Chapter 41

General Gerald Berger of the Ferius Front Army was welcoming a guest in a room underground in the Sarajevo Fortress.

"Hey, I'm glad you could make it."

"..."

The room was dimly lit, and the person facing Gerald became visible thanks to the light from the magic stone. One of the Three Heroes, Ayane Sugimoto, an interworlder who had drifted to the Kingdom of Creist and become an enemy of the Haiselk Empire, was there.

The girl had her hands bound behind her back and was glaring at Gerald. Gerald saw through her act of bravado. Having dealt with life and death for many years, Gerald loved humans. People's true nature doesn't show until they die. That was both frustrating and endearing. Therefore, Gerald found the girl's effort to suppress her fear touching. The Kingdom of Creist was being cruel. If she were a powerless girl, Gerald might have patted her shoulder, given her some bread, and sent her back. But the girl's abilities were too rare and dangerous.

"I love people. In my homeland, prisoners are treated with respect. Unlike your Four-Nation Alliance, we don't dispose of prisoners like garbage. Don't you think a person's death should have meaning? However, a prisoner who does nothing is a burden, an obstacle. Don't you agree?"

Gerald's question was met with silence from the girl.

"You see, Ayane, I'm trying to have a conversation with you. This feels more like I'm talking to myself. Let's continue the conversation."

Without waiting for a response, Gerald resumed speaking. Honestly, it didn't matter to him whether she answered or not.

"I want you to work by treating our wounded soldiers. Can you give me an answer? Of course, even as a prisoner, I intend to compensate you for your labor."

"I decline," the girl said in a trembling voice. She was optimistic that help would come. She didn't fully understand what would happen if she refused. Perhaps Gerald's love for humanity made him seem like a kind, benevolent old man to her.

"That's a shame. I only want you to work in a way that matches your life. This is a problem. There's a limit to how many prisoners we can keep. We need to reduce their numbers, like the Four-Nation Alliance does."

Gerald turned his gaze away from the girl and called out to someone outside the room.

"Bring him in."

Dragged in was a Creist soldier, a prisoner with painful injuries. Even in enemy territory, he hadn't lost his spirit of resistance, and Gerald admired him.

"He's a Creist soldier. He was in the infirmary. Do you know him?"

The girl remained silent, but the mask of indifference on her face cracked. Another silence. It didn't matter to Gerald whether she answered or not.

"So, he's one of the ones to be reduced. But it would be a waste to 'completely discard' him. Let's start with a finger, shall we?"

"You crazy old man!! You think I'll flinch—"

The Creist soldier instantly hurled insults. Brave and fearless, even in enemy territory. Gerald found him a commendable soldier.

"Excellent, you have good spirit."

The longsword at his waist hadn't seen action in a long time, but Gerald still managed to sever the target finger.

"Ah, aah, aah, damn it, damn it!!"

Gerald picked up the finger and placed it quietly on the table.

"One down. You shouldn't bite your tongue. Human resources are limited. It would be a waste."

Gerald smiled at the girl. The soldiers on either side of her gagged the Creist soldier and secured his hands to the table.

"One more."

The man arched his back and thrashed his legs.

"Huuu, uuuuuuugh!!"

"Have you ever had all your fingers cut off? Your limbs removed? Been burned alive? Your nose? Ears? Teeth? Eyes? Many people misunderstand, but sometimes death can be a relief. Do you understand the meaning?"

He sounded like a teacher scolding a poor student. The Creist soldier's eyes showed fear for the first time. Gerald's intellectual gaze darkened.

"I love my homeland and the people who live there. That's why I've fought every day for forty years. But the more we win, the more the neighboring countries interfere, like the Four-Nation Alliance."

Three dull thuds and muffled cries echoed in the room in quick succession. The soldiers standing by collected the severed fingers and applied first aid.

"Fifteen more to go. Let's change the approach. Next, we'll crush the right hand. Bones included."

Picking up a hammer from the shelf, Gerald walked around the room, stopping beside the girl.

"This is a problem. So I'll say it plainly. If I need to, I'll do anything, go anywhere. Fortunately, we have many prisoners."

Behind him, the Creist soldier's fingers were being secured to the table. Gerald watched as the soldier twisted and groaned in resistance.

"You seem to like it. Well, now we're ready."

Then, Gerald snapped his fingers.

"Oh, right. There's a woman close to you waiting outside. I thought she could be your assistant, but if she won't work, she's not necessary. Equality is important. All lives are equal. So, what's your answer?"

The girl, struggling to control her ragged breathing, forced out a response.

"...I will cooperate."

"I thought you would say that. I'm glad I didn't crush you. Your first job will be to reattach this man's fingers."

The girl worked with a speed and skill that exceeded Gerald's expectations, reattaching the soldier's fingers. When she finished, she looked up at Gerald with a hateful expression.

"You've done your job. I'm a man of my word. I'll provide you with a workplace and an assistant. And, yes, you'll need a guard. I'll arrange everything."

"Everything, everything as you wish?"

Gerald smiled at the girl's resentful tone.

"No one can have everything as they wish. I'm just a man who stubbornly does what is necessary. I can do nothing else."