Chapter 3: I didn’t want to do this either (3)

As usual, it was a day spent organizing the list of supplies to be sent to the rear and contemplating how to withdraw each unit in sequence.

“Ha… damn upper management.”

There are as many as 70,000 troops tied up on the northern front. A whopping 70,000. Even by the standards of the Korean military, that’s the size of an entire corps.

It’s no easy task to withdraw while maintaining as many of them as possible.

If we were to retreat all at once without thinking, we’d be hit by a full-scale enemy offensive and be done for. If we move too slowly while being cautious, we’ll likely be discovered soon enough.

I had to hand over the front line with minimal losses, at the right pace and in the proper order.

It goes without saying, but doing anything in moderation—doing it right—is the hardest part. No one knows where that balance point is.

The commander-in-chief, who should have been in charge of this, is the embodiment of incompetence, so his mere presence is a hindrance. In the end, I had to prepare everything myself.

As I was deep in thought, suddenly my subordinates swarmed into my tent, causing a ruckus.

“General Roitel! Are you inside?!”

“What’s going on here? I told you to go take care of your units.”

“We’ve heard some terrible rumors. Is it true that the reason we’re retreating is because of the queen?”

Damn it. I told them to keep quiet about it. Could Kaiss have been spreading it around?

I barely managed to stiffen my expression and asked where they had heard the news.

“Who said that?”

“A friend who works at the command center hinted at it. They said the royal family suddenly demanded a budget cut and a reduction of the front line.”

“We’ve also heard rumors that the queen spent a huge amount of money buying jewelry. It’s already all over the capital.”

…

Shit. All my warnings to keep it secret were for nothing. The news must have already spread among the public.

Was it because this was such a harsh land that the message took so long to reach us?

Considering they had gathered internal information through connections and pieced it together themselves, they were probably already almost certain about it.

Arguing against the truth when the answer is already clear would only make me more suspicious, so I decided to simply acknowledge the facts.

“…Yeah. The queen needed money to buy a tiara, so there’s not enough budget left for the army. That’s why they’re pulling us back to save money.”

“Goddamn it! Are they all out of their minds?!”

“Why the hell have we been enduring this hell to protect this place?!”

The soldiers and officers of the North, including myself, were the veterans who fought in the toughest conditions across the entire kingdom. Once assigned to this region, half of us didn’t survive before the end of our service, but we were the ones who made it through.

We didn’t leave our posts or get reassigned to other units. We had no choice but to dig in and fight to the bitter end.

Because of this, our attachment to this region, our stubbornness to succeed, and our pride in serving the nation were all deeply rooted.

Hearing that we were being driven out because of the royal family’s foolishness, we were all immediately enraged.

The atmosphere was tense, with soldiers openly spouting words that would get them arrested for blasphemy if uttered in the capital.

“If there’s no money, we should’ve given up on other fronts and focused on this one! Why abandon this natural fortress?!”

“We’ve built hundreds of bunkers on that snowfield! Our engineers bled to make them! Are we just going to leave all that behind and run away?!”

“If that’s the case, they should’ve ordered the retreat from the beginning! Why waste lives here for nothing?!”

As the deputy commander, it was my duty to stop their insubordination and enforce punishment, but for some reason, I didn’t feel like doing it.

I hadn’t lost.

Though I didn’t say it outright, we were all thinking more or less the same thing—myself included.

It was just that, for the sake of appearances and face, we were all holding back from expressing it publicly.

“Don’t you feel wronged, sir? We’ve been through over ten years of hell, and now it’s all for nothing.”

“You’ve been fighting here the longest. You must be the most upset.”

“…I’m pissed off too, you bastards. But what can we do about it?”

I sighed and lowered my head. I understood their anger completely, but there was nothing I could do to respond to their resentment.

Even as a three-star general, in the end, I was still lower in rank compared to the parachutists. I had no power, no connections, to help them, or to overturn the king’s orders.

“Even if I protest and get worked up, nothing’s going to change.”

The soldiers sighed in frustration.

Despite their grumbling, they knew it too. We were basically being forced to obey without any real options.

