cavalry Captain of the Hildegard Regiment."

When introduced by Oliver, Diethelm raised a hand casually in Friedrich's direction. Friedrich responded with a formal bow.

"Lord Diethelm, it is an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Friedrich, heir to House Hosenfeld—"

"Ah, cut that out. None of that stuff."

Diethelm waved him off with an air of impatience, his demeanor entirely different from when he had greeted the Ferdinand Regiment earlier. At best, it could be called easygoing; at worst, bordering on crude.

So that formal act was just for duty, and this is the real him? Friedrich mused silently.

"We’re in the royal army, where ranks aren’t so damn rigid. Drop the stiffness. Outside official settings, I’ll call you by name, so you call me Diethelm. No titles."

"...Alright."

Friedrich nodded, slightly bewildered. Watching this, Oliver gave a wry smile.

"Diethelm’s always been like this. When we first met, he told me the same thing. I argued that even in the royal army, I couldn’t just casually drop the title of an older heir to a count’s house, but he threatened to punch me if I didn’t. Hard to refuse after that."

"Hah. If I don’t push this hard, everyone keeps their distance with bowing and scraping. I can stomach it from grunts or low-ranking knights, but when even fellow officers act all deferential just because of my birth, it’s suffocating."

Diethelm spat out his words with rough candor.

"So then, Friedrich. I’ve heard about you... Well, well. Lord Hosenfeld sure picked one hell of an unconventional successor, didn’t he?"

His eyes raked Friedrich from head to toe—unceremonious, but devoid of malice, so Friedrich took no offense. Beside him, though, Yurika’s face plainly said ‘What’s this guy’s problem?’

"Lord Hosenfeld is the man who once saved the western territories from the Kingdom of Loire’s invasion. To us from the west, he’s nothing short of a living legend. Like every other noble brat out there, I idolized him. Trained myself to the bone, hoping to become a knight as great as he is. So when I heard he’d taken in an adopted heir, I wondered what kind of monster you’d be... But honestly? You’re not what I expected."

Delivered without sarcasm and almost cheerfully, the remark drew an involuntary laugh from Friedrich. Meanwhile, Yurika glared daggers at Diethelm.

"Oh-ho, you’ve got a scary one attached to you. This your woman?"

Diethelm laughed, entirely unfazed by Yurika’s glare—if anything, he seemed to be teasing her.

"That’s right. She’s my lover and a knight who serves as my bodyguard."

"Figured as much. If Lord Hosenfeld allows her by your side, she must be plenty capable."

Yurika bared a fierce and challenging grin at those words.

"Want to test that theory?"

"Oh? That sounds like a good idea."

"Not happening, Diethelm. I’m guessing Marquis Obsidian explicitly told you not to pick mock battles with the Ferdinand Regiment’s newcomers the moment you arrived."

When Oliver cut in, Diethelm made a face like a scolded child.

"Ugh, seriously? First time we meet in ages, and you’re already playing babysitter? ...But yeah, you’re right. Even a very busy cavalry captain like me can’t afford to slack off too long, else the regiment commander and my subordinates’ll chew me out. So I’ll stick to my original reason for coming, just saying hello."

Diethelm turned his gaze back to Friedrich, his expression sharp.

"Friedrich. Are you truly worthy to be Lord Hosenfeld’s successor?"

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, but Friedrich only smiled faintly and nodded.

"That’s what I intend to be. I’ve earned merit twice in battle even before formally joining the army, and I’ve resolved to survive the battlefield."

"Hah. Fair enough. But you know what they say, even luck can hold out twice. Two victories could just be flukes. And let me be clear, this isn’t just my skepticism talking. Plenty in the royal army and noble circles are thinking the same thing. They just won’t say it to your face."

A wry smile tugged at Friedrich’s lips.

He was well aware that doubts lingered about his capability as the heir to a hero. While the Ferdinand Regiment who’s deeply loyal to Matthias might accept him, winning over the rest of the royal army and the nobility wouldn’t be so simple.

