I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander-Chapter 146

The Next Morning

Eisenkrone Imperial Palace

“I dare to pray before You, my Lord. Please, guide this servant of Yours who lies before us now, that he may lay down the burdens of this world and enter eternal rest. And not as the Emperor of the Empire, but as a mere man, accept this pitiful soul into Your embrace and forgive his sins.”

Beside the Emperor’s bedchamber, a priest recited the prayer quietly.

In that sacred silence, the close aides all bowed their heads. Selvia, holding back sobs, clutched her father’s hand tightly.

Duke Belvar, watching this scene, narrowed his eyes slightly.

“So he couldn’t overcome the illness after all...”

To see Bertham—who once seemed immortal—standing at death’s doorstep brought a complicated mix of emotions.

It was Emperor Bertham who, inheriting the authority of his predecessor, introduced a series of progressive reforms that brought a fresh wind to the Empire.

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It looked as if the Empire would step into a golden era.

That is, until the war broke out.

Once hostilities with the Allied Nations began, Bertham could no longer focus solely on domestic affairs. He even stepped onto the battlefield himself to inspire the troops.

He cut down on sleep to the bare minimum.

And so, Bertham’s health deteriorated rapidly.

This—this was the result of a ruler who neglected his own body for the sake of governance.

The seemingly eternal power now trembled like a candle before the wind.

“...We know that our Lord intercedes for us with mercy. So please, in Your boundless compassion, understand the hardships he has endured and the wrong paths he may have taken. Under the blessings of the angels, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, we pray that You lead him to heaven. Amen.”

Having finished the prayer, the priest drew the sign of the cross and stepped back.

Bertham, sensing the end of the prayer, turned his head and, with difficulty opening his eyes, looked at Selvia.

“Come here... my daughter...”

Even while breathing as if each breath might be his last, Bertham didn’t forget to give advice to his daughter Selvia.

To Belvar, though, it all seemed like useless prattle.

“...Bertham’s death will be the spark that ignites revolution.”

Bertham was a respected emperor, both within and beyond the Empire.

He had served the people without disregarding the nobility. He had fought for the soldiers and led many battles to victory.

Even Belvar considered Bertham to have been a good ruler.

“But he made one mistake.”

He let his children fight over the succession.

Belvar could understand what Bertham had intended.

He probably thought that a prince driven by ambition but lacking practical sense would only bring ruin to the Empire.

So naturally, he would have wanted to pass the throne to Selvia, who possessed both administrative skill and concern for the people.

By delaying the appointment of a successor until Selvia had secured a decisive victory, Bertham had shown where his heart lay.

The problem was that this choice turned the nobility against him.

A woman emperor? Did he think the nobility would accept that in silence?

Having a female emperor was not only a break from imperial tradition—it was bound to provoke backlash from the noble class.

Noble houses, by default, pass down all power and property to the firstborn son.

Those who had inherited their positions on that very assumption were the ones sitting in power now.

So for the Emperor—the highest authority in the Empire—to hand power and wealth to a daughter rather than a son was nothing short of an insult to all noble lineages.

That resentment became the driving force of unity. The nobles, armed with the claim that the Emperor had violated the line of imperial legitimacy, now had a reason to act.

And Belvar, who now led them, had made his decision.

The day Bertham died would be the day the nobility reclaimed their rightful status.

“To do that...”

He needed to isolate and eliminate Daniel Steiner, Selvia’s loyal hound.

But how? Just a few days ago, while wrestling with this dilemma, a man had come to Belvar.

He introduced himself as an agent from the Allied Nations. He conveyed a message—that Count Caledra wished to offer his support.

If they worked together, he said, they could surely kill Daniel Steiner.

Skeptical at first, Belvar couldn’t help but smile when he heard Caledra’s plan.

“They’re planning a pincer attack using Etherlium, weren’t they?”

Even a so-called genius strategist like Daniel Steiner wouldn’t imagine such a tactic.

And even if he did imagine it, he wouldn’t gamble on such a low-probability event.

“Daniel Steiner will die on the Eastern Front. And if he doesn’t, a crushing defeat in battle will still give us the justification to turn him into a powerless puppet. And after that...”

Just as Belvar was reviewing his plan in his mind—

“Belvar. Come here...”

Bertham’s utterly exhausted voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Belvar adjusted his garments and approached the bedridden Emperor, kneeling beside him.

“You called for me.”

“...Yes. Belvar, you of all people must understand. The Empire stands at a turning point. And so, I ask for your help. Please, assist my daughter so that the state may remain stable.”

