Vance and the other generals were not veterans of every battle, but they were professional officers; during the Epsilon II resistance, they had cooperated with General Carrick to win a victory that electrified the whole Federation. Hearing Cyril and Jack speak, they grasped immediately: rhythm in war is crucial. The side that controls tempo—even while retreating—can execute a planned counterstroke at the right moment and win far greater results.
Although Cyril ordered the delay, in the minds of the two chief commanders, the war had already begun.
Just then, Carrick’s chief aide, Yuna, knocked and entered: “General, Major Nya Griffin of the 13th Independent Night Operations Wing requests an audience.” Carrick nodded: “Send her in.”
A moment later, the door opened again, and Nya entered with an erect bearing. She saw Jack and smiled slightly, saluted the generals, and handed a report to Carrick: “General, this is the latest from Air Special Forces.”
Carrick signed, opened the file, and smiled at Cyril: “Your guess was correct. The force commanding the Empire is no longer your old colleague General Cassius von Adler; it’s Prince Viktor von Reiss and his teacher, Alexander Reed of Naga.”
The generals inhaled sharply—no wonder Cyril stressed tempo. Against an opponent like Alexander Reed, once you fall into his rhythm, you pay dearly to break free. He can lead you by the nose, keep you scrabbling, and then strike to knock you down.
Cyril smiled faintly: “I know the Imperial High Command well; someone will show flaws, but not someone in decisive power. Adler is too conservative; he’d cling to the exit and try to find the public sector’s jump point. When the intelligence said the Emperor had called back Viktor, I realized the war had gotten interesting.”
He looked at the holographic star map and frowned: “But my real worry isn’t Alexander. He’s a powerful opponent, but he’s a pure military man, not a madman.” He sighed: “The true madman who threatens all mankind is one person—the Emperor Wilhelm von Reiss.”
Vance blinked: “You mean—”
Cyril nodded: “He’s uncontrollable. The Western Pact cannot control him; he cannot control himself. If he deems it necessary, he will issue the most brutal orders.”
Silence fell. Technology had progressed so far that humans could not yet annihilate an entire planet, but to wipe out all life on a world, the means are more varied than before. Mass-destruction superweapons were banned by the Supreme Union Council—every nation had inspection posts and satellites to detect their construction. Any nation attempting such weapons would be punished by all humanity; the sanctions would destroy it.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Yet the generals knew that as total war escalated, the Council’s ability to restrain everything might wane. Even if proscribed, ordering a fleet strike against planetary ground targets isn’t impossible. Fleet bombardment can raze cities in days.
Cyril said gravely: “If in the end Wilhelm von Reiss sees no hope, he may choose to bury himself with the imperial homeworld Vespertine.”
Carrick shifted uneasily: “But interstellar conventions allow officers to refuse such orders. Who would consign themselves to a hopeless nation’s death?”
Cyril sighed: “You wouldn’t understand the Dragoon Empire. Look at the Butcher. Extremist ideologies lurk there. When they believe their glory is gone, when despair takes hold, they will strike down anyone—even their own. To them, it punishes an enemy and liberates their people.”
The generals exchanged looks. Vance muttered, “If many countries reach that stage, humanity would face annihilation.”
Cyril smiled: “A single madman cannot destroy humanity; only a collusion of madmen with vast power could. Superweapon manufacture has long-standing controls; even if an emperor ordered the work, exposures happen. If a single link looks suspicious and someone reports it, the result would be either the nation’s destruction or the Emperor’s downfall.”
He fixed his gaze: “As for Wilhelm von Reiss… the Empire cannot hide superweapons, and when he despairs, will he still have fleets to carry them out?”
The generals thought: a leader with unchecked power is humanity’s greatest danger; it must be extinguished at the root. They were thankful Cyril was on their side—if they’d only realized the Emperor’s nature at the final assault on Vespertine, Federation losses would be incalculable.
…
Jack lingered near the generals’ meeting and quietly slipped out. When Nya left, Jack grabbed her and grinned: “Miss me?” Surprised, Nya glanced around and then kissed Jack on the cheek. Suddenly, Carrick’s voice rang: “General Cyril, is it appropriate to entrust such an important mission to Lieutenant Harlan?”
Jack strained to eavesdrop; the half-closed door was yanked open. Cyril looked at Jack: “What are you still doing here? Get moving!”
Nya had already stepped away, saluted Cyril, and left. Jack, brazen as ever, smiled at Cyril and walked toward his office, thinking: “What plots are these old foxes cooking up now?”
Seeing Jack depart, Cyril signaled Yuna to close the door and chuckled: “This fellow—don’t let him fool you. He’s slippery.”
Carrick nodded: “I’ve never met such a soldier. Federation troops are taught obedience from day one—follow orders, again and again. Lieutenant Harlan is an anomaly.”
Cyril sighed: “He may be the most talented soldier I’ve seen. Pity he’ll never be a general—he needs to be forced, cornered, and driven to break out his strength.”
Carrick laughed: “If he became a general, we might never control him again—he’d probably laze about or chase pretty girls. Look, Major Nya clearly likes him.”
Cyril smiled: “Exactly. He can’t be allowed a comfortable life. We’ll dig his potential out and put it where it matters. I trust him to hold the Free Line. Behind enemy lines, he’ll do whatever it takes to survive—and to keep his comrades alive.”
Vance, astonished, argued: “Last time you said if Harlan saw through your plans, he wouldn’t go to the front. Now he’s studying like crazy—if you go back on your word—”
Cyril’s smile was calm: “I said he didn’t need to go to the front. I never said he wouldn’t go behind enemy lines.”
(CH111 end)
