I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander

Sincerity emanated from Daniel’s resolute gaze.

Bertram was no fool; he recognized those words were directed at him.

A heavier silence than ever before descended upon them.

“……”
“……”

The silence lingered, yet neither spoke first.

For they knew an ill-chosen word in this situation could lead to catastrophe.

This was not merely from Daniel’s perspective.

Emperor Bertram had also found himself in a position where he had to heed Daniel’s disposition.

In his advanced age and ailing health, Bertram was facing a transition of power.

In his prime youth and valor, he might have countered Daniel’s veiled threat, subjugating him with shackles.

However, the Imperial power was now divided, and Daniel was fully aware of this.

Most ministers had sworn allegiance not to the Emperor but to the Princess.

For upon Bertram’s demise, it would be none other than Celvia who would rule the Empire for decades to come.

Under Celvia’s favor, Daniel would undoubtedly be treated as a distinguished loyalist and meritorious subject.

It was apparent that Daniel would enjoy the unwavering support of countless citizens during Celvia’s impending reign.

‘In such a situation, if I were to persecute Daniel and diminish his authority…’

The citizens would not remain passive, and Celvia’s power base would be shaken.

For neglecting a loyal subject who had secured her ascension to the throne, he would face innumerable criticisms.

As the Regent, Celvia could not simply dismiss such actions as the Emperor’s unilateral decisions.

Of course, Celvia would never agree to persecute Daniel, but even the slightest possibility of such an occurrence troubled Bertram.

The source of his vexation was Daniel Steiner’s apparent recognition and subtle exploitation of these circumstances.

‘Indeed. Your veins course with the blood of the fox.’

By framing his story as merely recounting what he had heard from the Mother Superior, Daniel had nimbly avoided accusations of disrespect.

While Bertram could seek corroboration from the Mother Superior who had raised Daniel, it would serve no purpose.

For if she claimed to “not recall,” the past would remain a mystery.

‘Even if it were a story he truly heard…’

Sharing it undoubtedly carried an ulterior motive.

Regardless, Daniel had revealed his intentions through the fable’s metaphor, yet without directly implicating himself.

‘Truly a cunning fox…’

They say fables satirize and parody reality.

Witnessing the fable’s reenactment in this very setting, Bertram let out a wry chuckle.

“In a situation of mutually assured destruction, neither side can attack the other. An intriguing interpretation.”

Upon hearing Bertram’s words, Daniel felt relieved.

He had inwardly doubted his audacious gambit, emboldened by the whiskey’s intoxication and wavering reason, but Bertram had brushed it off with laughter, putting his mind at ease.

“I believe we have exhausted the fable, so let us now discuss your reward.”
“…A reward, Your Majesty?”
“Yes. Did I not say that if you successfully concluded the negotiations with the Prime Minister of Velanos, you would be rewarded in accordance with the Empire’s fundamental principle of rewarding merit and punishing transgression?”

Daniel hesitated to respond, perceiving it as a trap of sorts.

There was no way the Emperor’s offer of a reward came without conditions.

‘If I request the reward, he will undoubtedly demand something in return.’

While Bertram had mentioned bestowing a reward, he had not stated that he would overlook Daniel’s failure to report his survival promptly after the shipwreck in Velanos.

Thus, citing the delayed report as a pretext, Bertram could impose various conditions on the reward, which would be problematic.

After a brief contemplation, Daniel decided to take the initiative.

“Your Majesty. If I may receive a reward, I would like to be pardoned for independently carrying out my duties when stranded in Velanos. I have no other requests.”

Bertram’s eyes narrowed.

‘No other requests?’

Bertram had intended to suggest a formal inspection, using Daniel’s request for a reward as a pretext.

While not common, it was not unheard of to conduct inspections to determine one’s qualification for rewards.

Moreover, Daniel had a precedent of delaying his report after the Velanos incident, providing justification for such an inspection.

Furthermore, by framing it as an “inspection for the bestowal of a reward” rather than unilateral pressure, there would be no risk of public backlash.

