The next day, Roman entered the Southern Training Camp as scheduled.
It was a basic requirement before being deployed to the battlefield, and many nobles, including Roman, arrived with their respective soldiers.
The expressions of the nobles were all grim.
Among them, there was not a single person who had voluntarily enlisted.
If their loyalty to the country was truly that great, they would have headed to the Western Front, which genuinely needed help, instead of taking the shortcut to the Southern Front.
As the entrance ceremony began, a man who appeared to be the commander stepped forward.
"I am Count Vale Frank, the commander of the Southern Training Camp. As you all know, the Southern Training Camp is where soldiers assigned to the Southern Front receive basic military training. You will undergo three weeks of training here and then be assigned to the reserve unit to serve out the remainder of your duty."
Basic training and assignment to the reserve unit.
This process was the same for both the Western and Southern fronts.
However, while the Southern troops rarely saw action after being assigned to the reserve unit, the Western troops were constantly engaged in battles, rendering their status as a reserve unit almost meaningless.
Thus, a saying circulated among the soldiers: those who found a good master and went to the South would return plump, while those who went to the West might not return at all.
It was a stark contrast.
Just by observing the atmosphere of the entrance ceremony, one could tell.
Instead of the solemnity of the battlefield, the nobles yawned, clearly bored by Count Vale's speech.
"There is one thing you must keep in mind while staying at the Southern Training Camp. Regardless of your status before entering, here you are merely soldiers fulfilling your military duty. Anyone who breaks the rules of the Southern Training Camp and acts without permission will be sent to the Western Front as punishment."
It was a laughable statement.
The punishment of being assigned to the Western Front was absurd.
The ridiculous part was that the threat actually worked.
For ordinary nobles, being sent from the Southern Front to the Western Front was something they could hardly bear to imagine, which is why they seemed to focus a bit more on the entrance ceremony.
The speech was brief.
Once he finished speaking, Count Vale dismissed the troops.
"Everyone, unpack your belongings in your assigned accommodations. The schedule related to training will be communicated separately in the evening."
Enlisted.
From now on, he belonged to the Southern Training Camp.
As Roman moved toward the accommodations like everyone else, a soldier approached him and quietly spoke.
"The commander wishes to see you."
Count Vale.
The feeling that their eyes had met during the speech was not just Roman's imagination.
Upon entering the command room, the first thing that greeted Roman was Count Vale's bright smile, which had been absent during the entrance ceremony.
"Welcome! Was the journey to the South difficult?" "No, it was no problem."
"Please, have a seat."
With a gentle motion, Count Vale pulled out a chair for him.
It was an awkward level of kindness.
Although Roman was seeing Count Vale for the first time, the Count acted as if they were old acquaintances.
"Do you know how excited I was to hear that you were being assigned to the Southern Front? Roman Dmitri, the youngest ranker of the Cairo Kingdom! Wow, I was thrilled to hear that a rising star was born in Dmitri. Oh, by the way, would you like some coffee?" "Yes."
Count Vale hummed a tune as he prepared the coffee.
Normally, it would be the soldiers' job, but he personally moved to make a cup for both himself and Roman.
The command room quickly filled with the sweet aroma of coffee.
After taking a sip, he placed a cup in front of Roman with a soft smile.
"Drink while you listen. The reason I called you here is to ask you one thing. According to rumors, it seems that Marquis Benedict worked hard to have you assigned to the Southern Front. Is that true?" There was a purpose behind his unsolicited kindness.
Count Vale appeared calm as he sipped his coffee, but his gaze toward Roman burned with desire.
Although Roman did not know the intent behind the question, he had no reason to hide the truth as someone who sought neutrality.
"Yes. I didn't specifically ask for it, but I heard that Marquis Benedict did that for me."
"Really?" Count Vale's expression brightened.
In truth, he had already confirmed the truth to some extent.
Still, he wanted to hear it directly from Roman, and upon receiving the answer he desired, he could not hide his joy.
"So that's the case. To get straight to the point, I want to make a good impression on Marquis Benedict. The Southern Training Camp is not such a bad place, but it cannot compare to the luxurious life in the central government.
Therefore, while you are here at the Southern Training Camp, I will do my utmost to ensure that you lack for nothing, as you are someone the Marquis cherishes. I don't intend to ask for much, just one thing. When you meet Marquis Benedict later, just mention that Count Vale Frank took care of you at the Southern Training Camp.
That's all I need."
It was a rather blunt statement.
Count Vale, like Dmitri, hailed from the outskirts and harbored grand dreams of entering the central government someday.
However, until now, no matter how hard he tried, he had found no way in.
The Southern Training Camp received requests from numerous noble families, but Marquis Benedict was not someone of that caliber to be able to influence it.
The core of the central government was an area Count Vale could not dare to touch, and for someone with nothing like him to create a connection with the central government, he needed a cheat key.
That cheat key was someone like Roman Dmitri.
