"You talk as if you've seen before. Where did we et?"
"That couldn't be, sir. I just heard you're soone who likes to joke around, so I simply made a guess."
The old man quietly smiled. Then he replied,
"Tell . If your guess convinces , this old man might feel delighted for the first ti in a while."
At the old man's words, Konrad silently bowed his head. It was quite different from how he had treated the earlier 'so-called Commander'.
'Is this a kind of test? He's quite spontaneous.'
Of course, this probably wasn't a test that Commander August had initially intended. He just wanted to play a prank on Erich, but Erich imdiately saw through his identity, which must have piqued his interest.
'Still, this isn't bad.'
If Erich could answer August's question well, he could make a good start. In fact, this situation was nearly what Erich had intended.
Commander August von Ludenwald. Erich had a deep history with him. In fact, it was August who first recognized Erich's talent—when Erich had struggled to adapt to the Watch and always felt like an outsider—and made him the next commander.
So Erich not only knew August's face well, but he could also easily anticipate his reaction to such pranks.
"I could tell by your hands, sir."
"My hands? What about my hands?"
"A certain wise man once told that a person's hands tell the story of their life. However, the hands of the man who thrust his face at , claiming to be the commander, were not the hands of a commander, sir."
"If not the hands of a commander... then what do you think the hands of a commander should be like?"
"The person over there has not wielded a sword in a long ti. Once, he must have been famous as a swordsman. On the other hand, I saw the leaves being cut sharply by the commander's scissors, without touching the edges. The hands that held those scissors were the hands only possessed by the most skilled and powerful swordsn, sir."
"Hoho! So you noticed even all that, huh? Chief of Staff Anton, he says you're an old-tir."
At the commander's words, the eyes of the handso middle-aged man, called Anton, glinted with intrigue. He rested his hand quietly on his sword and fixed Erich with a steady gaze.
But then, anton relaxed and gave an embarrassed smile.
"He's not wrong, sir Konrad. You've brought in quite a capable person."
"Not at all. He practically rolled in all on his own—I didn't have to do anything."
The tension in the room quickly dissipated. Fortunately, the commander seed satisfied with Erich's explanation.
But this was not simply because Erich's words were persuasive.
Hands reflect a person's life. You can know everything by looking at their hands. After all, it was none other than August himself who'd once told Erich that.
'Thank goodness the one pretending to be the commander was Uncle Anton.'
With so people, this could have been taken as, 'You're not much of a commander, are you?' But fortunately, the role had fallen to the famously good-natured Chief of Staff Anton.
Thanks to that, Erich could praise the commander as much as decorum allowed—without crossing the line—and still achieve the result he wanted.
All of this was only possible because Erich already recognized the faces in the room.
The personnel of the Watch here, including the commander, were mostly high-ranking officers, except for Konrad. These were the core staff who led the Watch from the headquarters within the Black Citadel.
Erich had known almost all of them before his regression and hardly anything about them was a mystery to him.
Erich quietly studied each of them. Among these, so would survive until Erich beca commander, while others would lose their lives before then.
Yet seeing their faces once again stirred strange emotions inside him.
'... Now I truly feel like I'm back.'
Finally, Erich let a small smile linger on his lips. But his thoughts were interrupted as Commander August opened his mouth.
"I've laughed enough; let's end the jokes here. Normally, I'd send you back to the training unit and start you from basic drills, but everyone agreed that would be a waste of ti."
"But are you really going to use when I know nothing about this place?"
"Of course I can't. Instead, I want to put you in charge of a small outpost for a while. What do you think?"
A small outpost. Those words ant Erich would start as the lowest-ranking officer—a post commander.
Of course, Erich guessed that the outpost August had in mind for him was no ordinary one.
"May I ask where the outpost is? Is it at the frontlines, sir?"
"We wouldn't put a new officer in charge of a frontline outpost. There are many outposts within this Great Wall. You'll be assigned to one of them."
"It seems there is a 'small problem' at the outpost I'll be assigned to, isn't there, sir?"
At Erich's response, August glanced sideways at the officers and smiled.
"There is a small problem. I see you've already figured out my intent. I'd like to entrust you with that outpost for a short ti—what do you say?"
August's request was one that couldn't be refused. The Watch was not so comfortable a place that you could choose your post.
Most likely, August wanted to see how Erich would handle this 'small problem'.
'A test. Not bad at all.'