‘Then what should I do?’ He tilted his head slightly, silently posing the question back at Diethelm.

"Win glory three times in a row, and even the skeptics will have to shut their mouths. So whenever the next battle comes, make sure you prove yourself again. Then pests like me won’t have any reason to pester you."

Diethelm grinned, inexplicably smug.

"And since I’m preaching at you, I’ll show you why the rumors call me exceptional. Tomorrow’s drills, watch my command in action."

"...I’ll look forward to it."

"Ha! Didn’t expect you to play along so easily. I like you."

With that, he gave Friedrich’s chest a light jab and strode off.

"Is he... a good person?"

"As a soldier, he’s outstanding. And at heart? Not a bad man. Though opinions on him vary."

Watching Diethelm’s retreating back, Friedrich posed the question. Oliver answered while absently touching the scar on his cheek, as was his habit.

Personally, I don’t dislike him.

Friedrich filed away his first impression of Diethelm just like that.

・・・・・・

The next day, on the plains near Arnsberg Fortress, Diethelm proved true to his word

during the formation drills.

"Infantry, maintain formation and advance. Archers, fan out to the flanks as you move forward."

The Ferdinand Regiment’s full strength, half of the Hildegard Regiment under Diethelm’s temporary command (loaned by Joseph), and conscripts gathered from the western royal territories for the exercise, a force totaling nearly two thousand. At its head, Matthias issued orders as supreme commander.

Those commands were relayed by adjutant Gregor and headquarters messengers, filtering down through battalion captains, company leaders, and squad commanders until they reached every last soldier. And with that, the formations moved.

As expected, the Ferdinand Regiment which is a unit honed through rigorous training executed their maneuvers with seamless precision. But even the Hildegard Regiment and the conscripted troops followed their lead without faltering. Not a single significant disruption marred the drill.

The one making this possible was Diethelm's support as vice-commander. By rallying the Hildegard Regiment and the conscripted troops, he ensured the entire operation moved without hesitation.

In the subsequent training exercise, a tactical retreat formation, Diethelm was appointed by Matthias to take full command.

"Vanguard, fall back in unison. Archers, continue providing cover from both flanks. Rearguard, withdraw swiftly. Cavalry, secure their sides."

Diethelm's command was precise and without hesitation. The Hildegard Regiment and the conscripted troops, now accustomed to following his lead, formed the core of the operation as the entire force of two thousand moved in perfect order.

Not only his commands, but his bearing and speech were exemplary for a military officer.

"...You don't think he's actually a twin, do you?"

"Ahaha, what if it's their family tradition to have twins take turns surprising new recruits in the royal army? That'd be pretty funny."

Observing the tactical maneuvers from the command post, Friedrich couldn't help but chuckle quietly at Yurika's muttering.

The delinquent-like behavior from the previous day seemed like a lie, Diethelm now appeared every bit the model knight. He was clearly a capable officer, demonstrating the qualities of a true commander.

The contrast was so stark that Friedrich might have believed it if told Diethelm had a twin, one disciplined and the other rough around the edges. Though he'd never heard any rumors about the Brightkreuz family having twins.

The training concluded without incident, and preparations began for their return to Arnsberg Fortress.

"Yo, Friedrich."

Diethelm, who had called out to him, had already reverted to the same casual tone from their first meeting the day before. It seemed he really wasn't a twin after all.

"So, what did you think of my command?"

"...I was impressed. Worthy of the future Hildegard Regiment commander. Truly excellent. As someone aiming to become a general myself, I learned a great deal."

Friedrich offered his praise honestly. In truth, there was no longer any room to doubt Diethelm's abilities.

"Hahaha, you sure know how to flatter a guy... Well then, I've kept my promise so now it's your turn, got it?"

"Understood. My third distinguished achievement, right?"

Friedrich responded, though he didn't recall any explicit promise being made the day before. Regardless, one thing remained unchanged, he needed to distinguish himself again in the next battle.

