Chapter – 136…
There was nothing wrong in what Helen said.
Nothing in this world is ever as easy as it sounds.
No matter how much an enemy they are, the kidnapping or assassination of an important figure must be carried out with meticulous planning.
Blindly kidnapping or assassinating someone is never the answer.
Besides, the Raging Storm Tribe was one of the five greatest barbarian tribes, and their chieftain, Awangga, was one of the very few who held a friendly stance toward the Continentals.
And yet, not only had they brought Awangga’s son without warning, they had beaten him and even tortured him with electricity. It went without saying that the consequences would not be easy to deal with.
If the Raging Storm Tribe’s army were to attack right this moment… it was obvious what would happen.
No wonder Helen wasn’t pleased—she had every reason to look hopeless.
“This issue is beyond what we can handle on our own, Private Karlile.”
“Why?”
“This may provoke the Raging Storm Tribe into launching an aggressive campaign against the continent. Don’t tell me you kidnapped Awangga’s son without thinking anything through?”
“Well. Isn’t that right?”
“……”
Helen fell silent, as if she had nothing more to say.
Throb—throb.
Her head was starting to hurt.
“Private Karlile.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Could you please, PLEASE stay quiet for once? How on earth do you manage to cause a major incident every single day? Awangga’s son… urgh.”
Helen buried her face in her hands.
Bzzzzzt!
“Mmmff! Urrrgh! Mmmmmmfff!!”
Helen suddenly yelled toward Lieutenant Melvin.
“Lieutenant Melvin! Stop that! Do you intend to kill the prisoner?! What will you do if the prisoner dies of electrocution?! If Awangga’s son dies here, will you take responsibility?!”
“S-sorry!”
Under Helen’s furious shout, Lieutenant Melvin hastily dispersed the electric spell.
Tremble—tremble—tremble.
Malaga’s body shook like a leaf in the wind.
His eyes were rolled back, his mouth foaming white. He looked half-cooked by Melvin’s electric torture.
“Fetch the medic immediately.”
“I—I can use healing magic—”
“Silence. Go get the medic! NOW!”
“Y-yes, ma’am!”
Lieutenant Melvin bolted out the door.
“You made an excellent choice,” Karlile commented.
“And what is that supposed to mean, Private Karlile?”
“With that guy, you’re lucky if the patient survives. He’d probably cast a curse instead of a healing spell by mistake.”
“Do not insult your superior in public. You know you can be punished for insubordination.”
“Come on, Helen. You think the same, don’t you?”
“T-that is not true.”
“Really?”
“I trust Lieutenant Melvin. He may be clumsy and prone to mistakes, but I’m sure one day he will…”
Helen squeezed her eyes shut.
“…I’m sure that day will come.”
“Why are your eyes closed, then?”
“T-that’s nothing.”
Helen turned away.
“In any case, this is very serious. I must report to the battalion commander.”
“Take care.”
“And do NOT strike, torture, or insult the prisoner. If anything happens to him, we won’t be able to undo it.”
“Don’t worry and go ahead.”
“……”
“You don’t trust me?”
“…I’ll be back.”
Helen left without answering.
She simply couldn’t bring herself to say she trusted him not to beat the prisoner to death.
* * *
Meanwhile, when Chieftain Awangga of the Raging Storm Tribe heard the news, he exploded with rage.
It was infuriating enough that the Black Fang Tribe attacked the magic-stone mine, but kidnapping his son Malaga on top of that? Of course he was furious.
“Those cowardly, scheming Black-fanged vermin! They dare lay their hands on my son—on Awangga’s son—!!!”
Whoooosh!
Crash!
A whirlwind erupted around Awangga, swallowing everything inside the tent.
“C-chieftain!”
The warriors of the Raging Storm Tribe prostrated themselves with pale faces.
The gale raging from Awangga was so powerful, the sheer force of it made it impossible for them to even stay standing.
“Find him.”
Awangga said.
“Take every warrior in the tribe and bring back my son at once. If he is dead, then bring me his body. No matter what. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Chieftain!”
Before his words even finished, the tribe’s officers dashed out of the tent like lightning.
Bwooooooo!
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The horns sounded, and the earth shook beneath the marching boots of the warriors.
Thousands of warriors moved at once, perfectly aligned.
A mobilization speed no continental army could ever hope to match.
But the barbarians were nomads—always ready to move, always ready for war.
Once the order was given, they could move almost instantly and begin a campaign without delay.
Awangga did not wait for them to return with his son.
“Hold on just a little longer, my son. I will save you myself. Please… be alive.”
Unable to endure the anxiety of waiting while his son’s fate was unknown, Awangga left the camp personally.