‘Hence…’

If Daniel had requested a reward, Bertram could not retract his statement, forcing Daniel to accept the proposed inspection.

However, Daniel was currently circumventing Bertram’s expectations.

He claimed his only desire was to be pardoned for his insubordinate actions, nothing more.

Consequently, a crack appeared in Bertram’s subtle smile.

He felt an inexplicable sense of awe at Daniel’s evasive eloquence, as if he could discern Bertram’s thoughts and intentions.

‘You claim to be a mere officer?’

The impression was akin to conversing with a seasoned politician who had experienced every conceivable situation, reminiscent of his negotiations with Kaledra, the leader of the International Alliance.

Daniel’s ostensibly sincere demeanor concealed an ulterior motive Bertram could not fathom.

Swallowing dryly, Bertram feigned composure as he spoke.

“Let me ask once more. Are you truly without any other desires beyond being pardoned for your transgressions?”
“Indeed. As I deeply regret causing Your Majesty such distress, I shall consider your pardon of my sins the highest reward.”

With his outward portrayal of a loyal subject, there were no grounds for reproach.

At last, Emperor Bertram had to concede.

‘In my current state, I cannot leash him…’

Daniel Steiner had evaded every trap Bertram had laid, as if he could see through them.

Moreover, the wolf that had eluded the snares slowly approached the hunter, Bertram, baring its fangs, warning that any further attempts on its life would not be tolerated.

Wearing a self-deprecating smile, Bertram nodded.

“Very well. If that is your only desire, I shall not object.”

The night breeze wafting through the terrace cleared the haze of intoxication.

“The night wind grows chilly. We should retire. You must be fatigued from your recent ordeals, so you may take your leave.”
“I shall obey your command.”

Rising from his seat, Daniel respectfully bowed to Bertram.

Before Daniel could depart, Bertram casually remarked.

“In your opinion, does my daughter possess the qualities to become a benevolent ruler?”

After a brief pause, Daniel responded.

“She will become a person befitting the great Empire.”

Having conveyed his meaningful words, Daniel bowed once more and turned to leave.

Upon hearing his footsteps, the Royal Guards opened the door, allowing Daniel to exit into the corridor.

Watching Daniel’s retreating figure with bewilderment, the Chamberlain approached Bertram.

“Your Majesty. Did the conversation conclude satisfactorily?”

Letting out a dry laugh, Bertram picked up the whiskey bottle and filled his glass.

“If the essence of a conversation is to discern each other’s intentions, then one could say it concluded well.”

Observing the slowly filling glass, Bertram continued.

“Chamberlain. It seems I harbor a resentment towards Daniel Steiner.”
“…Your Majesty?”
“Yet, would you believe me if I said he is also the one I cherish most?”

Unable to comprehend his own heart, Bertram rose from his seat, glass in hand.

“I wish he had been my son… Then I could have been spared these endless agonies and ruminations.”

Uttering his near-soliloquy, Bertram approached the terrace.

As the Emperor stepped onto the terrace, facing the wind, the citizens celebrating the festival glanced upwards one by one.

Upon their calls, the citizens collectively raised their gazes towards Emperor Bertram.

Smiling at them, Bertram raised his glass, prompting a resounding cheer.

Carried by the wind were the cries of “Long live the Emperor!” and “Long live Daniel Steiner!”

To Bertram, these were not mere celebratory cheers.

They sounded as if the Empire had two masters.

‘Of course…’

He recognized this thought as a suspicion arising from his overly sensitive mind, unable to perceive the world objectively.

‘If Daniel Steiner were truly an unparalleled loyal subject…’

The Empire would undoubtedly prosper.

A great nation would be born, akin to the Empire ruled by his grandfather, their glory echoing through generations to come.

In that realm, Celvia would be recorded as a benevolent ruler, and Daniel as a meritorious subject.

‘However, if Daniel Steiner is consumed by political ambition and a lust for power, a true wolf…’

This Empire would descend into an unprecedented hell.