“Alright, go back. Cool down and rest. We’ll talk about this again tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, they nodded, saluted, and left.

As I watched their backs in their shabby blue uniforms, I couldn’t help but feel they looked even more pathetic today. I lit another cigarette.

Maybe it was because there was no filter, but the taste of the tobacco in this world was so harsh.

Though I had managed to calm my officers’ discontent, I had an even more serious and pressing issue at hand.

What was it?

The retreat operation was still on hold.

It was complicated, but I had roughly outlined the plan. With just a little more work, it could be finished.

The morale of the soldiers was still manageable for now.

Although the news of the retreat had caused some confusion, the truth hadn’t spread yet. As long as I spread a few rumors or fabricated stories, it wouldn’t be too hard to calm things down.

The real problem was my future.

‘I don’t think I’ll last much longer in the military.’

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t see any hope of being promoted or having my achievements recognized. A few months ago, there was a chance, but not now. Thanks to that damn king’s orders, my career was completely ruined.

King Charles VII, that fool, probably issued the retreat order just to save money, but from the military’s perspective, it was a disaster.

Announcing victory or defeat and taking responsibility for them is solely the responsibility of the military.

Even if we lose territory because of the king’s orders, the military is the one that must bear the blame in the eyes of the public.

The story must always be that the military made a mistake, causing the loss of land and forcing a retreat.

But what if no one made a mistake?

Then I’d have to fabricate something. I’d change the records and frame someone as the scapegoat. I’ve seen that kind of thing countless times during my time in the hellish military.

Once someone decides to make a scapegoat, they’ll use every means at their disposal to turn that person into the most despised bastard in the world—it’s as easy as eating soup.

“This time, I guess that scapegoat will be me…”

However, the Northern Army’s Commander was like the central figure, full of connections, much like Won Gyun. He wasn’t someone I could easily target.

That said, those with ambiguous ranks like the brigade commanders or division commanders in the Northern Army would be hard to use as scapegoats without a compelling reason.

In the end, the most likely target was me.

I held a high enough rank to be an easy scapegoat—someone who was promoted too quickly and made enemies of established generals out of jealousy. I had no political connections, so they could get rid of me without any political backlash.

That was probably how I was seen in the capital.

No matter how much I had endured and how many accomplishments I had, human emotions aren’t rational. My achievements, made through blood and sweat, would likely be completely ignored by them.

My accomplishments would be downplayed as mere luck, and my once-glorious career would be treated like a shallow, worthless facade.

That’s probably why they’d come to the conclusion that I was the perfect scapegoat to calm public opinion.

“Should I submit my resignation and strike first?”

With my future so clearly mapped out, I started considering whether I should strike back in advance. If I resigned before the attack came, maybe the backlash would be less harsh. I’d be able to keep my military pension, too.

“Or maybe I should just go crazy and blame the commander?”

I also considered the idea of gathering journalists and making it known that the Northern Army Commander was responsible for the whole mess, but quickly dismissed it. It felt like a self-destructive move.

If I risked my reputation, I might as well give them a final slap in the face, but the side effects would be huge. That petty bastard would definitely try to destroy me even if I resigned.

Once I lost my status as an officer, I’d be unable to fight back and would be totally powerless.

If I got screwed over, fine, but I couldn’t let my family back home suffer too. That, I couldn’t forgive.

Ah, I suddenly want to see my family again. I haven’t seen them in over ten years, and now their faces are starting to blur.

‘Life really sucks.’

I worked hard to become a major general, fought to protect my country, and now the end result is betrayal.

I understand it in my head, but it still feels terrible. It’s like my patriotism is vanishing in real time.

If I could go back in time, I would have chosen to be a beggar, but I would never have become a soldier again.

Sigh… Well, I should sleep for now.

I’ve been thinking too much, and it’s already late. If I’m going to reassure my subordinates and finish the work, I’ll need to rest up for tomorrow.

However, the next day, things began to unfold in a completely different direction than I expected.

“Major General, I’ll be direct. How about we overthrow this country together?”

I gave them some time to calm down, and they were preparing a coup.