I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander-Chapter 122

After successfully persuading the protestors, Daniel suddenly felt lightheaded and dropped to one knee.

The blood loss had momentarily drained his strength.

As the crowd watched in alarm, Freyen rushed forward, quickly supporting him.

Summoning healing magic, she performed emergency first aid on the spot before raising her voice toward the gathered citizens.

“Someone—anyone—call for an ambulance! Now!”

Daniel, still conscious, attempted to refuse, insisting that his condition wasn’t serious enough to warrant an emergency response.

But Freyen—a trained medical officer—knew better and refused to listen.

She pleaded once more, and finally, a few among the crowd nodded and rushed to contact the nearest hospital.

Within minutes, the ambulance arrived, loading both Daniel and Freyen inside before swiftly departing.

At the hospital, Daniel underwent a thorough medical examination.

The doctor was visibly stunned.

Thanks to Freyen’s healing magic, the wound had already closed completely—an extraordinary feat that far surpassed typical healing spells.

“There’s no need for surgery,” the doctor admitted, still shaking his head in disbelief.

“But I’d advise keeping you under observation for the time being.”

Daniel accepted the recommendation and was temporarily admitted for monitoring.

The Next Day

“Colonel Daniel...”

Freyen knelt beside his hospital bed, gazing at him in silence.

His forehead was wrapped in bandages, a stark reminder of the previous day’s events.

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Looking at him like this, her heart felt unbearably heavy.

“...To be honest, I don’t understand,” she murmured.

“Why do you push yourself this far? What could possibly be worth it?”

Slowly, she reached out, wrapping her fingers around Daniel’s hand.

“But... I believe in you, Colonel. I know you wouldn’t make the wrong choice. I may be too much of a fool to understand all the political intricacies you deal with, but...”

Her long eyelashes fluttered as her eyelids drooped slightly.

“Whatever battle you’re fighting, I only wish I could help... The same way you once saved me when I was on the verge of breaking.”

She remembered it clearly.

The day she first met Daniel.

Back in the military police detention center, when she was nothing more than a young cadet...

“Back then, I had given up on everything.”

She chuckled bitterly.

“I tried to deny it, but deep down, I knew. I had been abandoned—by my family, by my house.”

A real father would never send his clueless daughter to the military like that.

That wasn’t love.

It never had been.

And yet, back then, she refused to accept it.

Because the moment she did, she feared she would collapse entirely—and never be able to stand up again.

Her entire existence had been built around earning her family’s approval.

“I tried so hard to gain my father’s recognition, but I failed. I couldn’t even complete my training properly, and I ended up in a cell.”

She gave a dry laugh.

“So, of course, I cried. A lot. I thought my life was over.”

But then—

Daniel Steiner, a mere lieutenant at the time, had been sitting beside her.

He had furrowed his brows in irritation before speaking.

“Looks like you forgot that an Imperial soldier isn’t supposed to cry.”

His tone had been harsh, laced with annoyance.

But Freyen «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» hadn’t missed the warmth hidden underneath.

Daniel had spoken to her.

He had acknowledged her.

And through that conversation—he had given her a reason to stand again.

“Back then, you told me my resolve was admirable.”

She smiled faintly.

“I don’t know why that made me so happy, considering I only joined because my family forced me to... But maybe...”

Maybe—because it was the first time anyone had ever genuinely praised her.

For as long as she could remember, everything she did had been condemned—simply because her magic was dark.

But Daniel—Daniel had seen her magic as valuable.

“When I was assigned to support you on the battlefield, I was overjoyed. But more than that...”

Gently, she lifted his hand and pressed it against her cheek.

“You never judged me for my magic.”

Not only had he not judged her, but he had recognized its worth.

Her dark magic, which allowed for perfect stealth, was a rare asset.

And just the other day, Daniel had openly stated to Pastor Belaf that Freyen was both dedicated and highly competent.

For someone who had lived in complete isolation, shunned by both family and society—Daniel Steiner’s validation was the closest thing to light she had ever known.

So, of course—

Of course she couldn’t help but admire him.

How could she not?

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to savor the warmth of his touch.

“From now on, I will always—”

But before the words could fully leave her lips—

The hospital room door creaked open.

Her eyes snapped open in surprise.

A man in a trench coat and fedora stood at the entrance, momentarily frozen as he took in the scene.

After a brief hesitation, he removed his hat and stepped inside.

“I apologize if I’m interrupting something. My name is Woelrm, and I’m the chief editor of Melverton Newspaper. I have urgent business with Colonel Steiner.”

A reporter?

Freyen frowned slightly.

Now wasn’t the time for visitors.

“The Colonel is resting,” she said firmly. “Even if it’s urgent, you should wait until he—”

Before she could finish, Daniel’s hand twitched on the hospital bed.

He was stirring.

The noise had roused him from sleep.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, taking in both Freyen and Woelrm standing in the room.

His brows immediately furrowed.

“...What is this?”

His voice was hoarse, laced with irritation at being awakened so early.

Woelrm stepped forward.

“Colonel Steiner. I came regarding yesterday’s events. There is something I must discuss with you urgently.”

So that was it.

The newspaper wanted to get ahead of the competition.

They needed Daniel’s approval before publishing their report.