"Yeah, your third achievement. I'll be waiting to hear the good news."

With those final words, Diethelm returned to his regiment.

・・・・・・

The day after completing the formation drills, the Ferdinand Regiment departed for the royal capital's military headquarters.

The scheduled return trip was also part of the training exercise. That said, with the most critical phase behind them, the journey home proved even more relaxed than the outbound trip.

"Friedrich. I noticed you speaking with Diethelm earlier, did you have a good exchange?"

"...Yes, I believe so. I think we could become friends."

When Matthias posed the question, Friedrich nodded as he recalled the easygoing yet undeniably skilled cavalry commander, free-spirited but undoubtedly competent.

"Is that so? He's a bit of an eccentric, that one. But there's no doubt he's a man who will shoulder the future of the kingdom's army. Given your similar ages, you'll likely be working together for years to come. It's fortunate you've made his acquaintance on good terms."

Keeping his gaze forward, Matthias offered these words of reflection.

・・・・・・

"You seem unusually taken with him."

"Hm?"

Around the same time, in the commander's office of Arnsberg Fortress, Diethelm responded to Joseph with characteristic bluntness.

"I'm talking about Count Hosenfeld's adopted son. Before the Ferdinand Regiment arrived, you were all fired up about beating up any boring guy unworthy of the Hosenfeld name, weren't you?"

"Oh, that guy... He looks scrawny and unreliable at first glance, but I could tell when I met his eyes. He's the type who'll make you regret underestimating him."

"Ho? You figured that out quickly."

Joseph raised an eyebrow at Diethelm's assessment, which mirrored his own.

"From all the damn fights I got into as a kid, I learned guys with eyes like that are the toughest bastards. The kind who'll never back down on principle, fight dirty if they have to, and do whatever it takes to win."

Now renowned as one of the kingdom's foremost knights, Diethelm had demonstrated his remarkable talents since childhood. He received his knighthood before coming of age at just fourteen years old.

Yet at the same time, he was equally infamous as a hotheaded troublemaker.

It made no difference to him whether they were noble children, retainers' sons, or commoners.If they rubbed him the wrong way, he'd pick a fight head-on. He never used his family's status as a shield, enduring beatings and injuries without seeking retribution through his lineage. His combative nature simply knew no bounds.

There were even times he'd sneak out of the estate to roam the commoner districts of the capital, concealing his identity to challenge local street toughs to brawls.

Exasperated by his brilliant but uncontrollable heir, the Brightkreuz Count wasted no time thrusting the newly-knighted Diethelm into the royal army. It was Joseph who was renowned as an experienced commander that essentially took him under his wing, accepting him into his unit and rigorously molding him.

The result was Diethelm's transformation from a cocky brat into a true soldier. He learned to read situations, becoming nearly unrecognizable compared to his pre-enlistment self.

To Diethelm, Joseph was both his superior and something akin to a second father. Save for formal settings with subordinates present, he was permitted to speak with him casually, a rare privilege.

"There's more to it. Those eyes, they've definitely stared death in the face. And yet, they still held the resolve to keep fighting. With eyes like that, he might just have what it takes to carry the Hero's legacy... Not that he can go around showing them to the whole damn kingdom to prove it."

"Then why don’t you spread the word yourself? Tell everyone Friedrich has the eyes worthy of succeeding the Hero. You know there are still skeptics about him."

"The hell would I do that much work for? Proving himself is his own damn job. All he’s gotta do is stack up undeniable achievements and shut up every last noble and soldier in the kingdom."

Hearing Diethelm’s words, Joseph cracked a smirk.

"You really do like him, don’t you?"

"Ahhh shut it. If that’s all then I’m outta here."

"Yeah, yeah, get going. Good work on the report."

Diethelm, who had originally been summoned to debrief on the exercises, paused at the door. The irreverent demeanor he’d shown moments earlier vanished as his posture straightened into that of a proper knight.

With a sharp, formal salute, he took his leave.

Footnotes:

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