The Assassination War (15)

An unprecedented incident where the CEO of a major corporation survived an assassination attempt within the metropolitan center.

Unsurprisingly, Londinium had never witnessed any comparable occurrences.

Publishing such unredacted accounts would have effectively branded the “Demons are covertly infiltrating the city” conspiracy theories with stamps of validation. It could have also painfully rekindled the citizenry’s traumatic memories from the Demons’ previous urban rampages.

Yet Freugne had ultimately subdued that preceding chaos, and ample experience invariably cultivates proficiency over time.

If even neighborhood tutors could wax philosophical after three years, then someone thrice that tenure should have attained at least a reasonably literate eloquence.

“In any case, a single day’s indiscretion can be overlooked. You mentioned only a handful of subordinates had noticed, correct?”

“Yes, they all possess discretions hefty enough to remain naturally reticent without separate directives.”

“Excellent. Regarding the Earl’s absence… Let’s disseminate that he has departed on urgent business matters. Ah, and you’re aware of the resolution with Marshal Bauder about the meeting hall incident?”

“Only a single line in some obscure newspaper column will allude to that entire debacle.”

Media suppression represented a skill as instinctive as breathing.

Some secrets simply remained better off unknown to the world.

The explosion at the council chambers had been vaguely attributed to reckless arcane experimentations by overzealous, hormonal apprentice mages from a nearby academy.

With scarcely any police witnesses and Marshal Bauder retroactively fabricating plausible coverup narratives, the incident’s unsavory details had been adequately obscured.

As for the Earl of Norton, the victim央entralry embroiled:

“My apologies.”

Having narrowly escaped every conceivable torture short of the marquis’ traditional agonies before his deliverance from hell’s precipice, he had spent days without respite incessantly hounding Edan. Edan had felt compelled to install a green screen backdrop.

“To what are you referring?”

“For my dereliction of overarching responsibilities.”

The Earl’s cerebrum housed greater informational reserves than most parliamentarians rolling in bureaucratic quagmires.

Loath as he might be to admit it, he remained one of the organization’s original coterie – privy to more insider secrets than outward obliviousness.

He represented one of Freugne’s gambits for indirectly maneuvering the military apparatus, inevitably compromising confidential martial intelligence during his interrogative debrievement.

And if the Earl’s predicament resembled carelessly contracting a computer virus by indiscriminately accessing files, the police force bore culpability for allowing such viruses to roam unimpeded within the city’s boundaries.

By that rationale, Marshal Bauder could be implicated for dereliction in upholding civic security and firewall duties.

Alongside the coughing, cane-assisted Earl emanated the haunted, shadowed visage of the Marshal like some spectral poltergeist duo.

“I appear ill-suited for this position – the wages of donning vestments exceeding my station.”

“…….”

“Here, please accept this.”

Perusing the proffered letter, Edan promptly shredded it, denying their resignations.

Flabbergasted, the Earl and Marshal thrice demurred before ultimately acquiescing, overwhelmed by their leader’s merciful reinstatements while shedding chicken-feather-light tears of gratitude.

“Do you repent regarding this incident?”

“Yes, without question.”

“Then let us proceed diligently.”

A condensed performance encapsulating that general narrative unfolded.

While their interminable, circumlocutory exchanges had proven verbosely protracted, stripping away the superfluous ornamentation essentially reduced it to those three succinct lines of dialogue.

Seasoned commanders should not recklessly gamble their troops during wartime – and with insufficient temporal resources to cultivate replacements, dismissing the abundantly experienced Earl and Marshal proved imprudent.

In such contingencies, empirical expertise at contingency management represented invaluable, irreplaceable assets. Blind fortune offered inadequate reassurances, while precognitive projections necessitated diverting attentions towards other informational breaches.

And after several days had elapsed, the repercussions from that incident manifested tangibly.

While domestic bliss like marriages or childbirths represented wonderful developments, avoiding the “extinct species” moniker required prioritizing imminent existential imperatives.

“Londinium has just relayed an urgent message. The intended recipient is… General Andre?”

“Is that so? Let me see it.”

A communique had been dispatched from Londinium.

And from that day onwards, the campfires of General Andre – whose recaptured prewar territories had emboldened him with euphoric hubris – burned incessantly.

“Our strategies have been revised.”

“Pardon?”

“Disregard all our previously formulated operations. No, consider implementing the exact opposite courses instead.”

“But we had summoned every available officer, subsisting on four consecutive sleep-deprived days and nights while devising those plans – likely accumulating even less slumber than the frontline grunts.”

