I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander-Chapter 148

Having confirmed that Daniel had entered the command tent, Intelligence Officer Phelp headed toward the temporary field interrogation site.

“Second Lieutenant Freyen, was it? That woman said she was confident in interrogations, but...”

Extracting information through torture wasn’t an easy task.

If asked whether the act of torturing itself was difficult, the answer would be no.

Anyone could inflict pain on another if they just knew how.

The hardest part about conducting torture was maintaining a sound mind.

“Once the torture begins, the subject writhes in pain and screams. They yell hysterically, then start to beg, sometimes even crying out their family members’ names and pleading for forgiveness.”

Even the coldest of people naturally become emotionally shaken watching that unfold.

Conceptually, one might understand that extracting information from the person in front of them would save countless allied lives—but psychologically, they can’t accept it.

And once that happens, they become swayed by the subject’s pain and pleas, and eventually give up on the torture.

In the worst case, they might even develop sympathy for the subject and commit the act of betraying their own side to help them.

To Phelp, Freyen seemed likely to follow that same path.

“She’s a young woman who became an officer at an early age. Admirable, but she’s clearly not used to torture.”

It wasn’t uncommon for rookies, caught up in their own zeal, to initiate torture only to vomit or fall into panic once the subject started bleeding and screaming.

“I, too, developed trauma after conducting my first interrogation...”

That’s why Phelp was on his way to the interrogation site, to be there in case Freyen broke down.

“Even if Second Lieutenant Freyen ends up crying and says she can’t do it...”

Phelp had no intention of scolding her.

He knew well that torture inflicted psychological trauma not only on the one receiving it—but also on the one conducting it.

Resolving to support her as an ideal superior officer, Phelp arrived at the temporary interrogation site, where the guards at the entrance turned to look at him.

Since it was the battlefield, no one saluted.

“Intelligence Officer, sir.”

“What brings you here?”

At the soldier’s question, Phelp replied matter-of-factly.

“I’ve come to check whether the interrogation is proceeding properly.”

At his words, the soldiers exchanged glances and answered reluctantly.

“...It’s probably best you see it for yourself, sir.”

“I intended to. Will you let me through?”

As the soldiers nodded and stepped aside, Phelp walked into the interrogation tent.

“Second Lieutenant Freyen. Is the interrogation proceeding we—”

Phelp froze mid-sentence the moment he lifted the curtain and stepped in.

The hands of the Allied Nations platoon leader, Dahamen, who was tied to a chair, were soaked in blood.

Scattered below him were no fewer than twenty fingernails.

“...What the hell...”

Too stunned to comprehend what had happened, Phelp just stood there blankly as Freyen casually tapped the pliers in her hand and spoke.

“Well then, let’s go with our final question. From now on, how should you refer to Colonel Daniel Steiner?”

At her question, Dahamen mumbled in a broken voice, his face vacant.

“...The Saint. Colonel Daniel Steiner is both a great soldier and a saint.”

And with that, Phelp could only be horrified.

“Dear god.”

Those were words that should never come from the mouth of an Allied Nations platoon leader.

Which meant, in other words, that Freyen had utterly crushed the man’s psyche.

As the stunned Phelp watched in silence, Freyen gave a faint smile.

“Well done. Now then, what does that make you and the Allied Nations, who not only disgraced Colonel Daniel Steiner, but even plotted to kill him?”

This time, Dahamen clenched his teeth without responding.

Seeing this, Freyen tilted her head.

“Oh my, are you still not properly reformed? Then, perhaps this time...”

She used the pliers to lift Dahamen’s chin.

Their eyes met, forced into alignment, and Freyen wiped the smile from her face.

“Shall we try pulling a tooth?”

Dahamen’s breathing grew rapid.

Overcome with fear, he shook his head desperately. Freyen gave him another chance, smiling with the gentle grace of a benevolent teacher.

“Well then, if you don’t want to be in pain, you’ll need to prove you’ve been reformed, yes? Will you answer my question?”

Dahamen, nodding furiously, shouted in a desperate bid to survive.

“Disgracing Colonel Daniel Steiner is the act of a beast! And to attack a man who is no different than a saint is beneath even a beast! Please, I beg you, forgive me!”

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Freyen pulled the pliers away.

“You’re fully reformed now. I’m truly pleased. Then, from now on...”

Just as she was speaking with serene kindness, Freyen noticed someone’s presence and turned her head.

Seeing Phelp, she blinked her black eyes a few times and then smiled.

“Oh, Intelligence Officer! Perfect timing.”

With blood spattered across her face, Freyen spoke in a casual tone—she was horror incarnate.

