Unyielding Bastion Fortress, second floor, Deputy Commander’s office.
“So… Your Highness, you’ve truly made up your mind?”
When Theresa led Green straight to Deputy Commander Martin, the old general seemed to understand already. He touched the shining medals on his chest with a complicated expression.
“Yes, Old Martin.”
Theresa gripped the imperial sword and announced, “After judging those parasites, I will form the Death Squad and personally lead the army to complete this ambush.”
“That’s very risky.”
Old Martin’s face was grim. “Your Highness, years ago your mother entrusted your safety to me. I truly cannot bear to see you go to the frontlines yourself.”
“But I must go.”
Theresa insisted, “As a proud Imperial soldier, as… the princess who has inherited the True Dragon’s bloodline, this is my sacred and inalienable right and duty.”
Martin looked conflicted, as if weighing the pros and cons.
“Your Highness, please allow me to—”
Bang.
The office door was flung open.
Colonel Reyn strode in, bringing with him several trembling, shackled figures, who entered the honest old general’s office in fear.
“Lieutenant Karl?” Martin looked at one of the youths in astonishment—he wore a uniform, but over it was a luxurious silk shirt.
“Hmph, you filthy army parasites, kneel before me!”
Bang!
The youth saw Martin, as if he’d seen a lifeline, and tried to beg for mercy, but couldn’t even utter a sound before being crushed into silence by the terrifying aura emanating from Colonel Reyn.
“Parasites… So that’s how it is.” Martin, troubled, rubbed his eyes, then picked up his reading glasses from the desk. Under the lamp, the thin lenses reflected a deeply thoughtful face.
“Our internal investigation found you were the one responsible for the abnormal depletion of war supplies?”
Martin stood up from his chair.
“It’s not just him, there’s a whole lot more: the cavalry, Logistics, Engineers, Scouts, hell, even the Military Police Corps has fallen.”
Colonel Reyn shook his head in frustration. “Old man, it looks like it’s time we cleaned house.”
Though his tone was calm, an endless killing intent was hidden in his words.
Old Martin gave it some thought without voicing any objection. “Not long ago, I heard someone report—the quartermaster has already been executed by Your Highness?”
“Strictly speaking, it was that white-haired… that Mister Green.”
Colonel Reyn glanced at the “Bard” who was quietly writing on a parchment scroll, then hesitantly corrected the information.
“Mister Green.” Martin turned and looked at this man of unknown origin who, upon arrival, had overturned the entire order of the fortress.
“I just mulled over your strategic plan. Hm, it is indeed quite feasible.”
Old Martin took a sip of hot tea from his desk to moisten his throat. “But unfortunately, our fortress really doesn’t have enough people—by that, I mean people brave enough to shoulder this risk…”
“Don’t we?” Green suddenly looked up at the terrified Garrison Troopers beside him. “I think they’re rather suitable, don’t you?”
“Orders may be absolute, but I’d wager your fortress hasn’t many who’d willingly take a death mission. These men, though—they’re parasites who should be facing a dead end. They have no room to refuse, do they?”
Green stated his thoughts.
“Death Squad?” Old Martin, who had seen much in his time, quickly guessed Green’s intention. He looked at the group of Garrison Troopers, who couldn’t utter a sound but whose eyes brimmed with desperate hope—for survival.
“But how can you guarantee their loyalty?”
Martin asked quietly.
“That’s easy.”
Green waved his hand slightly.
Shua—
A series of magical runes shot directly into the chained officers and soldiers.
“Ahhh!”
The moment the runes entered their bodies, the group immediately screamed and writhed on the ground in agony.
“Soul Imprisonment?” A flash of insight crossed old Martin’s eyes. He stared at the so-called “Bard” for a long time.
That was a secret technique of the elves, and even the advanced “Magical Contract” developed by arcane science was derived from this. Yet the man before him wielded it so skillfully?
No wonder Colonel Reyn had suddenly changed his mind.
Green’s plan had many flaws, but in some ways, if “a legendary powerhouse accompanied the princess,” those flaws would instead become bait to lure the barbarian commander into the trap.
“All right.” At this point, old Martin no longer resisted. On the contrary, he seemed to have made up his mind, and nodded heavily.
“Let’s do as Her Highness wishes.”
Succeeded?
Hearing old Martin’s agreement, then seeing Colonel Reyn, who just a short time ago was at odds with her but now followed the strategy, Theresa felt everything was somewhat surreal.
Ever since she’d arrived at the fortress, Theresa had gotten used to being respected in word but almost never involved in actual decisions—a figurehead on a pedestal: pretty, but useless.
But now, everything seemed to be falling into place.
All thanks to him.
Theresa looked at the “Bard,” who always wore a faint smile and held a thick parchment to record everything at any moment.
