9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 143 - Choice and Focus (5)

We crossed the gates and entered the city.

The streets were eerily empty without a trace of human presence, and not even a single rat could be seen.

“What the hell? How can there be absolutely no one like this?”

I muttered while clutching my dizzy head.

I still couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened.

The magic of this world that I’d witnessed thus far had operated reasonably, logically, and familiarly.

They used machines that ran on magic spells, powered by mana stones as a resource.

How easy to understand.

But suddenly some archmage straight out of a fantasy movie appeared, then got killed by monsters with even more transcendent abilities.

How was I supposed to accept this?

‘I don’t know anymore.’

I sighed imperceptibly and turned to look at the Ferint commander.

Though he wore the same white uniform and mask as the other knights with no distinguishing insignia, he was the largest in build, making him easy to identify.

“Excuse me, hmm, I have a request. You are…”

“Please call me Michael.”

The commander quietly corrected me.

Ever since I first met Damier, I’d noticed that this monotonous, characterless voice was Ferint’s defining trait.

“Very well, Michael.”

I nodded readily. It was probably an alias anyway.

“Did His Excellency the Supreme Leader give any instructions regarding what to do after the city fell?”

“No.”

“Then what are Ferint’s future plans?”

“There’s no reason to inform you, Commander.”

How rude.

But I wasn’t the least bit angry. I was just trying to get my stiffened brain working again.

“That’s understandable. I wasn’t trying to pry into classified information. I just have one request.”

I looked out at the completely quiet streets.

The lined shops had not a single item on display, and every house’s doors and windows were tightly shut.

There were clearly signs of life, but people and belongings had all vanished—a bizarre scene.

Unless all those people had simultaneously evaporated, this had to be Pontinell’s strategy.

“Would you help search the city? I’ll need to take soldiers and comb through every corner soon, but someone might escape before then. I’d be grateful if you could lend us Ferint’s abilities.”

At my straightforward request, Commander Michael nodded briefly.

“Everyone, search for survivors.”

“Ah, don’t take their lives. We need to get information through prisoners.”

I casually added. The Ferint immediately scattered like lightning, melting into the alleyways.

“I’ll accompany you, Commander.”

Michael’s words were tantamount to openly announcing he’d be watching me.

“You can tie up my hands and feet and carry me around for all I care.”

I no longer had any intention of dying anyway.

The search proceeded faster than expected.

The city wasn’t particularly large, and the Ferint were incredibly fast.

Before sunset, while I was leisurely examining buildings one by one with Commander Michael and Captain Himmel, a report came in.

“Thirteen corpses discovered in a civilian house near the south gate.”

The reporting knight was Appel Damier, supposedly the fastest among Ferint.

A truly ordinary house in an ordinary neighborhood.

The garden grass had grown wild from long neglect, and the front door hung crooked on broken hinges where Damier had smashed it.

I could see a neatly organized living room. The kitchen showed signs of cooking from just a few hours earlier.

“Hmm.”

I touched the leaves of a plant by the window. Still moist.

Going up to the second floor revealed an ordinary bedroom and study.

“Here.”

Damier spoke slowly and kicked the bottom of the bookcase with his foot. As the bookcase wobbled and toppled over, a small, bleak secret room was revealed.

Male and female corpses huddled together in the center of the room.

Their long hair scattered on the cold wooden floor and pale-as-death skin looked almost pitiful.

Carefully approaching and bending down to examine them, I saw they all had bulging eyes and faces turned blue with horror.

“They drank poison.”

I searched the room thoroughly for any clues but found nothing. Even their clothes were completely ordinary everyday wear, and their pockets were empty.

‘But it’s obvious without looking. Modern scorched-earth tactics, something like that.’

During the roughly two weeks we’d been stationed at the border lake, held up by the mage, and waiting for Ferint support.

In that time, the Pontinell government would have evacuated all the residents. At the same time, they’d have stripped away all useful goods and resources and moved them to other regions.

These corpses—what could they be?

The battlefield plain was south of the castle. This was the residential area closest to the south gate.

Reasoning why they were gathered here specifically, the answer comes easily.

‘Nine times out of ten, personnel to support the mages. Special forces? A suicide squad?’

