I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander-Chapter 130
There are moments in life when one unexpectedly faces an unforeseen situation.
For instance, discovering that a shop you thought was thriving had suddenly closed down, or a celebrity at the peak of their career abruptly announcing their retirement.
For Daniel, an event of comparable magnitude was "arriving at work and not seeing Lucy."
As he entered his private office at the General Staff headquarters, Daniel briefly furrowed his brows in confusion before shrugging.
"Something must have happened."
No matter how punctual someone might be, like a well-oiled machine, unforeseen incidents and accidents were bound to occur at some point.
"But still... Lucy, being late?"
Just as Daniel was thinking that this was an unusual event, he set down his briefcase and draped his coat over the chair.
Click-clack, click-clack—
Urgent footsteps echoed down the hallway.
"Someone’s running."
He was wondering who it could be when the door to his private office suddenly swung open.
Standing at the entrance, clutching the doorknob and gasping for breath, was Lucy.
In her hand, she held a thermos.
"Apologies... I had trouble sleeping last night...."
She immediately apologized, even though Daniel hadn’t asked.
It was a rare sight.
Even rarer was seeing her so out of breath that she struggled to speak properly.
Daniel considered teasing her for a moment, but he wisely decided against it—provoking her unnecessarily could backfire.
"There’s no need to apologize. You barely made it on time, so technically, you’re not late. But I must say, it’s quite surprising to hear that you had trouble sleeping. Did something happen last night?"
He subtly probed, but Lucy simply shook her head instead of answering.
Perhaps from running to avoid being late, her flushed face was tinged with a faint red hue.
Daniel, observing her closely, pointed at the thermos.
"What’s that? Did you bring tea?"
"Ah."
Lucy, having caught her breath, stepped closer and held out the thermos to him.
"I made some beet soup. It should help with your hangover."
"...You made this for me?"
"Previously, you brewed chamomile tea for me at my lodging and made chicken broth soup. Think of this as my way of returning the favor."
Even as she said this, the tips of Lucy’s ears were subtly reddening.
Daniel wondered if it was just from exertion as he accepted the thermos.
"I’ll enjoy it. But how did you know I drank last night?"
Lucy’s shoulders twitched slightly, but she quickly regained her composure, as if she had anticipated the question.
"You enjoy drinking, so I assumed you would indulge at the banquet after the coronation."
"...I see."
If he pressed further, she might get annoyed. Best to let it go.
"It seems my adjutant is the only one who actually cares about me. I’ll be sure to enjoy this. That aside..."
After a brief pause, Daniel spoke again.
"You might already know, but in fifteen days, I’ll be transferred to the Eastern Front as the Chief of Staff of the 7th Division. The order came directly from Her Majesty, so I have no choice but to accept it."
"Yes. I’ve heard."
"That makes this easier to discuss. If you wish, you don’t have to follow me to the Eastern Front. As you know, it’s a dangerous place."
Even though he would mainly be working from the division’s rear command, no place was truly safe from enemy attacks.
In fact, the enemy would logically prioritize targeting the command headquarters, making it paradoxically more dangerous.
It was a battlefield where one could lose their life at any moment.
Despite this, Lucy didn’t hesitate.
"I’ll go."
Her crimson eyes held unwavering determination.
Daniel, feeling a bit troubled by her immediate response, cleared his throat.
"You could die."
"I understand."
"You might think working at the command headquarters is safe, but in reality, it could be the most dangerous place of all."
"I am aware."
"If the situation worsens, you won’t even have access to proper meals, let alone desserts."
"I’m used to it."
Daniel didn’t bother asking why.
He already knew—Lucy was a former test subject.
"So why does she insist on following me? To keep an eye on me?"
Though Daniel found the situation unconvincing, he wasn’t in a position to outright refuse her.
"Fine. If you insist, I won’t stop you."
A glint of satisfaction flickered in Lucy’s eyes at his approval.
Just as she was about to voice her gratitude, familiar footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Daniel instinctively turned toward the door.
A moment later, a robust middle-aged man appeared in the doorway.
His hand was pressed against his forehead, as if struggling with a hangover.
"...Director?"
Daniel, concerned, called out.
Ernst lifted his head.
His complexion was noticeably poor.
"Lieutenant Colonel—no, Colonel Daniel. Are you alright? I feel like I’m dying."
"I have a slight headache, but it’s nothing severe."
"Is that so? Youth really is a wonderful thing."
"It’s not just youth—I simply moderated my drinking. More importantly, what brings you here?"
"Hm? Oh. I just thought we could have a cup of coffee together."
Coffee, huh? Daniel had no reason to refuse.
"Let’s head down to the lounge for a cup, then."
"Sounds good. I’ll even prepare it myself today. I should start ingratiating myself with our great Imperial Hero, Colonel Daniel Steiner, don’t you think?"
