“Master! Master Kael!!”
The first person to greet me upon my return from the Pavilion region was, of course, our dear Alexei.
He had insisted on following me wherever I went, but I talked some sense into him.
I did take him along when we clashed with Nobogorod, but that was closer to a violent skirmish than an actual war. Now, we’re talking about a massive war where at least five Imperial Legions have been mobilized. And unlike before when I was just tagging along with no real responsibilities, things have changed.
“For heaven’s sake, look at your face! You’ve clearly not been eating properly! Haven’t I told you a thousand times that even if the military food isn’t the greatest, you still need to eat regularly?”
“Uh, no. I haven’t skipped any meals. I’ve been eating just fine.”
Sure, the imperial army’s cuisine isn’t to the level of our family’s exclusive kitchen staff, but it’s pretty decent. That’s one reason the Imperial Legion boasts some of the best combat capability on the continent: they make sure their soldiers are always fed well, which is a basic but crucial way to gauge how soldiers feel about their treatment. It’s simple—if you don’t know what kind of food you’ll get each day, you won’t have much pride in your role. A soldier, by obligation alone, can’t keep going without that pride, whether drafted or enlistee—it’s essential.
‘Some people out there think good food isn’t that big of a deal, but they need a taste of that dried anchovy and plastic-packed instant meal to change their mind. That’s when they’ll realize how eating well can inspire pride.’
Anyway, I’ve never skipped a meal. Someone from the Klawitz family throwing a tantrum about side dishes in an army camp? That would be the day our ancestors would rise from their graves to shout, “By the gods, we don’t turn our nose up at plain rice in this family!”
“You’ve lost weight, and look at those dark circles under your eyes!”
“No, I haven’t!”
“And were you involved in any training with the Imperial Army?”
“Seriously though, is Grandma hidden somewhere in here?”
After a somewhat rational suspicion, we resumed our normal banter.
“Is there anything else you need to take care of?”
“Could be yes, might be no.”
“You’re not going back to the eastern front, are you?”
So I guess you could say, I don’t exactly know.
As I paused, Alexei glanced around nervously and whispered, “Is this because of an order from Her Highness the Crown Princess?”
“She only mentioned wanting to meet again.”
“Then…?”
“I don’t know myself, to be honest.”
Maybe I should just hightail it outta here before it’s too late, or on the other hand, I might actually have some hidden talent. It’s all very confusing.
“Alright, let’s head to the capital. Even if we push ourselves, it’s still gonna take a while.”
“Oh dear, I do hope our Master isn’t overworking.”
“Father’s special training ensures I won’t keel over from sitting in a carriage for a bit.”
Perhaps this is why I have some resistance to being called a strategist. Strategists, at least in the public’s imagination, aren’t exactly known for their physical prowess. They’re more like burned-out office workers with all their muscles melted away, just skin and bones. The image doesn’t exactly scream “hero.”
‘But see, I’ve had personal combat training from my skeletal father. I wield a sword quite well. Calling me a strategist feels like you’re saying that doesn’t show.’
It’s kind of irritating. I worked hard on my physical strength too!
“Let’s go, Master! We’re off to the capital!”
“Yeah, thanks Alexei. Gonna need you on this too.”
One thing is for sure: Alexei’s salary needs a raise. If the master’s running all over doing the hard work, the loyal servant deserves credit too.
*
It’s been two months, almost three. The atmosphere on this return to the capital seemed far calmer than I expected.
News of the Pavilion region must have spread by now, and everyone knows about the sorry state of our so-called ‘allies.’ Yet there’s no sign of hysteria. They seem content to wait until things really get started.
It feels fitting. The empire isn’t the type to get all riled up and start celebrations prematurely. Victory is certain, that much faith they do have.
“The report on the Pavilion region was intriguing, Lord Kael.”
I snapped back to attention and looked at the Crown Princess sitting right before me. She definitely exudes charisma—a living embodiment of it.
“By the way, Belle has headed east. She plans to visit and reassure the citizens there.”
“I see.”
“Gnaius continues to seclude himself. He insisted it’s for the best, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. My younger brother can be quite difficult.”
“So I’ve gathered.”
Why is Her Highness telling me, a mere nobleman’s son, about her siblings?
I fidgeted with the teacup in front of me, too nervous to ask.
The Crown Princess smiled after watching me for a moment, then spoke.
“Lord Kael.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Are you troubled?”
It came out of nowhere, her abruptly dropping formalities, but I somehow felt she knew everything already.
“You’ve heard the saying before, I’m sure: ‘the times create great heroes.'”
She paused, letting me ponder before continuing.
“And, you see, a hero must at times be humble, but at other times, they must confidently showcase themselves. Do you know why?”
“I… don’t understand.”
“You see,” her smile deepened.
“The humility of an outstanding person doesn’t look like humility to others. It instead incites a foolish ambition in others to surpass that hero, to seize what isn’t theirs.”
“…”
“And so, great ones either rise even higher—or fall pitifully.”
“Lord Kael.” She brought our conversation back to me.
“You’d rather keep your current station, but it’s not going to be that simple. You’ve already shown who you are, what kind of person you are, and what potential you carry.”
“Your Highness’s words ring true.”
“Thus, why not simply become what people want you to be?”
I know what others think of me—that’s not the issue. It’s more like I’ve lacked self-confidence up until now. All this has only been possible so far due to sheer luck, right place, right time. Everyone chants my name now, but if I stumble, if I fall…
“Lord Kael.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“One must have the ambition to make use of the abilities they’ve been given.”
As she touched her chest, I felt an unexpected lump form in my throat.
“Having ambition isn’t about proving one deserves their talents. Rather, having ambition allows one to unlock the true potential within.”
“Ambition.” A word I thought had little to do with me.
Born the eldest son of a Duke with good fortune, surrounded by wonderful siblings, I smoothly became heir—the next Duke. And then, by more good fortune, I remembered my past life and used that knowledge to my advantage.
But I thought that was all there was. I worried I’d fail under real pressure, so I told myself to stay within these boundaries.
“Be an outstanding strategist. A brilliant counselor. Aim for those ambitions—you’re more than qualified. I personally vouch for you.”
“…”
“And if you somehow can’t live up to those ambitions later, don’t be troubled. If I vouch for you, helping you out becomes natural!”
With that, the Crown Princess burst into laughter, and I found myself smiling along uncontrollably.
“I have no intention to put a leash on you.”
After the laughter subsided, she took a sip of tea.
“I don’t want to treat you like a hunting dog lured by treats. I just want to introduce you to this concept of ambition.”
“Wouldn’t you like to make our Empire even stronger? To elevate your family to the highest pedestal? Wouldn’t you want the name ‘Kael’ to be remembered throughout history?”
It felt like a massive rock dropped into the still waters of my mind.
Ambition. Her suggestion to lift myself, my family, the Klawitz name—it was sharp, powerful. My cloudy thoughts seemed to clear up instantly.
—
The conversation reverberated, leaving me with a new sense of purpose.
