WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
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◈ How the Child of Prophecy Survives ◈
Chapter 9: Cursed Tongue
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The day after the incident was settled, Ernst finally joined the lectures he had missed while being questioned. He had missed the first lecture, which could easily be called the most important, but he had no regrets. There was no reason to regret it at all.
“Just fifty years ago, Mihanil was nothing more than an ordinary little barony. But the moment our great Emperor took that first step, the small barony of Mihanil broke free of its shell and took flight, becoming a mighty empire with vast lands. Do you see? Our homeland, our empire, rules the world.”
The instructor had hung an old map beside a current one. Pointing at the empire’s territory with a pointer, they spoke with great passion.
“For twenty-eight years, the empire fought without pause and won. It achieved glorious victory after glorious victory. Thus, the small barony became a kingdom, and the kingdom became an empire. We planted countless flags of victory and conquered the world.”
The instructor looked up at the portrait of the great Emperor. It hung at the highest point on the wall in an ornate frame, its bright blue eyes gazing down at everyone.
“All of this was achieved by our great Emperor. The first Valtlacher, the Master Valtlacher who has reached a level no other can match, the master of Valt who creates and grants us the Valt batteries that power all our Valt engines! These engines allow the empire to defeat its enemies and give us comfortable lives. With that noble power and authority, the Emperor watches over us.”
The instructor’s excited voice was full of certainty.
“You must all know this already. Valtlachers who can use Valt batteries are common. But there is only one being in this world who can create Valt itself: our great Emperor. Only our great Emperor has the rightful authority to rule the Mihanil Empire and this world.”
There was not a trace of doubt in their powerful voice or their eyes shining with awe. Their clenched fists trembled with fighting spirit, as though ready to smash the barbaric Allied Forces that refused to accept the Emperor’s rule.
The cadets listened with shining eyes, so excited that they could hardly stay in their seats.
“Instructor, we saw the Bewachter, the Emperor’s personal guard, at the entrance ceremony. Was the Emperor watching us then?”
“Yes. You could not dare look upon the Emperor, but the Emperor was watching every last one of you. Still, do not be disappointed. When you graduate from the academy, our great Emperor will appear before you and bless the moment you become glorious officers of the empire.”
The cadets murmured among themselves. They still had not forgotten the splendid uniforms and dignified appearance of the Bewachter they had seen at the entrance ceremony.
“Can we become Bewachter too?”
“The moment you become cadets of the Imperial Military Academy, you all become eligible to join the Bewachter. But not everyone can do so. Only those specially chosen from among the finest cadets can become Bewachter. So all of you must work hard for the Mihanil Empire and the Emperor.”
“Yes!”
Seeing the cadets answer with such energy, the instructor gave a rare smile of satisfaction. But not every cadet pleased them.
A few found no value in this class and could not understand its purpose. One of them was none other than Ferdinand, the eldest grandson of Brigadier General Heinz Hartmann.
‘A soldier should obey orders. That’s only natural.’
Ferdinand knew perfectly well that this lecture was meant to strengthen their loyalty to the empire.
The several days of nothing but drill training before the lectures had served the same purpose. Even a small mistake during drills earned a furious scolding and caused trouble for the other cadets. Naturally, everyone began trying to act exactly like everyone else to avoid causing trouble for those around them. After teaching obedience and conformity, the academy moved on to lessons in loyalty to thoroughly reshape their minds.
Ferdinand thought it was contradictory to give this training at all. Soldiers should naturally obey orders. Anyone who could not do that had no right to become a soldier, much less an officer of the empire.
Another person shared Ferdinand’s low opinion of this class. It was Wilfried, the fourth son of the Duke of Rabid.
‘Wasting time on something so useless. Surely they could teach us something more valuable.’
As a duke’s son, Wilfried had easier access to the center of imperial power than the other cadets. Praise for the Emperor did not make his heart burn with excitement. Instead, a little resentment kept stirring in his chest.