“Then feel free to drag those very grunts along into the afterlife as well.”

“…Could someone have leaked the intelligence?”

“Otherwise, would we be enacting such drastic contingencies? I too feel utterly perplexed. Summon that previous personnel roster anew, but convey that no further expectations should be harbored henceforth.”

While the warning had been swiftly disseminated, such gargantuan military institutions could not adapt with commensurate alacrity to abruptly revised directives overnight.

Intoxicated by their reclaimed republican territories, the emboldened troops now confronted scenarios where mere loincloth attires would suffice for forthcoming frontal assaults against the Demons.

“Over here! The human vermin are lying in ambush at this location!”

“Wh-What? How did they discern our positioning…?!”

“How delightfully exposed you leave yourselves – let’s go, my brethren!”

The frontline commanders belatedly receiving these tactical updates could only futilely collapse as the Demons, comprehending their deployments with crystalline clarity, initiated their offensives.

And across all war fronts, this incident had inevitably engulfed Ulric Erin’s battalion as well.

***** ity yearned for heroic saviors.

Appearing as if awaited during crisis to resolve every tribulation – how wondrous it would be if such transcendent paragons existed.

And across all eras, people had lauded those rising courageously amidst adversities as ‘heroes.’

Pedantically, they might have been more accurately dubbed ‘prospective heroes’ until vanquishing the Demon Sovereign. But needlessly invoking semantics over the term ‘hero’ risked branding oneself as obliviously insensitive.

In any case, having emblematic war heroes conferred symbolic valorizations, inspiring appropriate pride and morale boosts – their idolized visages even adorning national bonds for public revenue fundraising.

Neither the martial kingdoms nor republics orchestrating these conflicts had particularly compelling reasons to refrain from deliberately promoting selected soldiers or officers.

Hence, units with reasonably distinguished military exploits often circulated hopeful advertisements about potentially producing ‘heroic’ titleholders from their ranks.

After all, youths tended to harbor such romanticized fantasies about such honorifics.

“Hearken! We currently stand at the vanguard’s forefront, stationed at the most perilous locales surpassing all others.”

“Yet this itself serves as testament to our unparalleled valor in combat, shouldering the pioneering mantle of reclaiming the Republic’s first territorial acquisitions!”

“You all witnessed the Pfalzian forces’ craven retreats amidst their cowering lamentations. Should we emulate their disgraceful example, our mockery would become richly deserved.”

Among the designated warfront vanguards occupying the most treacherous battlezones, a specific battalion had distinguished itself as preeminently suited for that prestigious role.

While their disproportionately elevated survival rates inevitably bred seasoned veterans, their mandate hardly entailed dynamically aerially inserting into Demon strongholds akin to paratroopers.

Their duties remained fundamentally grounded combat operations.

Originally intended as mere numerical reinforcements for the front ranks, their inexplicable propensity for effortlessly shattering obstructing Demon contingents had proven remarkably anomalous.

And by the time they had regained their lucidity…

They had somehow become anointed as national war heroes on the homefront.

“The Kingdom places immense expectations upon you all.”

“Pardon? Upon us?”

“Perhaps a true hero may even emerge from your ranks.”

“Pardon me??”

“Go forth, and return only in victory!!”

“And someone retrieve Private Ulric while you’re at it! That layabout seems to be slacking off again.”

Excepting that one individual.

Judging from their bloodstained, dust-caked returns after every engagement, they had clearly refrained from simply reversing their advances towards the rear.

Yet no one had actually witnessed their dedicated participations either.

Despite never exhibiting facial wounds suggesting close-quarters skirmishes upon each return, Ulric remained conspicuously absent from commencement till conclusion of those battles.

If selectively assassinating only the Demon commanders, then his absences proved understandable. But Ulric himself harbored no intentions of advancing his military ranks either.

Promotions would only attract unnecessary aggravations. What prestige could a mere officer attain amidst these malodorous, dilapidated frontlines?

“The Demons’ movements seem rather peculiar…”

“Soldiers need only unquestioningly obey their superiors’ commands. And ultimately, did their judgments not prove accurate?”

“Fair point, but something feels distinctly amiss about this particular operation……”

“We cannot afford to err based on mere hunches.”

“Understood, sir. I shall commence preparations imminently.”

Roused from his indolent slumbers by the escalating commotion preceding an imminent engagement, Ulric sluggishly opened his eyes.

At the periphery of his vision, well-trained Demon forces steadily advanced into view.