Chapter 130

“Hah.”

Obia ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Timist swept her gaze across the detention block, her eyes filled with displeasure.

Normally, ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍no matter how foul her mood was, she always wore a smile.

Seeing ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍her face completely devoid of one, the Military Police grew tense as they examined those who had collapsed while on duty.

Soon, ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍they let out sighs of relief and reported to her.

“Fortunately, ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍they're all just unconscious.”

“There are no fatalities or serious injuries.”

Werner, who had given himself a rather neat piercing through his own head, had targeted only Günter and Nelle Meyer, the suspects in this case.

As for his fellow Military Police officers, their injuries amounted to nothing more than a few minor scrapes.

The chain of cause and effect was obvious.

So obvious that there was absolutely no room for argument.

“Battalion Commander, this is...”

“Clean it up.”

However, with nothing more than a faint, mocking smile lingering on her lips, she looked down at Werner's corpse as though it were utterly pathetic before turning and walking away.

As if...

The matter had already left her hands.

The results that followed proved beyond doubt that her decision had been the correct one.

――――

Last Will and Testament

I, Werner Milan, cannot forgive those who orchestrated this incident.

Because of their petty jealousy and envy, my lover, Mori Chitose of the 23rd Security Brigade, died.

I will not hold the manipulated cadet responsible.

However, those people will fall into hell alongside me.

I'll be joining you soon, Chitose.

――――

The suicide note found at Werner's residence briefly and succinctly explained why he had killed them.

Subsequent investigation confirmed that a noncommissioned officer named Mori Chitose was indeed listed among the casualties of the 23rd Security Brigade.

It was also true that the two had been lovers.

However...

To those who understood everything that had happened behind the scenes, Werner's note read as nothing more than a meticulously crafted piece of propaganda.

The names of the factions weren't mentioned even once.

Instead, all responsibility was shifted onto the two dead suspects.

At the same time, by claiming he had acted to avenge his lover while sparing Martin because he was merely a cadet, the note even granted itself moral justification.

Was that really a coincidence?

Of course not.

Even so...

The Ministry of National Defense officially concluded that Werner had acted impulsively.

The reason was simple.

‘Because they absolutely had to prevent factional politics from being exposed so openly.’

Nor was it merely a problem for the factions themselves.

The government wanted the same outcome.

The public likely knew only that factions existed within the military.

If they realized their true scale was far beyond imagination, demands for reform would naturally follow.

However...

That would be no different from suicide.

Rosen.

Kukenhauzen.

The Alliance of Minor Factions.

At this point, the factions within the military had become impossible to cut away.

Like Wei, Shu, and Wu from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, each controlled its own sphere of influence while checking and cooperating with the others to maintain a fragile balance.

There had once been inspectors and principled officers who believed factions had to be completely eradicated from the military.

For ten years, they planned a sweeping purge.

However, once the investigation revealed that 77.1% of all officers and noncommissioned officers belonged to one faction or another...

The entire group resigned from military service.

‘A tumor that can no longer be cut away... one destined to consume its host completely.’

If they attempted to eliminate the factions...

Not only the Federal Army but even the Planetary Defense Force would become paralyzed.

And the Empire would never miss such an opportunity.

No...

Even before that happened, the now-warlordized factions would undoubtedly plunge the nation into a civil war even more brutal than the Galactic War.

In the end...

It was a matter of politics.

Against that backdrop, the incident faded surprisingly quickly despite its enormous impact.

Reading Werner Milan's suicide note left an unpleasant aftertaste.

Even so...

It presented a series of reasons that people could reluctantly accept.

Of course, there was no need to even mention that the factions had silently allowed it to happen.

Perhaps...

The atmosphere at the academy itself also played a role.

It had already been nearly a week since Bishop rampaged.

Everyone was exhausted.

The instructors wanted classes to return to normal as soon as possible.

The bereaved families and friends of the victims needed time to process their grief.

Even the cadets no longer welcomed the atmosphere of constant unrest.

“Fidelis!”

Of course...

Ideale could never accept it.

〔You requested that the true culprit be identified, did you not? The culprit was identified, wasn't it? Heh heh.〕

Grinding her teeth at Fidelis's response, which all but declared that this was the absolute limit...

She nevertheless had no choice but to accept it.

Even so...

This time, she swore she would not remain a helpless pawn.

“If you attempt to manipulate the rest of our agreement as well...”