They’d probably been conducting operations together with the mages, then when the city fell, they poisoned themselves to avoid giving up information.

They’d been prepared to die defending the city from the start.

“The corpses.”

Michael, who had been watching me ransack the room, spoke up.

“We’ll take them. We need to report to the homeland.”

His tone was as bureaucratic as a civil servant.

“Do that.”

They’d be autopsied down to every cell, but there was no point getting indignant about desecrating the dead now.

“I’ll leave them to you.”

I turned and left the secret room.

***

That night the garrison was moved inside the city walls, and a party was held to celebrate victory.

“Hahaha! This is all thanks to His Excellency the Supreme Leader’s wisdom! Ferint, indeed! Without such bold determination, we would have struggled quite a bit!”

In the ornate banquet hall of the city hall we’d decided to use as headquarters, the chief of staff gleefully shouted with his forehead gleaming under the chandelier light.

He hadn’t even had a few drinks yet, but his face was already flushed red.

“Right, everything’s thanks to His Excellency.”

I mechanically agreed while downing lemon juice instead of alcohol.

All that remained in this city were empty buildings, and the telegraph and railway lines had been cut.

I knew this wasn’t the time to be celebrating so extravagantly.

But that was only if I had any intention of winning this war.

‘What’s Pontinell’s next objective?’

The Pontinell government had achieved their strategic goal. They’d tied up the Schufaben army’s feet for quite some time, buying precious time.

Thanks to the perfect evacuation of residents, Pontinell’s casualties were only 63 mages and 13 support personnel.

Schufaben’s casualties numbered over 13,000.

Of course, considering that one mage was irreplaceable human resources that couldn’t be traded for even 10,000 ordinary infantry, this was clearly Schufaben’s victory.

But I couldn’t treat human lives as mere numbers like that. Not yet.

Anyway…

‘Are these mages really all there are?’

I wondered how many mages were standing by in the capital.

While I was lost in deep thought, a displeased voice suddenly rang out.

“So does that mean all this is Ferint’s achievement, Chief of Staff?”

At Deputy Commander Eisler’s words, the atmosphere turned chilly.

“We only lacked time and supplies—the army could have handled this just fine.”

“Of course.”

The chief of staff was sweating profusely under the tiger-like deputy commander’s pressure.

I watched the two men with interest.

The chief of staff was just a simple, honest person, but this was the first time I’d seen Eisler like this.

‘I just thought he was a Supreme Leader fanboy.’

Well, a military academy valedictorian would naturally have deep affection for the army too.

‘Lieutenant General Eisler. Which is stronger—your loyalty to the Supreme Leader or your love for the army? Could I use that?’

I briefly fell into thought, then set down my glass and stepped forward.

“We achieved victory thanks to His Excellency the Supreme Leader. That’s right. But that doesn’t mean our army’s efforts need to be diminished. Chief of Staff, you’ve had too much to drink. Stop drinking. And Deputy Commander, don’t say things that spoil the mood either.”

“My apologies.”

Eisler bowed his head slightly and withdrew.

“Come on, we opened this gathering to enjoy ourselves lightly anyway, so let’s disperse. Keep the soldiers in line.”

At my words, the staff officers and officers gradually cleared up and withdrew.

After everything became quiet, I glanced out the window.

Thanks to quartering by platoons in civilian houses, lights twinkled throughout the entire city.

The journalists, freed from confinement, were probably excitedly running around among those lights conducting interviews.

“Come out, Damier.”

I said while closing the window and turning around. A person dropped down from above a chandelier in a corner of the banquet hall that had been turned off to save mana stones.

“How did you know?”

Damier, who had landed soundlessly, asked.

“Simple deduction. Commander Michael would have told you to monitor me.”

After collecting the corpses, Ferint had disappeared somewhere. They said they wouldn’t withdraw immediately but I didn’t know where they’d gone.

But I’d figured someone would remain to watch me, and I was right.

“Tell Commander Michael this. The reason I tried to die in battle was because there was no way to escape, but now it’s different. I have no reason to die now.”

“Yes.”

Damier answered concisely.

***

A few hours earlier.

While officers and soldiers were all frantically busy moving the garrison.

I was holed up in my office, trembling with rage and fear.

Kruger, how far did you predict this?