There was no reason for the mbers to obey an officer who hadn't even gone through the training unit. But by solving the problem within the Great Wall, Erich could prove his competence and let this serve as his grand debut.
"Please entrust it to ."
Erich bowed his head quietly. Then August drew a sword from his waist. It was drawn so deftly that the sound of the blade leaving its sheath could not be heard.
Such skill couldn't be attributed to an old, thick-fingered hand.
—Tac.
Erich felt the cold, heavy weight of the blade rest on his shoulder. At the sa ti, August spoke.
"I, August von Ludenwald, commander of the Watch, hereby appoint Erich von Krupp as the post commander of the Black Serpent Outpost."
'Black Serpent Outpost.'
At that na, a twitch appeared in the corner of Erich's eye. Imdiately, a sense of foreboding crawled down his spine.
There was an unspoken rule in the Watch before his regression: never na an outpost after darkness or serpents. The very origin of this curse was the Black Serpent Outpost itself.
***
Through the gap in the wooden door, a bitter wind seeped in and bit at their skin. Joseph shivered and rubbed his arms.
"... Aren't you cold, sir?"
"I am. Just as I expected."
Joseph widened his eyes in surprise. Understandably so—he had thought that Erich, who ca from the south, would be shocked by the northern cold.
Even though they had entered the building quite a while ago, a layer of frost clung stubbornly to the shoulders of both Joseph and Erich.
The fireplace blazed, but its heat was far from enough. Joseph, a bit embarrassed, poked at the fire as he continued speaking.
"The Black Serpent Outpost may be uncomfortable, but it's not as sinister as the rumors say, sir."
"What rumors?"
"Ah, it's just that... the n on night watch keep saying they see things at night, sir."
"That's already sinister enough. What do you think, senior Joseph? As the supply unit's deputy, you must drop by here from ti to ti."
Joseph stroked his chin before answering.
"Well... in fact, things like the n avoiding night shifts or saying they see things—those things happen fairly often. And when you look into it, it's almost always nothing."
At Joseph's words, Erich smirked. Of course, in most cases, that would certainly be true. The problem was that the Black Serpent Outpost had once been shut down entirely because of what happened at this place.
'If I rember right, the Black Serpent Outpost simply vanished one day, without a trace.'
There had been plenty of rumors about desertion and such at the ti, but—this was proof that the sinister gossip was more than just idle talk.
But Erich was confident. With his skills and knowledge now, he was certain he could resolve whatever happens at the Black Serpent Outpost.
However, that wasn't the problem at hand.
Erich and Joseph, following the commander's orders, were waiting for a senior team mber who would assist Erich. In fact, Erich was more interested in that senior mber now.
"By the way, what kind of person is the senior mber the commander is assigning as my deputy?"
"Umm...."
Joseph bit his lip, looking a little troubled, then finally opened his mouth as if he'd made up his mind.
"In terms of skill, there's nothing to complain about. Among all the senior mbers, he's exceptionally skilled. The only thing is..."
"But, nothing good ever cos after that 'only', does it?"
"There's a bit of a personality issue... He's been a mber for over twenty years, actually."
Joseph's voice trailed off. But just that was enough for Erich to make an educated guess.
'Twenty years, and still just assigned as a senior mber at an outpost? Must be a big problem there.'
Unlike the chief senior mbers, who only the best could reach, a regular senior mber's abilities were defined by where they worked.
Considering most are ranked as outpost—fortress—unit senior, being a senior mber at an outpost made him basically the lowest of the seniors.
Yet, with no problem in skills, he'd spent 20 years in that position? Clearly, sothing was very wrong.
—Bang!
Suddenly, the door crashed open as if it would break off its hinges. There stood a man with a bandit-like beard, glaring at Joseph and Erich with fierce eyes.
"This is fucking bullshit. Who the hell says there's a problem?"
"... Fr, Frederick. It's not like that..."
Joseph avoided Frederick's gaze and shot a sidelong glance at Erich. It was as if to say, 'See? He's basically like this.'
But Erich simply raised a corner of his mouth as he t Frederick's eyes.
Frederick. The perpetual senior mber. No one in the Watch didn't know his famously infamous na.
And not in a good way. Because Frederick was known as—
'Frederick the Mutineer.'
He couldn't stand anyone being above him...
Which ant, as a subordinate, he was the absolute worst you could possibly have.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】
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