“I truly won't remain silent.”

〔Would I dare?〕

Meeting Ideale's icy gaze, Fidelis spoke softly before lowering his head.

〔Glory to the bloodline of Ironblood—〕

Before he could even finish the loyalty pledge that now irritated her merely by hearing it...

She cut the transmission.

Then she sank into the sofa inside the Headmaster's office.

The only unusual thing was that it wasn't the sofa she normally used.

Naturally.

Although she hadn't realized it in her fury, the Psionic Energy she had unconsciously released—so cold it had nearly reached absolute zero—had ruined not only the furniture but even the electronic equipment.

Meanwhile...

Sitting across from her, Jin Crow quietly looked at the now-dark hologram before asking,

“That was information capable of putting considerable pressure on Kukenhauzen.”

“Do you not regret using it this way?”

“...Who knows.”

“Perhaps I do.”

A steaming cup of coffee sat before Jin Crow.

Meanwhile, the tea before Ideale had already grown nearly cold.

Silence settled between them.

Several minutes passed as black eyes and white eyes met in midair, exchanging an unspoken conversation.

“I should apologize first.”

Ideale was the one who finally broke the silence.

Looking at Jin Crow with heavy, solemn eyes...

She caught the scent of tobacco and whiskey lingering on his military uniform.

As always...

His expression remained completely indifferent.

“I never imagined those two would end up like that.”

“Perhaps...”

“I still harbored the slightest expectation toward my Family.”

The expectation that they possessed at least a minimum amount of shame.

The expectation that they would keep their promises.

The expectation that they would, at the very least, take responsibility.

She had done everything within her power.

Yet, viewed objectively...

All she had truly accomplished was restoring Jin Crow and the researchers to where they had originally belonged.

Could that really be called an achievement?

She wasn't confident.

After all...

This entire incident had been nothing more than a scheme by Kukenhauzen to target her from the beginning.

Because of that...

Looking directly into Jin Crow's black eyes, she finally spoke the apology she had never managed to say sincerely.

“I'm sorry, Jin Crow.”

Headmaster and instructor.

Brigadier General and Major.

Setting aside rank and position...

It was an apology from one person to another.

Jin Crow took a sip of his coffee and quietly looked back at her.

“It's alright.”

“At least... as far as I'm concerned.”

His answer was sincere as well.

Ideale Kukenhauzen.

If she had done anything wrong...

It was only that she had grown into someone so capable and upright despite being raised within the Family of Ironblood and Iron Face.

“So...”

“What happens from here?”

Draining the rest of his coffee in one gulp, he calmly changed the subject.

The water had already been spilled.

How much could one individual truly accomplish against something as immense as a faction?

In truth...

The very fact that she had managed to extract concessions from them meant she had already done everything possible.

‘A Penta Gear.’

‘And a member of Kukenhauzen.’

Without those two identities...

Even that much would have been impossible.

Perhaps sensing his thoughts, Ideale slowly blinked her guilt-filled white eyes before taking a sip of tea and answering,

“Martin Brown will likely be unable to avoid expulsion.”

“The people involved in the Research Building, along with the deceased Aton, will also receive dishonorable discharges and corresponding penalties.”

The previous day, documents detailing the rough outline of the incident and the punishments had already been delivered to the bereaved families.

The two principal instigators had died, allowing the others to avoid being sent to Alcatraz.

Even so...

Once branded...

The rest of their lives would hardly be easy.

‘Martin.’

‘Martin Brown.’

Jin Crow recalled the young man he had met inside the cramped interrogation room.

Martin was, in the coldest sense...

A coward.

And a fool.

Perhaps he wasn't evil by nature.

After everything spiraled out of control and innocent people were harmed...

He had trembled in terror.

However...

He had made a foolish, idiotic choice.

And lacking the courage to correct it...

He had ultimately run headlong into his own ruin.

‘Pitiful, perhaps.’

‘But nothing more.’

There was no reason...

Nor the luxury...

To feel anything beyond that.

Even anger was ultimately a finite resource.

One should direct their rage at the person who pulled the trigger.

What would change by becoming angry at the bullet lodged inside one's body?

In the end...

Martin was simply that kind of existence.

The now-dead Aton was no different.

“How will the funeral be conducted?”

“...Three days from now.”

“There will be a memorial service in the academy's main auditorium.”

“Afterward, following procedure, the bodies will be returned to their families.”