Green.
Theresa had met many talented people in her life. Before she lost her inheritance rights, because of her violet eyes—a symbol of pure royal blood—she was always the darling of the imperial social scene.
Countless young elites did their utmost to please her, just for a slight smile.
But Theresa could always see the dark intentions behind their affable smiles. Over time, she would rather dress in military uniform and wield her father’s imperial sword, standing out from the crowd and calling herself a soldier.
She was unwilling to be just the Emperor’s beloved daughter, or a puppet for the powerful to manipulate.
But Theresa lost.
She lost to her royal brother’s schemes, to the manipulations of that cunning female mage—stripped of honor and dignity, punished to this fortress.
But now, something had quietly changed.
Faint, but undeniably real.
Pa-da.
At that moment, Old Martin opened a drawer and pulled out a finely-made military uniform.
“By the way, Princess Theresa—no, Commander-in-Chief.”
Old Martin solemnly lifted the uniform, addressing her as “Commander-in-Chief” for the first time instead of “Your Highness.” “Your dress uniform has been custom made.”
“Please put on this uniform and, in the name of the commander, order us to battle.”
Old Martin saluted solemnly.
“Mm.”
Theresa donned the uniform over her thin shirt.
Although it didn’t quite fit and clashed with her slender figure, for some reason, the instant she wore it, Theresa felt a surge of boundless strength.
Clang—
Drawing her sword, Theresa turned to the criminals bound in chains and declared, “Now then, make your choice—will you fight to the death or…”
She looked to Lieutenant Karl, the most notorious among them—who, according to evidence from the Military Police Corps, was guilty not only of embezzlement, theft, and illegal trading of supplies, but also of corruption and abuse in the towns.
“Or, like this criminal, be executed by me?”
“Wait!” Lieutenant Karl struggled violently, breaking through Reyn’s suppression and shouting, “My father is the sheriff—if you kill me, I—”
Theresa didn’t hesitate.
Images flashed in her mind of Green’s thunderous execution of the quartermaster, and how Colonel Reyn’s attitude shifted after witnessing his methods.
Green’s Parable had been right.
Justice truly was the trump card in facing strong foes.
Pfft—
The imperial sword, after so many years, was once again stained with fresh blood.
Karl’s terrified head tumbled to the floor, his blood splattering onto the other criminals.
“You are all guilty.” Theresa’s eyes held no confusion. “But, under my command, you have a chance at rebirth. The choice is yours.”
“I—I’m willing!”
Watching the severed head roll across the floor, the criminals looked at each other, then gritted their teeth and agreed eagerly.
Clang.
She sheathed the Dragon’s Tear. Theresa nodded slightly. “Then, the operation begins!”
With that, Theresa strode out of the office. “Let’s go.”
“Congratulations, Commander.” Green, following behind, glanced at the slightly exhilarated Theresa, likely her first time taking a life.
The princess’s cheeks were flushed, and her star-bright eyes shone with excitement.
“You’ve completed the first step of being a commander.”
Green encouraged her.
“It’s all because of your help.” Theresa was silent for a moment. “To persuade Old Martin and Reyn so quickly—Green, you must be quite strong, right?”
“So I’m curious.” She turned, her delicate face showing a hint of probing. “A legendary figure like you—why would you choose to follow a cast-off princess like me, who’s already lost her claim to the throne?”
Green softly plucked his harp strings.
“Although, as a Bard, I’d love to say my favorite thing is to witness a legend’s rise from nothing, that answer would sound insincere, wouldn’t it?”
With a faint smile, Green said leisurely, “Once upon a time, there was a merchant, richer than anyone, but always looked down upon for his humble origins.
“One day, he met a foreign prince held hostage. Hearing about the prince’s troubled homeland, he gave up his fortune just to help the prince return home.
“People wondered if the shrewd merchant had lost his mind.
“But the merchant only laughed and said: ‘You don’t understand—this is the greatest deal I’ve ever made.’
“Later, the prince’s homeland was thrown into turmoil again. After many twists, the prince finally took the throne.
“And the merchant, once scorned, became the new prime minister.”
After the story, Green packed up his lyre with a cheerful smile.
“So…” Theresa pondered for a while. “You want to become a prime minister, Green?”
Yawning, Green shook his head.
“No, I just want to see an interesting story unfold.”
Theresa suddenly stopped and looked at Green with utmost sincerity. “You will become a prime minister, Green, if one day I inherit the throne.”
Ah, this princess really took it seriously.
But…
“It would be a good story.”
A prime minister, second only to the emperor?
Thinking back on this simulated life quest, Green concluded, “A prime minister who began as a Bard? Could there be a higher level of legend?”
In any case, Green was truly looking forward to witnessing, with his own eyes, the day that pure-hearted girl ascended the throne.