"A wise approach."
Daniel responded to Ernst’s playful remark with a lighthearted jest of his own.
Just as he was about to leave, he hesitated.
Lucy was subtly giving him a look.
Realizing her silent message, Daniel picked up the thermos.
"Oh. I’ll have some beet soup instead of coffee."
Only then did Lucy’s expression relax into a contented one, allowing Daniel to sigh in relief.
"I really don’t understand what she’s thinking sometimes..."
It remained a mystery.
****
While Daniel was in the break room, sipping coffee with Ernst and engaging in trivial small talk...
“We must come up with a countermeasure immediately! We can’t just sit here and take this!”
Deep in the heart of the Empire, the Pallentia Branch was facing an unprecedented emergency.
Operations had halted entirely—no intelligence gathering, no espionage. Now, gathered in the meeting room under the leadership of Theobald, the branch members were locked in a heated debate.
“We must request support from the Allied Nations immediately! If we contact the Count directly, he will surely find a way to assist us!”
“What kind of idiotic nonsense is that? You want to report our own incompetence to the homeland? Even if we notify them of our predicament, Daniel Steiner will move against us long before we ever receive aid!”
“Then what? Are you saying we should just sit here and do nothing while he takes us apart piece by piece? We don’t even know what he’s demanding from us yet!”
Shortly after Hamtal’s visit, the Pallentia Branch had come to a singular, terrifying conclusion: the one who had sent Hamtal was none other than Daniel Steiner.
The prevailing theory was that the traitor Lucy had provided Daniel Steiner with classified information—or worse, that a mole within their ranks had colluded with him.
The revelation that their location had been compromised meant that an enemy strike could come at any moment. Their nerves stretched taut, the operatives argued frantically, knowing that every second counted.
“First, we need to figure out what Daniel Steiner wants from us. He had the chance to kill us all when he sent his private organization, but he didn’t. That must mean something.”
“So now you’re saying we should listen to Daniel Steiner? Do you have any idea what he’s going to demand?”
“What, then? Would you rather sit and wait for an execution like a bunch of dumb animals? If you want to play the fool, do it alone! The Allied Nations won’t give a damn about your idiotic pride—”
BANG!
A man shot up from his seat, slamming his fist against the table before drawing his pistol and aiming it across the room.
“You bastard! You’re the traitor, aren’t you?! You’ve been working with Daniel Steiner this whole time!”
The man on the receiving end of the accusation broke into a cold sweat, raising his ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) hands slowly.
“...Calm down. Losing our heads won’t solve anything.”
“Losing our heads? You’re the only one in this room suggesting we listen to Daniel Steiner! And you still think this is just a misunderstanding?! Director, you’re just going to sit there and let this slide? Say something!”
Seated at the head of the table, Theobald let out a deep sigh.
The tension in the room had escalated to the brink of madness. The crisis had pushed everyone to their limits.
“Enough.”
His voice was firm but measured.
“Levém has a point. If we don’t understand what Daniel Steiner wants from us, we won’t even have the option of negotiation.”
“But...”
“Shut up and put the damn gun down. Unless you want me to put an extra hole in your head.”
Faced with Theobald’s quiet but unmistakable threat, the man hesitated before finally lowering his weapon.
Theobald rubbed his temples, exhaustion creeping into his expression.
Then—
“Director! It’s Blue Wall! He’s here!”
The message sent a jolt through Theobald’s weary body.
There was only one person who might hold the key to Daniel Steiner’s intentions.
Platt—the spy who had failed his assassination mission.
As murmurs spread through the meeting hall, Theobald grabbed his radio and pressed the transmit button.
“Let him in. Now.”
At last. A lead.
Setting the radio back onto the table, Theobald exhaled.
Not long after, the doors to the meeting room swung open.
A man entered.
Platt.
His clothes were in tatters, soaked with filth, his entire appearance reduced to that of a wretched beggar.
Silence fell over the room as Platt staggered forward, taking ragged breaths before finally spotting Theobald.
He walked toward him slowly—then dropped to his knees.
“...I’m sorry, Director. I failed my mission.”
They had already assumed as much.
Chastising him was pointless. Extracting information was the priority.
Theobald reached out, gripping Platt’s shoulders.
“What did Daniel Steiner say to you?”
Platt took a deep breath, steadying himself before he finally spoke.
“He told me not to pull any pathetic tricks on him. And...”
A tremor ran through his voice.
“...He said that if anyone deserved a glass of poisoned whiskey, it was you, Director.”
A suffocating silence swallowed the room.
Daniel Steiner’s message was clear.
A slow gulp worked its way down Theobald’s throat.
Platt’s breath hitched as he broke into a quiet sob.
Then, in a hoarse whisper, he forced out the final words.