After a brief silence, Ideale rubbed her eyes and answered.

“Instructor.”

“Don't misunderstand me, but if possible... it might be better if you didn't attend...”

Of course...

Every charge against him had been cleared.

However...

Human emotions were never capable of looking only at objective truth and fact.

It was hardly a secret that many of the bereaved families and acquaintances still blamed Jin Crow, the instructor who had been teaching the class.

Tap.

Jin Crow set down his coffee cup.

Responding to Ideale's clumsy attempt to show consideration, he simply said,

“I'll attend.”

Seeing the expression on his face...

Ideale could no longer bring herself to stop him.

It had been nearly ten years since a cadet had died at the academy.

Moreover...

Aside from the First Galactic War, never before had more than one hundred people—including the 23rd Security Brigade—lost their lives in a single incident.

Snap.

The soldiers of the 23rd Security Brigade, dressed in dark blue dress uniforms with their caps pulled low over their eyes, saluted their fallen comrades.

“Waaaah... Kruger!”

“...Davis... ngh.”

“Ah... Aaaaah...”

Likewise...

The cadets, dressed not in training uniforms but in black formal uniforms, stood before the smiling memorial portraits of their friends...

Or lovers...

Unable to hold back their tears.

“...Howard, you fool.”

“O-Oppa... Ah... w-what do I do...”

“Grant! M-My grandson, Grant!”

The bereaved families, who had traveled dozens of light-years after hearing the news, clung to the coffins and wailed before the unbelievable tragedy.

“...Sigh, I can't watch this.”

“...Agreed. Tch.”

Hino Kanae and Dokgo Ran quietly muttered as they awkwardly scratched their heads.

“...Sniff.”

Miel's nose had turned bright red as tears rolled endlessly down her cheeks.

“No matter how many times I see this...”

“I never get used to it.”

“...Because we're soldiers.”

Beatus and Famiyu removed their caps and held them against their chests, silently praying for the souls of the dead.

Meanwhile...

Baek Hwi-young simply stood there in silence, taking in the scene before him.

‘The Age of Loss.’

It stirred little emotion within him.

He had already lived through several lives where counting the names of those still alive was easier than remembering the dead.

Perhaps because of that...

Baek Hwi-young quietly looked at the back of Miel's brown head as her shoulders trembled.

‘The thought of losing Miel...’

‘...froze my body.’

This was dangerous.

It could become a fatal weakness.

It was while those complicated thoughts filled his mind—

Thud!

A dull impact echoed through the auditorium.

The atmosphere instantly froze.

Everyone turned toward the source of the sound.

There...

Lying dented at someone's feet...

Was a crushed plastic bottle.

Standing nearby was an elderly man shouting in rage.

And before him stood Jin Crow...

His wet hair dripping after being struck by the bottle.

“What gives you the right to come here?!”

The elderly man, dressed in the dark blue Federal Army uniform from the Second Galactic War, was frail and white-haired as he screamed at Jin Crow.

“S-Sir, please...”

“Let go!”

“I said let go!”

“I devoted my entire life to the military!”

“And you bastards killed my grandson...!”

“Please, sir!”

The instructors and cadets who knew Jin Crow's personality hurriedly rushed over to stop the old man.

Even so...

The old man burst into tears and shouted,

“You!”

“Ggh... You...!”

His anger, with nowhere else to go...

Turned toward the only remaining person connected to the tragedy.

“I-Instructor...”

“I'm terribly sorry.”

“My father has been overwhelmed with grief...”

The old man's daughter hurried over and offered Jin Crow a handkerchief.

Jin Crow simply stood there.

Everyone's eyes focused on him.

Some were anxious.

Some sneered.

Some pitied him.

After a long silence...

Jin Crow finally began walking.

Passing the outstretched handkerchief...

He stopped before the old man.

The people nearby immediately turned pale and rushed forward to stop him.

Step.

Jin Crow walked right past the old man.

Then...

He placed a single white chrysanthemum before the more than one hundred coffins.

Lightly straightening his dress uniform...

He slowly raised his salute.

“......”

Silence engulfed the auditorium where thousands had gathered.

After finishing a brief moment of silence...

Jin Crow turned around.

Then quietly left the auditorium.

“...Hic... ngh.”

The old man who had been shouting at him finally collapsed.

No longer even able to hold on to his hatred...

He simply stared blankly ahead as tears continued streaming down his face.