“Do not worry. I will do exactly that.”

“Good. I... I have always...”

As Bertham struggled to turn his head and speak, his words trailed off.

Because in Belvar’s eyes—those eyes looking down on him—there was no sorrow, no pity.

Only one emotion lingered in his gaze: ambition.

Bertham’s breathing grew more labored as he saw it.

“You...”

The words would not come.

Bertham had spent all this time worried about when Daniel Steiner would bare his fangs. He had paid little attention to the nobles.

His worsening health had made it hard to think clearly, which contributed to this oversight.

So when the nobles began to show signs of division after Selvia’s rise to the throne, he dismissed it as a temporary phenomenon.

Just another problem that came with the transition of power, he thought.

But he had been wrong.

The nobles’ conflict was a carefully orchestrated part of a larger plan.

And now, he finally saw who was at the center of it.

“You...!”

Grinding his teeth, Bertham grabbed at Belvar’s sleeve—but he had no strength left in his grip.

Belvar, looking down at the dying emperor with feigned pity, reached out his hand.

“There is no need to worry.”

Grasping Bertham’s wrist, Belvar gently removed his hand.

“I shall serve His Majesty faithfully, as I always have.”

And when Bertham saw the smile bloom on Belvar’s lips—

He finally understood.

It wasn’t Daniel Steiner who sought to consume the Empire...

It was the old fox standing right before him.

****

Daniel rose early and carried out his duties as Chief of Staff as usual.

He spent the morning receiving briefings from his staff officers on the current operation plans and using gathered intelligence to predict enemy movements.

After spending his morning that way, he spent the afternoon patrolling the defensive lines with his hands clasped behind his back.

When the Chief of Staff—who was supposed to be in the command center—appeared in the trenches, resting soldiers and junior officers scrambled to their feet in surprise. But Daniel merely smiled and gave them a nod.

Lucy, trailing closely behind Daniel, tilted her head slightly.

Today, Daniel looked not just calm—but happy.

“...Chief.”

At her call, Daniel turned his gaze from where he had been encouraging a soldier inside the trench.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“Did something good happen today?”

“Something good?”

Daniel chuckled and shrugged once.

“I’m not sure what you mean. Do you have any guesses?”

A soldier standing stiffly at attention in front of Daniel quickly responded.

“I don’t know, sir! But if the Chief of Staff is in a good mood, I’d like to cautiously assume the operation is proceeding smoothly!”

Half-right, half-wrong.

Daniel was simply grateful to the division commander who had accepted a wild and baseless theory and authorized a reconnaissance mission.

A platoon crossing the lines to set Etherlium coordinates and activate it? There’s no way. We don’t even know if that tech has actually been developed yet.

Which meant it was an operation with a near-zero chance of success.

Judging by the division commander’s nasty personality, he’ll probably chew me out when the recon mission inevitably fails. Perfect.

And if Daniel pushed back just a little, leading to accusations of insubordination, it ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) could naturally result in his removal.

At the very least, they’d probably decide I’m unfit to command at the front and send me to a rear position.

Either way, it was good news for Daniel.

“Chief of Staff!”

A familiar voice called from behind.

Daniel turned to see Major Phelp, the intelligence officer.

Assuming the division commander’s patience had already run out, Daniel replied blandly.

“What is it?”

Phelp, catching his breath after apparently running all the way there, spoke between gasps.

“The division commander is calling for you. He wants you back at headquarters immediately.”

“I see. He must be furious.”

Thinking here we go, Daniel forced down a grin and put on a serious expression.

But Phelp just blinked, confused.

“Sorry? No, sir, he’s absolutely delighted. He even brought out a bottle of whiskey he’d been hiding.”

“...Delighted?”

Daniel’s face froze as a chill swept over him.

Oblivious, Phelp nodded brightly.

“Well, of course he is! Just like you predicted, we searched the forest and captured an enemy platoon inside a cave transporting Etherlium!”

Phelp’s voice was loud enough to turn every soldier and junior officer in the trench toward them.

And they all looked at Daniel with the same emotion in their eyes: awe.

“The Chief of Staff pulled it off again?”

“I heard he was a war hero, but to deliver results the moment he arrives...”

“We believed in you, sir! We really did!”

As one soldier shouted with pride, cheers began to erupt all around.

Standing amidst their applause, Daniel slowly closed his eyes and thought:

“This fucking bullshit...”

So much for retirement.