Bastian

Chapter 26.
The Devil's Hound

 

Bastian sat there undisturbed, waiting for his words to follow.
His cheek was still red from being struck by the empress, but his expression was extremely calm.
It was an incredible appearance for someone who had been brought in and insulted like a criminal.

 

The emperor looked at the nuisance with eyes deepened in confusion.

 

He could not find any charges of conspiracy.
The prediction that the escaped Isabelle’s destination would be Bastian Klauswitz’s residence was correct, but other than that, everything was not as speculated.

 

Bastian, who was out before the summer palace was turned upside down, had a luncheon with the Lutz financiers, then moved on with some of them to a social club.
Bankers and senators and naval generals.
It seemed obvious that the guest list also had nothing to do with Isabelle.

 

In the afternoon, he (Bastian) visited his doctor and received a medical examination of the injuries he had sustained during the battle of Trosa, and after that he met Odette. 

 

He (Bastian) took the child to the high-end dress shop and bought her a great amount of gifts.

 

Even more surprising than that was the fact that shortly thereafter he (Bastian) met Duke LaViere at Reinfeld Hotel.

 

Although he (Bastian) was a reprehensible opportunist weighing the niece of the Emperor of Berg and the daughter of the Pelia nobleman in both hands, at least it seemed clear that he had nothing to do with Isabelle.
The Emperor’s eyes sank even colder as he reflected on that fact.

 

While Bastian Klauswitz was having a steadily self-serving weekend, his daughter drugged her nanny with sleeping pills, stole a maid’s clothes, and rode a cart.

 

The fact that the end of that abject escapade was a public exposition and humiliation made the emperor’s heart even more miserable.

 

It was not that he didn’t know that Bastian was doing his best.

 

By not keeping the Princess, he (Bastian) eliminated any room for speculation, and also cut off Isabelle’s vain lingering feelings with a single knife.
No matter how thoroughly he (Emperor) kept people’s mouths shut, he could not be able to cleanly erase what Isabelle had committed.

 

In that case, it would have been better to make it an accident stemming from her childhood unrequited love.
It would be a scandal within the lines that could be rectified somehow.

 

But that fact had come too far to be an indulgence.
It was not just a problem limited to one foolish Isabelle. 

 

How far would the ambition of this person, who even stole the heart of the Princess, reach?

 

The fact that he could hardly fathom it made the emperor’s heart ache.

 

“The first princess of Berg (Isabelle).
The daughter of Duke LaViere (Sandrine).
And even Odette.
Are there any other women I need to know besides these names, captain?”

 

The Emperor posed the question in the most direct way.

 

“Tell me, Bastian Klauswitz, who are you?”

 

“Please command, Your Majesty.
That person will be me*.” (*I’ll be whoever you want me to be)

 

Bastian answered without the slightest hesitation.
The trustworthy low-pitched voice and straight gaze made the slick flattery plausible.

 

“If I command, will you do anything?”

 

“Yes.
That’s right.”

 

“That’s admirable.
Truly, you’re befitting the soldier who is called a hero.”

 

The emperor laughed sarcastically and opened the cigarette box.

 

The naval battle that made Bastian Klauswitz a naval hero took place in the Trosa Islands in the North Sea.
It was a battle that started when Lobita, who was in a confrontation over military strategic points and resource mining rights, made a preemptive strike.

 

Berg’s ships, which were inspecting the nearby waters, were caught in fire without even having time to form battle lines.

The worst thing was that the captain who came out after hearing the news, was hit by debris from the broken deck and lost consciousness.

 

In a combat situation in which the captain was absent, this officer in front of him (Emperor), Bastian Klauswitz, was to take over command of the ship.

 

Judging that it would be difficult to engage in an artillery battle with the already heavily damaged hull, he responded to the enemy’s attack by rapidly changing the course of his battleship.

 

It was a decision made based on the judgment that Berg’s ship, which was charging into the command ship with the admiral of Lobita’s aboard, was superior in maneuverability.

 

When the Berg army, which was expected to take a defensive position, opted for a frontal breakthrough, the panicked enemy fleet’s battle line was disrupted.
The bombardment stopped when the battleship, which had been sprinting through the gap, pierced the bow of Admiral Lobita’s command ship.
So captain Klauswitz’s strategy of not continuing with indiscriminate attacks that might sink friendly ships if done poorly paid off. 

 

In the hand-to-hand combat that followed, the Berg army gained the upper hand.
In the meantime, the support fleet arrived, and by the time the enemy line was completely disrupted by the bombardment with daunting firepower, the young captain captured the old admiral of the enemy army.
It was a perfect victory, receiving Lobita’s white flag surrender.

 

Upon receiving the report of the Battle of Trosa, the emperor was seized with a dumbfounded mood for a long time.
It was certainly the glory and joy of the Empire, but on the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling bewildered.

 

Battle on ships.

 

Things that had only been seen in the military science books of the last century, which had disappeared as they moved into the era of long-distance firepower, were now in front of his eyes.
Grenades, swords.
Rifles and pistols.
Just looking at the names of the weapons that were unlikely to be seen in naval battles, the aspect of the melee was drawn.

 

The Enemy vehemently accused Berg of unleashing the devil’s hounds into the North Sea.
It wasn’t something that the provocateur would make a fuss about, but it was emotionally understandable.

 

If Bastian Klauswitz had been the commander of the enemy army, he (Emperor) would have made the same assessment.