Wilfried could not afford to waste time on things like this. To receive his family’s support, he had to graduate from the academy with good grades.
And there was one more cadet who stood apart from this moment, while most of the others nurtured their loyalty to the Emperor with shining eyes.
‘Did they paint the Emperor’s eyes so blue and bright because the Emperor is a Master Valtlacher? Or are they really that blue?’
Ernst studied the Emperor’s portrait at the highest point on the wall, deep in serious thought.
‘If they really shine that brightly, seeing at night must be easy. That would be really convenient. But wouldn’t it also stand out? Walking around at night would make the Emperor an easy target for a sniper. Well, the Emperor must always have protection against snipers. Is that why the Emperor only watched from the back for a bit at the entrance ceremony before leaving? But didn’t the other nobles know that was the Emperor? They would’ve known if those eyes were glowing. Maybe the eyes don’t glow? Then the portrait’s wrong. Well, portraits of important people are always painted to look more impressive and dignified. In that case, there might be a portrait of Father somewhere too. He was an excellent soldier, and he even received the Noble Heart Medal. I’d like to see a portrait of him. Should I write him a letter? He might have one.’
Ernst stared up at the Emperor’s portrait with fierce seriousness and nodded solemnly.
‘Ah, maybe I made too much of a fuss last time. Anyway, why does the Cadet Corps Commander shave their head so neatly?’
He thought about writing to his father. That reminded him that two more merit points would earn him permission to go out as a reward. Then he remembered why he had received three merit points, thought back over the recent incident, and recalled Gauss’s sweat-soaked bald head, which he had seen while talking away in front of Major General Armin Mannheim.
At the end of this chain of thought, Ernst reached a serious conclusion.
‘I want to go have some fun in the forest.’
If Cadet Corps Commander Brigadier General Gauss Schultz had known that Ernst had compared their bald head with Armin’s thick hair and then thought of a lush forest, they would have been furious that they could not punish this insolent brat. Veins would have bulged across that smooth scalp.
‘He seemed quite restless, but he’s surprisingly focused.’
The instructor glanced at Ernst, who was absorbed in the Emperor’s portrait, and nodded in satisfaction.
“The Emperor worked to spread the light of civilization among these barbarians and enlighten them with a keen intellect. Yet these ignorant barbarians rejected our great Emperor’s mercy and dared to turn their spears and swords against the Emperor. Yes, those barbaric spears and swords!”
While Ernst recalled the time he had spent in the forest with his father, the instructor had moved on to an angry speech about the empire’s enemies.
“Valt engines, advanced through the Emperor’s grace, and their overwhelming power! Before the Imperial Army, armed with Valt guns, the barbarians waving spears and swords and firing feeble arrows could do nothing but scream and fall. Look at those barbarians fleeing from Valt guns, believing them to be the wrath of a god.”
The instructor pulled aside a section along the classroom wall, revealing a large painting. It showed a sharp contrast between the Imperial Army, standing in orderly ranks and firing blue flashes from their Valt guns, and barbarians dressed in animal skins, armed with spears and swords, fleeing with screams.
Only after seeing that grand painting did Ernst finally manage to focus on the lecture again. But he did not dare speak the words hovering on his tongue.
‘But in the end, the Allied Forces stopped them, and they had no choice but to halt the War of Conquest.’
The Allied Forces had held out in the mountains and forests, using guerrilla tactics to force the Imperial Army into a constant war of attrition. The army had been pinned down, unable to bear the terrible drain on its resources caused by its overstretched front lines. In the end, the Mihanil Empire’s War of Conquest had come to a halt.
Through his blunt father, Ernst had learned to look at situations without emotion and judge them calmly.
The early stages of the Mihanil Empire’s War of Conquest had been one-sided. But as the empire expanded its territory, the front lines had continued to grow. Failing to keep them under proper control had been a clear strategic mistake.