Not particularly wanting to comment on anything, Phelp cleared his throat and stepped closer.

“...Second Lieutenant Freyen, was it? Seems like the interrogation was successful.”

“Yes! I was able to extract the operation frequency and even the Morse code encryption. Of course, we’ll need to interrogate the other prisoners to cross-check, but still.”

“You plan to treat the other prisoners like this, too?”

Freyen tilted her head as if wondering what kind of question that even was.

“If necessary, I should, shouldn’t I? There’s no room for mercy toward traitors to the Empire or the beasts of the Allied Nations.”

Strangely enough, it was such a textbook answer that Phelp couldn’t bring himself to argue.

For some reason, he found Freyen terrifying and cleared his throat to change the subject.

“Excellent work. You extracted a confession in less than half a day. Did someone train you in interrogation?”

“No, I’ve never received formal training. But Colonel Daniel recognized my abilities and advised me to train relentlessly—so I did just that.”

At the mention of Daniel, Freyen smiled shyly, like a girl in love.

Still holding the bloodstained pliers.

It was honestly terrifying.

“...I see. The Chief of Staff guided you well...”

Phelp answered with a bitter expression as he looked down at the Allied Nations platoon leader tied to the chair.

Watching Dahamen sob as he clung to life, pride and humanity long discarded, Phelp made a silent vow.

“Even if it kills me...”

“I must never betray Daniel Steiner.”

****

Late evening, Office of the Director of the Security Bureau.

“They say His Late Majesty will not make it through the night. If that’s true, a state funeral will be held the moment he passes.”

At his aide’s words, Director Otto of the Security Bureau smiled and nodded.

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“When the funeral begins, what do you think will happen? The noble coalition will urge Her Majesty the Emperor to declare martial law, citing the need to control internal unrest. And with the Defense Commander having sided with Belvar, that’ll be a necessary step if they want to seize the capital.”

“But even if they take the capital, military command still lies with Her Majesty. If they don’t secure the palace quickly, Her Majesty will surely summon outside forces to the capital.”

“That’s why I’d try to persuade Commander of the Royal Guard, Johannes. It won’t be easy, but he’s someone who values imperial legitimacy just as much as Belvar does, so surely...”

Otto cut himself off mid-sentence.

The door to his office swung open, and the Deputy Director entered.

The deputy gave a respectful bow to Otto, who was seated behind his desk, then approached.

“Director. We’ve received new information regarding Colonel Daniel Steiner.”

“Information?”

“They say Colonel Daniel Steiner located and captured an Allied Nations platoon that was transporting Etherlium ore. He’s effectively blocked the enemy’s trump card.”

Otto’s eyes widened in shock.

He couldn’t believe it, but the deputy wouldn’t lie to him.

“Do we have proof?”

The deputy pulled out a folder from his belt and handed it to Otto.

“This came directly from the 7th Division. You’ll want to see it yourself.”

Opening the file, Otto couldn’t help but be taken aback.

The report stated that Chief of Staff Daniel Steiner had persuaded the division commander to conduct a search operation, and that the mission had succeeded in capturing an enemy platoon transporting Etherlium ore.

“How in the world did he find out? Calling him a genius doesn’t even begin to cover it...”

Just as Otto was marveling, he turned the page—and froze.

There was a photo attached.

“...What is this...”

It was a picture of the Allied Nations platoon leader, bloodied and sobbing, his fingernails torn off.

Seeing Otto’s reaction, the deputy clarified.

“...It was reportedly done by one of Colonel Daniel Steiner’s subordinates. It’s not certain, but rumor has it he warned that traitors to the Empire would meet the same fate.”

A fascinating smile crept across Otto’s lips as he listened.

“This feels like Daniel is sending a warning to Belvar.”

Stroking his chin once, Otto narrowed his eyes quietly.

“...Could it be...”

Entertaining several possibilities, Otto felt a chill run down ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ his spine.

“Daniel Steiner... might be planning to take the Empire into his own hands...”

Perhaps he was knowingly turning a blind eye to the nobles’ uprising.

From the military’s standpoint, the nobles’ revolution was practically treason.

So if Daniel struck before they could establish legitimacy, he could bring them all to heel in one fell swoop.

That would make him, in both name and reality, the singular leader of the Empire.

“I know it’s an outrageous suspicion. But...”

If it were Daniel Steiner—the man constantly weaving sinister schemes—it wouldn’t be out of character at all.

A sociopath who even conceals his own emotions would have no trouble hiding his intentions.

“Well, well... things are starting to get interesting. I wonder who will end up seizing the Empire.”

From Otto’s point of view, there was no way this could be anything but entertaining.