Understanding the situation, Daniel let out a low sigh and forced himself upright.

“Freyen, step outside. I need to speak with him.”

“Understood.”

Without hesitation, Freyen obeyed, leaving the room.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Woelrm set down his briefcase and pulled out several photographs.

“These are the best shots we took yesterday. Please review them and let us know which one should be used for the front page.”

Daniel gave a small nod and took the photos.

The first image showed him standing face to face with the protestors.

The second image captured him shouting, blood dripping from his forehead.

Daniel swallowed.

It was perfect.

"Was that really how I looked?"

Even Daniel had to admit—it was intimidating.

His expression in the photos was so ruthless it sent a shiver down his own spine.

"I look terrifying..."

Clearing his throat, he flipped to the next photo.

This time, it showed him embracing the grieving man from the protest, offering comfort.

The blood on his forehead remained the same, but the narrative was entirely different—it emphasized his compassion rather than his aggression.

"It captures everything in a single frame—both the protestors’ violence and my carefully staged benevolence."

This was the one.

Daniel snapped his fingers.

"Use this photo for the front page."

"Understood. What should the headline be? 'Colonel Daniel Steiner Shows Mercy Even in the Face of Violent Protestors'?"

Daniel hesitated, then handed the photo back to Woelrm.

"Change it. The wording must emphasize that the 'anti-war' protestors committed violence."

"And 'mercy' implies an authority looking down on subordinates—it could provoke backlash."

"Then... what would you suggest?"

"'Anti-War Protestors Turn Into a Mob—Yet Colonel Daniel Steiner Still Shows Restraint.' That should do."

Woelrm nodded, accepting the revision.

"For follow-up articles, continue highlighting the violence of the anti-war protestors. The public must come to associate 'anti-war' with 'rioting'."

Daniel’s gaze sharpened as he met Woelrm’s eyes.

"That way... they'll never dare to stage a protest like this again."

****

Stepping out into the open air, Woelrm wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

"Why does talking to that man feel like suffocating?"

He couldn't tell if it was just his imagination, but every word Daniel spoke weighed down on him, carrying an oppressive intensity that made it difficult to breathe.

After pocketing the handkerchief, he glanced around, spotting Tom nearby.

Tom was both a founding member of Melverton Newspaper and the agent Daniel had planted inside the protest.

With the job now done, Tom was waiting for Woelrm so they could return to the capital together.

"Tom!"

At Woelrm’s call, Tom turned—but something was off.

He looked tense.

Woelrm frowned as he approached.

"What’s got you so rattled?"

"It’s... about what Colonel Steiner ordered me to do."

"Your mission? You pulled it off, didn’t you? What’s the problem?"

But Tom shook his head.

"I didn’t throw the brick."

Woelrm’s eyebrow twitched.

"...What? What the hell do you mean you didn’t throw it?"

"Just what I said. Right before I could throw it, someone else picked up a brick and hurled it instead."

"I memorized the guy’s face and immediately reported him to the police, but..."

"Did they catch him?"

Tom nodded.

"Yeah. They arrested him on the spot. He should be in a holding cell at the station right now."

That was a relief, at least.

Woelrm let out a deep sigh.

"As long as the actual culprit was caught, it’s not a bad outcome. If he was a long-time protestor, the Imperial Daily won’t be able to spin this as 'Daniel Steiner’s staged performance'."

The fact that the brick thrower was a real protestor was a stroke of luck.

But still—

"Wait... If Daniel bled that much, then..."

Woelrm’s thoughts froze.

The fake brick should have shattered on impact.

But it didn’t.

It didn’t break at all.

"...A real brick?"

For a moment, Woelrm felt the back of his neck go cold.

"That means he got hit with an actual brick... and still stood there as if it were planned?"

The fact that Daniel hadn’t suffered serious injuries was sheer luck.

"If it had hit him just slightly differently..."

But that was a thought for another time.

Woelrm turned back to Tom, his expression hardening.

"You need to tell Colonel Steiner the truth. Right now."

"Even the smallest lie—if he finds out we hid something from him, we have no idea what he’ll do to us."

Tom hesitated, then nodded.

"Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go tell him now."

He started toward the hospital—

"Wait. Hold on, Tom."

Woelrm stopped him, a sudden thought creeping in.

Something felt... off.

A quiet suspicion settled in his mind as he spoke carefully.

"Tom... Weren’t we supposed to be a propaganda newspaper for Colonel Steiner?"

"Yeah? You literally cried that night about 'making a deal with the devil' when we agreed to it."

"Right. But have we actually... ever told a lie?"

Tom blinked.

The reports linking Baron Hendliem to Campbell?

That was true.

Sure, Daniel had denied it for political reasons, but Melverton Newspaper had never fabricated anything.

Even this protest—the brick-thrower was an actual protestor.

So their headline—"Anti-War Protestors Turn Violent"—wasn’t a lie.

Woelrm replayed everything in his head.

Had they ever truly spread disinformation?

His lips parted slightly, as though the realization left a strange taste in his mouth.

"...We’re just telling the truth."

Silence fell between them.

Tom blinked again, staring blankly ahead.

"Huh. Now that you mention it..."

It wasn’t wrong.