“If anyone dares harm my son… I will never forgive them. I will devote my entire life to vengeance.”
A cold, murderous gleam flickered in Awangga’s eyes as he led his warriors.
Whoever claimed barbarians were heartless, bloodless savages… had clearly never met him.
They were called barbarians, but that didn’t mean they lacked a father’s love.
Barbarians were barbarians in their own way.
Cultures and customs differed from tribe to tribe, and chieftains like Awangga loved their children deeply.
* * *
“Damn it all!”
Bang!
The moment Cravel heard Helen’s report, he slammed his desk and rushed straight to where Malaga was held.
Just as Helen feared, Cravel knew all too well what kind of disaster Karlile’s “kidnapping” could bring.
“Private Karlile! Phrivate Karrliiiiile!”
“You’re here.”
Karlile looked at Cravel lazily from his field cot.
Malaga was still unconscious on the other side, receiving treatment from a military doctor.
“You’re heeere~?”
Cravel’s eyes bulged.
“You insolent little…!”
“Want me to desert again?”
“……!”
“Remember, I’m the Archduke’s son.”
“You…!!!”
Cravel barely held himself back from beating Karlile senseless.
If the previous desertion incident had taught him anything, it was that rank wasn’t everything.
Karlile might be a mere private, but he was a direct descendant of House Sigmund—son of Guntram the Archduke of Decaron.
By birth alone, he was far from an ordinary private.
Even a battalion commander couldn’t treat him carelessly.
“Yes, Private Karlile…”
“Go on.”
“Do you even understand what you’ve done…?”
“Not sure.”
“Listen carefully. What you did is more than enough to incur the wrath of the Raging Storm Tribe. One of the strongest tribes among the barbarians, and you have turned them into—”
“Watch your wording.”
“W-what?!”
“For someone who’s supposedly a Decaron battalion commander, you sure tremble a lot at the thought of barbarians. Since when did we fear the Raging Storm Tribe? Barbarians are all enemies anyway.”
Cravel fell silent.
Karlile was… technically right.
Northerners did not fear the barbarian tribes.
That was the Northern spirit—an enduring creed passed down for centuries.
“A battalion commander trembling like a scared mutt. Maybe you should just defect.”
“You insolent…!”
Cravel looked ready to draw his sword.
“Private Karlile! That is unacceptable! Apologize to the battalion commander at once!”
Helen stepped in, unable to listen anymore.
“How do you expect me to speak nicely when the battalion commander is shaking in fear of the enemy?”
“Still, your words clearly constitute insubordination!”
“Tch.”
For Helen’s sake, Karlile refrained from further insult.
“Fine, fine. And no, I’m not apologizing. So don’t bother asking.”
“Very well. But punishment is unavoidable. As your direct superior, I cannot ignore such blatant disrespect toward the battalion commander.”
“Okay.”
Karlile accepted it without resistance.
As much as he disliked Cravel, he knew full well that insulting one’s battalion commander as a private was a punishable offense.
“But actually—”
“For the love of—will you PLEASE keep your mouth shut?!”
Helen cut him off.
“If you say one more word, I’ll have no choice but to place you under arrest! So please—PLEASE be quiet.”
“I’ll go quietly to the jail later, but there’s something I need to say.”
“……ugh.”
Helen clutched the back of her neck.
She had already been more than patient.
And yet this damned troublemaker had no concept of “enough.”
“…Fine. Say it.”
Helen gave up.
“Speak! Let me hear how far you’ll cross the line, you little brat!”
Cravel growled, glaring daggers at him.
“Helen.”
“…Speak.”
“When did I ever say I kidnapped Awangga’s son?”
“…What?”
“I’m asking if I ever said I kidnapped or captured him.”
Karlile gestured at the unconscious Malaga.
“I don’t recall you saying that, but…”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“……?”
“It wasn’t kidnapping or capture. It was rescue. I saved him from being taken by the Black Fang Tribe.”
“……!”
“So shouldn’t that make me a benefactor, not an enemy? Shouldn’t Awangga and the Raging Storm Tribe be grateful instead?”
“Well… that…”
Helen looked as if she’d been hit in the head.
Come to think of it, Karlile wasn’t wrong at all.
It was indeed the reconnaissance squad—and Karlile—who saved Malaga from the Black Fang Tribe.
They never kidnapped nor captured him.
They had risked danger to rescue him—that was indisputable.
Granted, there had been some beating and torture involved…
But that was only because Malaga had rampaged first.
“Tell me, then. What exactly did I do wrong? Go on. I’d like to hear it.”
“……”
Helen and Cravel could not answer.