Had Emperor Walter Ulrich Mihanil thought victory was still possible? Had the Emperor entertained the delusion that, with nothing but the power of Valt guns and Valtlachers, the empire could win a war along its borders with four kingdoms immediately after fighting five kingdoms in succession, without even taking time to strengthen itself?
While Ernst questioned the Emperor’s judgment, the instructor continued speaking.
“Even so, these barbarians are a race that can be civilized. We can turn them into civilized people through the empire’s light. But there are evil, hideous beasts that can never become civilized.”
The instructor spoke in a low, sinister voice, as though threatening the cadets.
“They are the Saraan.”
A small stir passed through the cadets the moment the instructor said it. Everyone in the empire already knew the danger posed by that evil, cruel, filthy people.
“The Saraan live to throw filth upon our great Emperor’s authority. When the Emperor appeared in person to show mercy even to the Saraan, they pretended to welcome imperial rule and deceived the Emperor. Then, with poisoned blades and poisoned wine, they dared to reach for what was far beyond their place. With those shining eyes, our great Emperor saw through every scheme and destroyed the vile Saraan trap head-on. Even afterward, the Saraan have continued to threaten the empire and the Emperor.”
The instructor’s voice shook with anger.
“If you see a Saraan, report them without hesitation. If you do not have time for that, kill them without hesitation.”
“How can we tell who’s Saraan? Don’t we need a way to recognize them before we can report or kill them?”
“A good question. I will give you one merit point.”
“Thank you!”
The instructor nodded in satisfaction at the cadet’s question and even awarded a merit point.
Then they addressed the cadets in a mocking voice.
“The Saraan are truly barbaric creatures. They still believe in their barbaric god.”
“A god?”
The cadets sneered at the instructor’s words.
“Yes. Even after seeing countless barbarians die crying out to their gods before our great Emperor, those Saraan still believe in a god.”
Pleased with the cadets’ reaction, the instructor continued.
“And these creatures, who are beyond all hope of civilization, cannot even deny their barbaric god. So it is very easy to identify a Saraan. Make them insult the Saraan’s barbarian god and spit on it. Anyone who cannot do so is Saraan. Report them or kill them.”
The instructor smiled and spoke as though it were only natural.
“They are not human, but beasts that cannot be civilized, beasts that harm people and bare their teeth at the empire. Those who report and kill Saraan will receive a fitting reward.”
The cadets whispered among themselves.
To most of the young cadets, such words still felt strange and distant. But boys like Ferdinand, who had been raised as soldiers from a very young age, silently accepted the “order.” A few others were so excited by the thought of a reward that they could hardly wait to report a Saraan or hunt one down and kill them.
‘Really?’
Among them, Ernst was probably the only one who questioned this “law” proclaimed by the empire’s Emperor. He had not forgotten what his respected father had taught him.
Do not stop thinking. Keep questioning, analyzing, understanding, and reasoning.
The answer is not something you are given. It is something you reach.
To Ernst, who had not forgotten those lessons, the instructor’s words sounded like a very poorly constructed lie.
No one but Ernst questioned these lessons. But there was certainly someone who found them repulsive.
“...”
Wilfried Rabid’s beautiful blue eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the Allied Forces in the painting, shown as barbarians being mercilessly slaughtered by the Imperial Army.
In truth, Wilfried knew perfectly well that the Allied Forces were not ignorant savages like that. After all, the House of Rabid itself had been no different from them before submitting to the Emperor.
‘Disgusting.’
Wilfried muttered inwardly. Even he did not know where that disgust was directed. But at the very least, he could not deny that some of it was directed at himself.
* * *
For three full days, every training period for the freshmen was devoted to ideological training. Even afterward, it continued under the name “History of the Empire,” and before long, everything the instructor said became common knowledge among the cadets. Already trained to obey, conform, and avoid going against the group, the young cadets came to accept it all as truth.
“Really?”
