Free Web NovelThe handwriting changed.
It was still the same person.
But the notes had become more scribbled and hurried, as if they were added in a rush.
"17th of the Month of Twin Stars. The soldier served in a rearguard mission during the Third Legion's salient counterattack. The squad encountered the main force of the Empire's Second Order; the entire squad was killed in action, with only this soldier and one other surviving."
Karl's brow twitched slightly.
"From this day forward, the soldier's combat style underwent a significant change. Combat methods became extremely insidious and cunning, with zero inclination for frontal confrontation. Frequently employed despicable tactics such as ambushes, luring enemies, and arson. Tactical proficiency is severely inconsistent with previous performance; cause unknown."
"Cause unknown?"
Karl repeated those two words.
"Keep reading," Sophie said.
Karl flipped to the next entry. The date was late in the Month of Twin Stars.
"During Pavel Ivanovich Sokolov's service on the Kaldburg defense line, he gained a certain level of notoriety among the low-level Victoriana garrison for his unconventional warfare. Multiple frontline soldiers mentioned this individual in communications, referring to him as—"
Karl paused for a moment.
"—The shameless Usar bastard."
Sophie let out a short laugh.
"A very 'chivalrous' assessment."
Karl didn't laugh along.
Because attached to this record was supplementary material—extracts from combat reports compiled from various frontline units, arranged chronologically, documenting some of Pavel's combat activities from the Month of Twin Stars to the frost moon.
He had thought these would just be dull attendance logs.
But as he began to read them one by one, his expression went through a full progression from confusion to shock, and then to a certain indescribable, complex emotion.
"21st of the Month of Twin Stars."
He read out the first entry.
"The soldier utilized heavy night fog to drag the wreckage of a decommissioned Thug-III type mecha onto the Victoriana patrol route. The wreckage's boiler was stuffed with a mixture of wet coal and chili powder, connected to the steam exhaust valve via a fuse."
"When the Victoriana patrol approached, the wreckage boiler was remotely ignited, producing a large amount of irritating, thick smoke."
"The pilots of three Imperial mechas committed control errors due to coughing fits. One collided with an ally, and two fell into pre-set anti-mecha trenches due to obstructed vision."
"The soldier then led a squad to approach from the flank, using the mecha-held entrenching shovels to systematically destroy the cooling systems of the mechas trapped in the trenches, causing two units to shut down due to overheating. The pilots were captured after abandoning their machines."
Karl finished reading and fell silent for two seconds.
"...Chili powder?"
"Continue."
Sophie said, a hint of interest growing in her voice.
"28th of the Month of Sweet Rain."
Karl flipped to the next page. "The soldier was performing a night harassment mission in sector C-7 of the Kaldburg defense line."
"His tactics were as follows: First, in the open ground roughly three hundred meters in front of the Imperial positions, he used a mecha to drag irregular grooves into the ground, creating track marks of a 'large-scale mecha assembly.'"
"Subsequently, at the end of the grooves, he erected several decoys made of rags and wooden frames, draped in Punishment Camp standard-issue greatcoats, with lit oil lamps placed inside the decoys to simulate the heat signatures of mecha boilers."
"The Imperial defenders misidentified this as a night raid by the Punishment Camp. The entire line entered Level 1 combat readiness, firing warning shots and flares continuously."
"While the Imperial defenders' attention was drawn to the front, the soldier led a squad through a dried-up riverbed between sectors C-7 and C-8—which had been marked as 'impassable'—to flank the rear of the Imperial position, destroying the coal pipes of two steam power towers."
"Imperial sectors C-7 through C-9 lost steam power; searchlights and communication equipment were completely paralyzed for an hour. The soldier retreated safely during the chaos." ƒгeewebnovёl.com
"Note: The amount of flares and ammunition consumed by the Imperial side due to the misjudgment that night is incalculable."
Karl put down the page, starting to doubt the authenticity of the file.
"One man, one broken mecha, and a few scarecrows managed to keep an entire Imperial defense line busy all night."
"And he also happened to paralyze the power systems of three sectors."
Sophie added, "This person's understanding of logistics lines isn't something a Punishment Camp private should have."
Karl continued to flip through.
The next few records spanned a longer period, from the end of the Month of Twin Stars all the way to the Month of Cicada Chirps.
Every single one made his expression more complex.
Until the Month of the Scorching Sun.
The handwriting for this entry had changed again—it was neater than the ones before, written in a standard official style, clearly from the hand of a higher-ranking officer.
The date was late in the Month of the Scorching Sun.
"Note: The Third Bureau of the Ministry of Internal Affairs sent an inquiry on the 26th of the Month of the Scorching Sun, requesting the 404th Battalion provide a detailed report on Pavel Ivanovich Sokolov's recent activities. Reason for inquiry: The soldier is suspected of having contact with illegal organizations within Usar."
Karl's voice paused when he reached this point.
"Battalion headquarters response: The soldier has not been permitted to leave the camp since enlistment and does not have the conditions to contact external organizations. The inquiry has been archived."
He turned the page.
On the back, there was another line of text, scribbled in pencil, looking like someone's private annotation rather than part of the formal record.
'Fire of Freedom? Those people again. Investigation can't proceed; the word from above is not to dig any deeper.'
Karl held the page up to the fading light from the window. The pencil writing was very faint and easily overlooked if one wasn't careful. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
"Fire of Freedom."
He read the name aloud.
"What is this?"
"Oh, an underground organization within Usar."
Sophie's voice was still lazy, but her speaking speed was a tiny bit faster than before.
"Call them a revolutionary organization or a rebel army; either way, they're a bunch of people dissatisfied with the current Usar regime getting together to cause trouble. Probably small in scale, but very troublesome. The Usar Ministry of Internal Affairs has been chasing them for years without being able to completely wipe them out."
She paused.
"It has nothing to do with us. That's Usar's internal affair."
"But for the Ministry of Internal Affairs to specifically send a letter asking if a Punishment Camp private has had contact with this organization—"
Karl's tone became subtle, "—that's a bit interesting."
"It might just be a routine screening."
Sophie said, "Fire of Freedom people infiltrate everywhere; it's normal for the Ministry of Internal Affairs to be paranoid."
"Routine screenings aren't sent to the Punishment Camp."
Karl shook his head. "People in the Punishment Camp are death row inmates or serious felons. The Ministry of Internal Affairs doesn't care who they contact—they're all going to die anyway. Unless..."
He didn't continue.
But the unvoiced speculation was clear—unless what the Ministry of Internal Affairs cared about wasn't 'who he contacted,' but 'why he was here' in the first place.
A nineteen-year-old orphan, thrown into the Punishment Camp within three days after a summary trial for theft.
Six months of obscurity, then a sudden 'awakening' in the Month of Twin Stars, displaying tactical proficiency completely inconsistent with his past.
Immediately after, the Ministry of Internal Affairs sends an inquiry, questioning his relationship with the 'Fire of Freedom'.
And the battalion's response is 'Investigation can't proceed; the word from above is not to dig any deeper'.
Karl pieced these fragments together in his mind. He couldn't form a complete picture, but he could vaguely see an outline.
A rather uncomfortable outline.