“Director... He doesn’t want to negotiate.”
He raised his head, his face stricken with despair.
“Daniel Steiner is just toying with us. And if we don’t submit to him...”
A shiver crawled down his spine.
His lips barely moved as he spoke the last sentence.
“...He will kill us all.”
While Daniel was in the break room, sipping coffee with Ernst and engaging in trivial small talk...
“We must come up with a countermeasure immediately! We can’t just sit here and take this!”
Deep in the heart of the Empire, the Pallentia Branch was facing an unprecedented emergency.
Operations had halted entirely—no intelligence gathering, no espionage. Now, gathered in the meeting room under the leadership of Theobald, the branch members were locked in a heated debate.
“We must request support from the Allied Nations immediately! If we contact the Count directly, he will surely find a way to assist us!”
“What kind of idiotic nonsense is that? You want to report our own incompetence to the homeland? Even if we notify them of our predicament, Daniel Steiner will move against us long before we ever receive aid!”
“Then what? Are you saying we should just sit here and do nothing while he takes us apart piece by piece? We don’t even know what he’s demanding from us yet!”
Shortly after Hamtal’s visit, the Pallentia Branch had come to a singular, terrifying conclusion: the one who had sent Hamtal was none other than Daniel Steiner.
The prevailing theory was that the traitor Lucy had provided Daniel Steiner with classified information—or worse, that a mole within their ranks had colluded with him.
The revelation that their location had been compromised meant that an enemy strike could come at any moment. Their nerves stretched taut, the operatives argued frantically, knowing that every second counted.
“First, we need to figure out what Daniel Steiner wants from us. He had the chance to kill us all when he sent his private organization, but he didn’t. That must mean something.”
“So now you’re saying we should listen to Daniel Steiner? Do you have any idea what he’s going to demand?”
“What, then? Would you rather sit and wait for an execution like a bunch of dumb animals? If you want to play the fool, do it alone! The Allied Nations won’t give a damn about your idiotic pride—”
BANG!
A man shot up from his seat, slamming his fist against the table before drawing his pistol and aiming it across the room.
“You bastard! You’re the traitor, aren’t you?! You’ve been working with Daniel Steiner this whole time!”
The man on the receiving end of the accusation broke into a cold sweat, raising his hands slowly.
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“...Calm down. Losing our heads won’t solve anything.”
“Losing our heads? You’re the only one in this room suggesting we listen to Daniel Steiner! And you still think this is just a misunderstanding?! Director, you’re just going to sit there and let this slide? Say something!”
Seated at the head of the table, Theobald let out a deep sigh.
The tension in the room had escalated to the brink of madness. The crisis had pushed everyone to their limits.
“Enough.”
His voice was firm but measured.
“Levém has a point. If we don’t understand what Daniel Steiner wants from us, we won’t even have the option of negotiation.”
“But...”
“Shut up and put the damn gun down. Unless you want me to put an extra hole in your head.”
Faced with Theobald’s quiet but unmistakable threat, the man hesitated before finally lowering his weapon.
Theobald rubbed his temples, exhaustion creeping into his expression.
Then—
“Director! It’s Blue Wall! He’s here!”
The message sent a jolt through Theobald’s weary body.
There was only one person who might hold the key to Daniel Steiner’s intentions.
Platt—the spy who had failed his assassination mission.
As murmurs spread through the meeting hall, Theobald grabbed his radio and pressed the transmit button.
“Let him in. Now.”
At last. A lead.
Setting the radio back onto the table, Theobald exhaled.
Not long after, the doors to the meeting room swung open.
A man entered.
Platt.
His clothes were in tatters, soaked with filth, his entire appearance reduced to that of a wretched beggar.
Silence fell over the room as Platt staggered forward, taking ragged breaths before finally spotting Theobald.
He walked toward him slowly—then dropped to his knees.
“...I’m sorry, Director. I failed my mission.”
They had already assumed as much.
Chastising him was pointless. Extracting information was the priority.
Theobald reached out, gripping Platt’s shoulders.
“What did Daniel Steiner say to you?”
Platt took a deep breath, steadying himself before he finally spoke.
“He told me not to pull any pathetic tricks on him. And...”
A tremor ran through his voice.
“...He said that if anyone deserved a glass of poisoned whiskey, it was you, Director.”
A suffocating silence swallowed the room.
Daniel Steiner’s message was clear.
A slow gulp worked its way down Theobald’s throat.
Platt’s breath hitched as he broke into a quiet sob.
Then, in a hoarse whisper, he forced out the final words.
“Director... He doesn’t want to negotiate.”
He raised his head, his face stricken with despair.
“Daniel Steiner is just toying with us. And if we don’t submit to him...”
A shiver crawled down his spine.
His lips barely moved as he spoke the last sentence.
“...He will kill us all.”
