Chapter 404: The Commander

Meanwhile, in the human camp's southern border region of minor nobles, Mil looked utterly helpless.

"Gervas, this victory was clearly due to your Storm Legion—why are you saying it was my help that won the day?!"

"Mil, you're already famous enough; letting you be even more famous won't hurt. Are you afraid the orcs will come after you?" It turned out that the very first person to shout "Mil is mighty!" had been Gervas himself.

He naturally wouldn't admit he was worried the orcs would target him.

He was even more afraid that the kingdom's many noble families would take excessive notice of him because of this dazzling victory.

His lands held too many secrets that couldn't see the light; if he became too famous, trouble would surely multiply.

Though he couldn't hide anything from the Legion Commander, he could at least keep other minor nobles in the dark—every one he fooled reduced his own troubles.

"Gervas, I'm certainly not afraid of the orcs! But I feel uneasy and guilty taking credit for your achievements!"

"You don't know how courteous those nobles have been to me these past two days—but the problem is, this glory… it's all fake!" Mil sighed helplessly.

"Mil, as long as the Legion Commander doesn't expose you, then it's real!" Gervas clapped Mil on the shoulder.

What could Mil say?

This honor was something others could only envy…

…

As the orcs withdrew, it meant the first major legion battle after the kingdom's army had marched out had ended in victory—undoubtedly a morale-boosting triumph.

The supporting forces could now safely enter Redstone City.

After entering Redstone City, the southern border minor nobles, unsurprisingly, immediately received orders to be summoned by the Commander.

Though Gervas didn't want to go, he knew that if he wanted this glory, he couldn't avoid it.

Unless he was willing to give up the orc chieftain's head as battle merit.

But that head was the key to being promoted to Viscount—it wasn't just empty honor like a general commendation.

So he would never abandon the head; even if this time his merit wasn't enough for promotion, merit could be accumulated.

If not this year, then next; if not next, then the year after.

In short, Gervas knew that without becoming a high noble, in this rigidly stratified noble world, he would still struggle to stand firm.

Even if your fists were strong, without the hide of a high noble draped over you, others would inevitably treat you with disrespect.

And you can't just show off your fists to everyone everywhere, can you?

"My Lord Commander, Baron Mil and his companions have arrived!"

"Oh? Have them come in at once!"

The Legion Commander and the two Dukes immediately halted their war discussion.

Following his instruction, Gervas and Mil and the others finally saw the supreme commander of this northern campaign for the first time.

"Greetings, Legion Commander! Greetings, Your Graces!"

Everyone quickly bowed and greeted.

The Legion Commander and the two Dukes carefully studied Gervas and his group.

After a long moment of observation, the Commander smiled warmly: "Gentlemen, don't be formal. Your crucial role enabled our army's first victory against the orc tribe!"

"For such merit, even I, your Commander, owe you thanks. Please, take your seats!"

Seeing the Legion Commander so approachable, Mil and the others relaxed slightly, then cautiously sat on either side of the war tent.

Inside the tent, only the nine of them were present, making the space feel unusually spacious.

After everyone sat down, several servants entered the tent and brought tea and snacks.

Only then did the Legion Commander speak again.

"You must be Baron Mil?"

When entering the tent, Mil had been first in line.

And Mil wore a royal baron's badge on his chest, so the Legion Commander didn't need to guess to identify him.

Mil felt a slight thrill.

He had participated in royal campaigns more than once.

But in the past, he'd never even met someone as high as Minister Mius, let alone the Legion Commander face to face.

Now, the Legion Commander was speaking to him so warmly—his emotions were unmistakable.

Though he'd expected this, Mil still stammered slightly: "Y-yes, Legion Commander, I am Mil!"

"Hmm?" The Legion Commander paused slightly at Mil's nervousness.

But he recovered quickly, smiling: "Baron Mil, your role in the Emerald River Valley and the southern valley gate fort at Redstone City was absolutely vital!"

"And in this legion battle, victory again depended entirely on you and your companions."

"I'm curious—how did you manage such brilliant strategy?"

"This…" Mil's face flushed crimson—these were all false claims.

But Gervas had already told him before: don't worry about false glory, just accept it with a clear conscience.

He glanced instinctively at Gervas, who appeared utterly indifferent, eyes darting around—finally, Mil forced down his panic.

"My Lord Commander, it was merely good fortune. Though I played some part, it was the fierce combat power of my companions' troops that truly secured victory in these battles!"

The Legion Commander's eyes flickered with thoughtful calculation.

But he smiled, made no comment, and smoothly changed the subject: "Speaking of fierce combat power, I'm curious—across the two previous battles and this one, the one who killed the most enemy heads was always Viscount Gervas!"

"So the spearmen and the guards who could fight orcs one-on-one—they're all your men, Viscount Gervas?"

Among the minor nobles present, only Gervas wore the viscount's badge, so even though this was their first meeting, the Commander and Dukes could instantly identify him.

"Yes, My Lord Commander. The spearmen and the swordsmen who could stand up to orcs—those are indeed my men," Gervas replied. He had deliberately kept low profile among the nobles.

But now, with this answer, the Legion Commander and the two Dukes' eyes gleamed sharply.

Because Gervas's demeanor was neither humble nor arrogant—he showed none of the subservience typical of minor nobles before superiors, nor the excitement of Baron Mil.

He answered in the calmest tone possible—this was astonishing.

A minor noble possessing such composure?

Had they not already confirmed Gervas's origins, the Commander might have suspected he was an illegitimate son of some great house.

"Viscount Gervas, I have a question I'm very curious about—I hope you won't mind: how did you train these guards of yours?"

"They're not titled knights, yet they've surprised us more than titled knights ever could!"

Gervas smiled faintly—he'd anticipated exactly what questions the Legion Commander and the two Dukes would ask after summoning him.

"My Lord Commander, my men were trained through relentless discipline—and secondly, sheer luck: on the coastal islands of my domain, we happened upon a peculiar magical spring…"