"Marquis Benedict is putting considerable effort into Roman Dmitri. If Roman Dmitri ever swears loyalty to Marquis Benedict, he could lead me to the central government, having had ties with me at the Southern Training Camp. This is an opportunity, a rare chance to enter the central government."
He had no intention of hiding his purpose.
This was a transaction.
A comfortable life at the Southern Training Camp in exchange for just a single word.
The Southern Front.
It was a place where even the commander had rotted away.
Even while openly soliciting unethical requests, there was not a hint of shame on Count Vale's face.
"How amusing."
He smiled.
Count Vale and Marquis Benedict.
They were not people he would be tied to for life.
However, at least for now, as he accepted their goodwill, there was no reason to refuse what they offered.
Roman said, "I understand. I will not forget your kindness, Count."
That was all.
Roman maintained his boundaries while accepting the other's goodwill.
After leaving the command room, Roman was about to return to his accommodations when he encountered a familiar face.
"So you were here!" It was Henry Albert, the one who had caused a ruckus at the inn.
Unlike when he had hurriedly fled, Henry Albert now spoke with a confident expression.
"I've been thinking about it, and no matter how I look at it, I don't think I did anything wrong enough to apologize to you. To put it bluntly, the Dmitri family is just a baron family from the outskirts. Is it reasonable for me, the second son of the Albert family, to want to use the inn and have you come at me like that?"
Last night, Henry had been unable to sleep.
He was too angry.
Raised as a precious child in his family, he could not accept the fact that he had been humiliated by someone from a mere baron family.
The fact that Roman was the youngest ranker did not matter.
He had heard that the Dmitri family was of commoner origin and could not be considered true nobles like himself.
All night, he simmered with rage, waiting for the next day.
He thought that once he entered the Southern Training Camp, even Roman would not dare to treat him carelessly.
Seeing Roman's indifferent reaction, Henry became agitated and pressed on.
"You messed with the wrong person. Do you know what family my mother comes from? The Frank family! Now you should start to realize what kind of mistake you've made. Yes, the commander of the Southern Training Camp, Count Vale Frank, is my uncle! So apologize now. If you admit your mistake in front of my soldiers, I will make sure not to mention this to my uncle."
His belief in his background was rooted in Count Vale.
No matter how young a ranker Roman Dmitri was, once he entered the Southern Training Camp, he could not ignore the commander's authority.
Henry Albert was confident.
This time, he was sure of his victory.
However, "So?"
"…Huh?" "What does it matter that your uncle is the commander of the Southern Training Camp?" "Are you, are you not understanding the situation? Didn't my uncle clearly say at the entrance ceremony that anyone who breaks the rules would be sent to the Western Front? That rule doesn't just apply to military duties. Those who fall out of my uncle's favor, like you, are included in that category!"
Henry was taken aback.
To be so bold even knowing his uncle's identity.
A cold sweat trickled down his back.
The thought that Roman might draw his sword again made him subtly step back.
"You don't seem to understand what happens when you go to the Western Front. Even if you're a three-star Aura Inspector, death can come in an instant. You just wait here. I'll call my uncle, and then we'll see if you're still so confident."
This was a retreat for the sake of advancing.
Until that moment, Henry Albert firmly believed that his uncle would solve all his problems.
"Uncle!" Upon Henry's arrival, Count Vale smiled broadly.
"Oh, my nephew has come!" Henry Albert.
To the common folk, he might be an arrogant brat, but to Count Vale, he was a beloved nephew who was precious enough to be cherished.
Especially since he resembled Henry's mother, Count Vale's sister.
With his brown hair and comical appearance, Count Vale's eyes sparkled with affection as he looked at Henry.
"But why does my nephew look so upset?" Only then did Count Vale notice Henry's expression.
At the Count's question, Henry seized the moment to express his grievances.
"Uncle, what would you do if I were threatened by someone from a baron family?"
"What?! Which bastard threatened you?" Count Vale jumped to his feet.
The thought of someone threatening his precious nephew was intolerable.
There was no need for further explanation.
With a flushed face, he grabbed the sword hanging on the wall and urged Henry, "Take me to that bastard right now. How dare they lay a hand on my nephew at the Southern Training Camp? I will make sure to trample them down."
"Really?!" Henry's expression brightened.
If his uncle was stepping in, this was a done deal.
Once he entered the Southern Training Camp, the commander's power was absolute.
He hurried his steps, worried that Roman might escape before he arrived.
"That guy."
He pointed at Roman Dmitri.
The other party, foolishly, did not run away.
Seeing Roman waiting as instructed, Henry wore a triumphant smile.
Count Vale arrived a moment later.
In an instant, his expression hardened.
He blinked once, then looked back and forth between Henry and Roman.
He wanted to deny that the bastard was Roman, but there was no one else present except Roman.
And there was Henry's expression, as if he was demanding immediate punishment.
Count Vale felt dizzy for a moment. 'This crazy kid is trying to block my path.'
His judgment was swift.
Before Henry could speak, Count Vale's large palm struck Henry's cheek.
A sharp sound echoed.
The once confident Henry's face turned sharply away.