“Ernst, can you please stop with that damned ‘Really?’”
“Robert, do you really think the Imperial Army gave up its advance and halted the War of Conquest because of half-naked barbarians who crawled on all fours, waved spears and swords, and bit people?”
“...No, well, I mean, not exactly...”
Against his will, Robert had become an exception. His crime was sharing a room with Ernst, an exception among exceptions in the entire history of the Imperial Military Academy. As punishment, he had lost the ability to empty his mind and follow the group.
Robert felt deeply uncomfortable with the person he had become. Whenever everyone else agreed, only he and Ernst ended up muttering that damned “Really?”
Fortunately, no one around them had noticed that Ernst and Robert were different. Ernst, who had been thoroughly trained by Hires, and Robert, who had been taught by his capable merchant father, knew perfectly well that nothing good would come of being found out.
But as things turned out, while Ernst’s academy life was going smoothly, Robert’s was showing clear signs of danger.
“Fire!”
Baang!
“Zimmermann! I have taught countless cadets as an instructor, but I have never seen anyone with shooting skills as terrible as yours!”
“I-I’m sorry!”
Once ideological training had been renamed “History of the Empire” and their other training had begun in earnest, Robert, the son of a commoner merchant, had struggled badly.
“Even this training Valt battery is wasted on you! A Valt battery granted by the Emperor is being used for absolutely nothing! There is truly not the slightest sign of improvement!”
“...”
Robert had fired ten shots at a target that was not even very far away and failed to hit it once. Unable even to answer the instructor, he lowered his head.
“Fire!”
Baang!
“Mm, excellent. Krieger, right in the center again.”
“Thank you, Instructor.”
Ernst, on the other hand, had learned to operate the latest Valt gun issued to the Imperial Military Academy’s cadets, then landed his first shot just off the center. Every shot after that had struck the exact center.
The instructors could not help being astonished. This restless cadet loaded his gun at an unbelievable speed, then aimed and fired with frightening swiftness, punching straight through the center of the target.
His precise stance was impressive, of course. But what allowed Ernst to aim and fire in less than a single breath, striking the same spot every time, was his frightening concentration.
‘He’s like a real soldier.’
The instructor thought Ernst’s remarkable focus resembled the concentration of a soldier facing life or death in battle.
Hires had taught Ernst that the value of one bullet was the value of one life. Ernst had not forgotten his father’s words: one bullet could take an enemy’s life, and one bullet could save his own.
And although Ernst had never killed a person, he had killed dozens of animals while hunting. He understood the weight of a bullet.
That gave his shooting a slightly strange sense of urgency.
‘Fast, convenient, and reliable. Amazing.’
Ernst, too, was astonished by the capabilities of the latest Valt gun. Hires, who had retired fourteen years earlier, owned an old muzzle-loading model. After each shot, he had to check the Valt battery for damage and press it firmly back into place by hand to prevent it from shifting and causing a misfire. Since the gun was muzzle-loading, the bullet could even roll out if he lowered the muzzle.
But the latest Valt gun was breech-loading. All he had to do was open the breech cover, insert a bullet, close the cover, and pull the trigger. The bullet fitted snugly inside the chamber and did not roll out even when he lowered the muzzle. A spring kept pressure on the Valt battery to prevent the force of a shot from pushing it out of place.
A cadet already familiar with guns, like Ernst, hardly needed to learn how to use it. Even Robert, who had never held a gun in his life, could easily load and fire it.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Cadets from military families, like Ferdinand, were already familiar with the latest Valt guns. With the stock against their shoulder, they supported the gun in the crook of their left arm while holding bullets in their left hand. Immediately after firing, they reloaded in a flash without shifting their aim, firing five shots in the blink of an eye.
This unusual shooting method was somewhat less accurate, but not enough to miss an enemy at close range. It also allowed a terrifying rate of fire. The moment Ernst saw it, he was so shocked that goosebumps rose all over his body.
