Chapter 103 103

Chapter 103 103


When officers and soldiers grow weary of the waiting, they usually gather to smoke, occasionally chatting about the latest events. This process is a form of entertainment, but most of the time it is merely the officers’ entertainment—ordering subordinates to divulge colleagues’ secrets or reveal shameful past deeds, laughing at their embarrassment. Major Dolon, however, didn't do this. He found it boring, so he simply smoked.

But someone insisted on talking to him. The chaplain sat down in the gravel beside him, looking solemn, reminiscent of the numb bookworms the Major once knew in school.
"Major, you’ve made me do the work of the devil."
The Major was unfazed by the accusation: "Come off it. If killing this few makes us devils, then the front lines are crawling with them. We rely on devils to win, to hoard wealth, and to elevate our people’s status. The whole nation thrives on devils; the Queen even grants titles of nobility to those who serve her interests this way. I respect you, but please, wash your eyes and see reality."

The chaplain’s expression remained grim. He had the intellect to refute the Major, but he knew any debate would be futile.
"You have your logic, but it’s a fact that you went against your initial word. When I joined this operation, I thought we were just bringing people to prison, not firing guns."
"Prison? You don't think we could achieve our goals through peace, do you?" The Major took a deep drag, blowing smoke from his nose and teeth like a legendary dragon. The quality of the tobacco drew envious stares from nearby soldiers. "The people behind these thugs are ruthless. If we only robbed them but let them live, we’d be the ones in real trouble."

"That makes no sense. If their bosses are ruthless, won't killing their men make us easier targets for retaliation?"
The Major pinched his cigarette. He disliked explaining himself, but the chaplain had been assigned by the Church and had worked hard.
"Chaplain, if I stood before you as a soldier and a beggar stood beside me, and someone accused one of us of stealing, who would you think committed the crime if neither of us spoke?" He tapped the ash onto the ground.

The answer was simple, but the chaplain hesitated. In common perception, the poor were more likely to commit crimes, but Church doctrine forbade judging by appearance.
"I would need to observe your behavior before making a judgment."
"That’s one way," the Major nodded. "And what if we both pleaded our cases?"
The chaplain’s answer remained unchanged: "Even if you both spoke, I would need to ask questions to distinguish lies."
"Excellent. What if one of us pleaded our case while the other remained silent?"
"I suppose the one who remained silent is the thief, as he doesn't state what he did," the chaplain said uncertainly.

Clap! The Major flicked the cigarette butt away, clapped his hands, and jumped to his feet, spreading his arms with the tunnel of corpses behind him.
"Exactly! Now look at us and these bodies. Who is the silent party here? Who can defend themselves?"
The chaplain suddenly understood. He wanted to stand, but ultimately didn't. "You are a total bastard!"
"Call it what you want. As long as our mouths can speak, there’s always a way to resolve things. Yes, their bosses will come after us, but that doesn't matter. We aren't like those small-town citizens trying to make a living. The military is the safest place on earth. As long as we have a valid reason to avoid direct reprimand, everything here becomes irrelevant."

"And who would protect you?"
"Those who believe they will do worse things than we have in the future. If they don't speak for us, they’ll be embarrassed later. Chaplain, just you wait; the real fire hasn't even started yet."
Major Dolon leaned over and patted the chaplain’s shoulder. "So stop being angry. These people are dead, but their death is for the best for everyone."

The chaplain looked into Dolon’s brown eyes—they didn't look like the eyes of a middle-aged man; the flames of ambition were burning fiercely within. He had heard the officer was an outsider, a noble warrior retired from the harshest colonial fronts, who, out of habit, lived in a state of constant war readiness even in the peaceful city of Sasha. Now, he had finally gotten his wish.

The chaplain turned his head away in fear: "I will remain silent before the Bishop, but you should worry about those constables—those beasts disguised as civilization."
"Worry about what?" the Major asked with a grin. "They won't do anything. They haven't been beasts for a long time; animals tamed by civilization have lost the ability to forage in the wild. Their peacetime business makes money faster than I can rob people. If I weren't already a noble, I’d be tempted to try the Dark Moon’s curse myself."

The chaplain found such flippant remarks repulsive. "Do not speak lightly of such things."
The Major shrugged, just as a voice came from behind him.
"Major Dolon."
He turned to see the head of the constables. The man had a new scar on his face since they last met, but he was still the same honest bastard.
"Clayton."
"Major, I have some confidential matters to ask you privately. Do you have a moment?"
"Confidential?" The Major smirked, smoothing back his blond hair. Because he had just 'persuaded' the chaplain, he was in a high mood and didn't mind hearing the monster's request. He adjusted his holster. "Fine, where shall we whisper?"
"This way."

They walked into the tunnel until they were sure no one could overhear them.
"Alright, speak your piece."
The Major leaned against the wall, hands on his hips.
Then, a fist slammed heavily into his stomach. There was almost no sound. The Major’s body curled up, a low "ugh" escaping his throat. Clayton didn't follow up, simply standing there watching him.

"You’re no ordinary man, it seems." The Major soon adapted. As he doubled over, he used his left hand against the wall to shove himself back, pulling his pistol. However, he saw Clayton wasn't attacking like a madman but standing still.
He spat on the ground, his eyes locked on Clayton: "Are you fucking crazy? You asked me here just to throw that punch?"
"Not at all. My goal was to make you throw up. If you weren't so sturdy, that one punch would have been enough."
The Major’s eyes flickered: "You were a soldier, too. You know the consequences of attacking a commissioned officer."
"I don't see any consequences," Clayton said coldly. "The soldiers probably don't know that the local constabulary is run by the Darkborn, do they? Do you want to blow your cover?"

The Major realized Clayton had figured it out. Clayton had realized that the Major’s order to collect the lamps was to hide the truth from the soldiers—that their official allies were the very monsters they were told to hunt. The Major cursed under his breath and holstered his pistol.
"The reason?"
"Your actions make me feel disgusted."
"I thought I explained it well enough. Are you not satisfied with my explanation?"
"You explained it too well," Clayton said, with zero trace of a compliment. "I want to refute you, but I can't find the words, which makes me angry. Also, I’m certain your actions are wrong, and everything is past the point of no return. I do have official questions, but that can wait until you’re done vomiting."

Mr. Stepan’s corpse had proven that this massacre was indiscriminate. Clayton hated that—a man-made natural disaster.
"I now believe you were an excellent soldier," the Major said sincerely. This was a true military style! Seeing Clayton’s stance, he became intrigued. Observing this monster’s fighting style would be useful for a future duel, and he hadn't had a good fight in a long time.
"So, is this a boxing match?"
"Not a boxing match. I’m just using boxing," Clayton told him seriously. "You do whatever you want, but I guarantee you’ll vomit."
The Major stopped smiling. "You know, officers can choose to become transcendents, and nobles are born into this world of power. You don't have to be a monster like you to be strong." He tossed his coat aside, his muscles swelling, filling his shirt. "I am both a noble and an officer. You are trying to stand against two different paths of transcendent power. Let me see if you have the ability."