Did you know I’d wait for Ferint to be annihilated even if it meant throwing away my own life?

I’d been planning to let Schufaben’s forces get devastated.

Without Ferint, there was absolutely no way to strike at the mages Pontinell had lovingly cultivated, so the war would drag on and Kruger would inevitably fall.

Moreover, if I—the commander, national hero, and rallying point—died, tremendous chaos would ensue.

That would have been my way to kill Kruger and help Queen Marianne I.

But Kruger forcibly kept me alive.

Ferint had the ability to survive the archmage’s attack anyway. The reason he didn’t just let me die was…

‘No.’

I’d tried countless times to follow Kruger’s thought process. Eventually I could reach one conclusion.

‘Does he think even this is an act?’

Kruger doesn’t understand me.

He misunderstands that I simply want to reach the pinnacle of power.

So something like me committing suicide couldn’t happen. I had to stay alive to enjoy power.

In that case, Kruger…

‘Lucas Redan puts on a show of risking death to threaten the Supreme Leader. That’s what he figured.’

If I tried to die, Kruger would have to stop me no matter what. The people would waver. And he wouldn’t be able to use me anymore.

So Kruger would have anticipated it.

That I’d definitely put myself in danger during the war. That I’d confirm my position once again like that.

‘Hey bastard, you have no choice but to save me, right? Who loses out if I die?’

Such a childish threat.

I almost burst out laughing.

‘This is too complicated. Is this real?’

In Kruger’s eyes, I’m the embodiment of desire. Someone who’d create a rebel organization, self-harm, and commit heinous crimes just to gain power.

So Kruger sending Ferint to save me was a kind of message.

‘You’re this important a person. I’ll never eliminate you. So shut up and just fight the war well.’

From Kruger’s perspective, this was a piece of theater where we read each other’s minds and moved accordingly.

‘Think whatever you want.’

I really had tried to die, but since that was out the window, it was better to let him misunderstand. Ironically.

‘I need to revise my plan.’

Now that I knew Ferint was far more powerful than I’d imagined, I needed to find a new method.

I looked at Damier while pouring myself more lemon juice.

“Want some juice?”

I thought he’d refuse, but Damier glided over and accepted the glass. Then he took something round from his pocket, unwrapped it, and plopped it into the juice.

Damier, who downed the juice in one gulp, looked straight at me.

“Why do you live?”

“Because I can’t die.”

When I answered blankly, he nodded. Then he took out what looked like another candy and chewed it. A familiar, strange smell wafted over.

“Why are you curious about that?”

“Orders from above.”

I chuckled.

“You can lie if you want. I answered one of yours, so you should answer one of mine.”

I approached Damier, who had somehow moved away.

“Your arm.”

He extended his arm without resistance or question. He probably believed he could subdue me no matter what I did.

Instead of the white uniform, Damier wore simple black clothes. I pulled off his black glove and rolled up his sleeve.

Even in the dim light, I could see it was covered with mottled bruises.

‘Injection marks…’

Damier’s expressionless face looked gaunt with sunken cheeks.

“That’s canil, isn’t it?”

I gestured toward the candy dissolving and bubbling in the new glass of lemon juice.

“Is it for combat? As a painkiller? Some kind of mana aftereffect?”

“Ask only one question.”

Damier replied dryly while downing the juice.

“Right, do the other knights take canil too, besides you?”

I wondered if he’d answer, but he nodded briefly.

‘So this isn’t even classified.’

I laughed bitterly.

There was definitely excruciating pain after combat.

Probably from severely overtaxing mana or something like that. Why else would they be called archmages? They’re archmages because they can expend tremendous mana and still be fine.

Those who fall short—for example, I’d heard that mages working ordinary research jobs live on stimulants like coffee. To forget fatigue and pain.

Ferint would be even worse.

‘Well of course. There’s no way such ridiculous power comes without a price. Those guys won’t last long!’

That thought struck me. I suppressed my twitching lips and released Damier’s arm.

Then I deliberately put on an anxious expression and whispered.

“Got any more? I ran out of what I brought from home.”

“Removal is prohibited by the commander’s orders. I’ll report to the commander.”

“Please do.”

I needed to put on a bit of an addict’s act too.