One skilled soldier could fire five bullets at a rate of one every two seconds. Then it took only a few more seconds to gather another handful of bullets in the left hand before the muzzle began spitting fire again.
The firepower was absurd. And the latest Valt gun was extremely reliable, with far greater accuracy than the old model.
Enemies armed with mere gunpowder guns would fall dead without even being able to fight back.
“Zimmermann!”
“I’m sorry!”
“So you were capable of it after all! You finally hit the target! You were a little, slightly... quite far off the center, but you hit it! That means you’re improving!”
“Th-Thank you!”
In that sense, Robert’s shooting was astonishing in a bad way. Only on his eleventh shot had he finally managed to hit the very edge of the target.
Ernst thought that if he left Robert alone, his friend would end up expelled, making all their efforts to turn the Cadet Corps upside down pointless.
Because, well... his grades would be too poor...
“Instructor, can we practice shooting outside training hours?”
Ernst put the question to the instructor, who kept admiring his remarkable accuracy. The instructor assumed that Ernst wanted to practice the rapid shooting method cadets like Ferdinand had demonstrated. And instructors were quite fond of eager cadets.
“Valt guns and Valt batteries used for shooting are strictly controlled. Cadets cannot be allowed to practice shooting alone. However, if you submit an application after dinner, you may practice under an instructor’s supervision.”
“Understood. Thank you for telling me.”
The instructor smiled, deeply pleased by Ernst’s enthusiasm.
When Ernst had set a trap, crippled an upperclassman, and smashed the Cadet Corps, the instructor had wondered what on earth they were supposed to do with this lunatic. But once training began, he turned out to be extremely capable, obedient, polite, and even modest.
Unlike the Cadet Corps, which hated Ernst but could not lay a finger on him for fear of the consequences, the Academic Department was quite fond of him. The Academic Department and Cadet Corps were the two institutions that divided the Imperial Military Academy between them, but they also kept each other in check and competed.
Head of the Academic Department Brigadier General Kramer Schäfer had defended Ernst partly because they had judged that he could not be punished. But these internal academy politics had probably also played a considerable role.
Ernst carefully observed Ferdinand’s shooting technique. Even among the cadets from military families, Ferdinand’s skill stood out. There was no reason to look away when he could watch and learn. He should pay close attention.
“Zimmermann! How is this possible? You missed again! Have you deceived me? Did you hit the target just now to trick me into thinking you were improving?”
“I’m sorry!”
And he needed to keep Robert from being expelled too...
“...”
While Ernst briefly glanced at Robert, another cadet taking part in shooting practice, Ferdinand Hartmann, turned his grave brown eyes toward Ernst.
Then, when Ernst looked away from Robert and faced forward again, Ferdinand began pouring out rapid shots as though he had never taken his eyes off the target.
Ferdinand fired until his Valt gun overheated and could no longer shoot, then became the first to leave the range. In truth, he had little need for shooting practice.
There was no question that Ferdinand had achieved the best results in their first shooting session. With the unanimous agreement of the instructors and training assistants, he was named the best cadet and awarded one merit point. And unless something unusual happened, Ferdinand would remain the best shot among Ernst’s classmates.
“Hartmann, we really can’t compete with you.”
“That speed was incredible. And you’re accurate too.”
The cadets who followed Ferdinand came out of the range after him. They praised his skill, but since his shooting was genuinely equal to that of a well-trained soldier, it did not seem like flattery.
“Being good at something anyone can do, like shooting, doesn’t mean much.”
Yet that was how Ferdinand judged his highly praised marksmanship, speaking in a low, rough voice. How much use would good shooting really be to an officer?
“...Ah, y-yes, that’s true...”
The boys in Ferdinand’s faction had considered their excellent shooting skills something to be proud of, so his words left them feeling awkward.
“...”
Ignoring them, Ferdinand fixed his large, intense eyes on Ernst’s back as Ernst continued shooting.
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