 

The defeat at the Battle of Trosa severely weakened Lobita’s navy.
On the other hand, the Berg Army’s grip on the North Sea had grown even greater, so Captain Klauswitz definitely deserved to be called a hero.

 

But what if the odds he were to get out of control?

 

It was impossible to completely trust a fierce dog who could turn and bite its owner at any moment.

 

The more the emperor learned of Bastian Klauswitz’s temperament, the more his fear grew.

 

Bastain was not one to submit to authority and order.
But he was also clever enough to exploit it.

 

Then what kind of leash should he be tamed?

 

The Emperor let out a worried sigh and rose from his seat.
Approaching the window, he pulled back the curtains to review the gardens and the Prater River beyond.
He could feel the presence of Bastian quietly following him, but the emperor didn’t look back.

 

“Even if it was against your will, you have tarnished the honor of my daughter and the imperial family.
And this is not just a marriage of a princess, but a serious matter of the entire empire.”

 

The emperor, who had erased the traces of a father who was tired of being tormented by his spoiled daughter, wore a face of regained dignity of a monarch of the empire.
Bastian lowered his head as if to say he understood.

 

The marriage between the Princess of Berg and the Crown Prince of Belov had to be concluded.

 

Having experienced the rapidly changing international situation while serving on the frontlines, Bastian knew that fact better than anyone else.
In order to keep Lobita’s growing naval power in check, cooperation with Belov was necessary.
Princess Isabelle’s marriage was to be the very foundation of that alliance. 

 

“I too hope that the military alliance with Belov will be concluded successfully, Your Majesty.”

 

“Then I will tell you directly.”

 

The emperor with his hands behind his back turned around.

 

“If Isabelle’s love causes a problem with this national marriage, if the security of this empire is threatened because of it, I will never forgive you.
It doesn’t matter that it’s not your fault.
It doesn’t matter that you’re not a sinner.
You have already caused enormous damage to the imperial family by your very existence.”

 

“I plan to go to the frontline again.
It seems that permission from the superiors will be given only this fall, but if Your Majesty gives an order to the Admiralty, I will go out immediately tomorrow.”

 

“Do you think this matter can be rectified with just that?”

 

The emperor’s narrowed eyes began to glow coldly.

 

***

 

As the outskirts of the city got closer, the carriage became less and less crowded.

 

More than half of the seats were empty, but Odette was still standing, leaning against the pillar by the door.
The lights of the city that illuminated the deep night passed over her vacant eyes.

 

Bastian Klauswitz was absent.
It seemed that he was still with his lover.

 

However, Odette, unable to leave, begged for at least an answer to the question of whether her father had ever visited this mansion, and the good-natured old butler accepted her request.

 

Her father did not go there today.

 

Odette was barely relieved by the news.

 

But he had once met Bastian without a prior appointment.

 

The moment she heard the unexpected news, her heart sank.

 

Odette was relieved that she hadn’t met the man.
If she had met Bastian face to face, she would have been too ashamed to bear it.

 

She left a message, so she would hear from him soon.
No, it was fine if she was ignored forever.
She rather hoped that would be the case.

 

Holding back the tears in her heated eyes, Odette got off at the last stop.
She checked the hem of her skirt, which she had already arranged several times, and touched her hair.
She knew that wouldn’t loosen the wrinkles in her heart, but she felt like she could bear the weight of this life only if she had to shake the idiotic expectations.

 

She felt like she could finally understand why the man spoke of her father today.
It was only natural, since she had already experienced her father’s violent behavior.

 

But why did he entrust so many things with the next promise?

 

The question that was difficult to find an answer to made Odette even more miserable.
She wished she had told him honestly.

 

She didn’t want to continue the play anymore.
She never wanted to see him again.

 

“Ugh.
I’m so sick of it, it’s starting again!”

 

Feeling empty all over, she walked down the night street and opened the door of the townhouse, only to hear an irritated shout.

 

It was the building manager’s wife.

 

“Go upstairs and do something.
I can’t live with the noise.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“What? They are fighting in that house again.”

 

Mrs.
Palmer began to express her accumulated complaints with her eyes wide open, but Odette could hear nothing more.

 

She knew she had to dash up the stairs to stop her father and Tira.
To clean up the mess.

 

It was a familiar thing that had been repeated countless times already, but she couldn’t move her feet.
She felt the urge to turn around and run out into the night streets again.

 

Forgetting her father and Tira, forgetting her status like a leash that suffocated her, going far far away.

 

“I’m sorry, ma’am.
Please understand one more time.”

 

In the end, Odette, unable to turn around, bowed her head in place of her father and Tira.

 

Mrs.
Palmer, who had rained her with ferocious complaints, walked away unhappily, her footsteps expressing her displeasure.

 

Odette sighed and hurriedly started running up the stairs.

 

“You can’t do that!”

 

As she reached the final landing, she heard Tira’s scream that took her breath away.
And soon after, her father jumped out through the open front door.
Tira was clinging to his arm.

 

“Can’t you let go!”

 

“Give me my money! Give me! It’s mine!”

 

The fight between the two over the box containing emergency money was getting more and more violent.

 

“Father!”

 

Tira shouted and pushed her father as hard as she could as he was about to raise his hand.

 

Struggling to keep his balance, her father let out an ear-piercing scream as he fell down the stairs.
It happened in an instant.

 

Rushing to her father who was lying in a grotesquely distorted shape, Odette collapsed on the spot, unable to even scream.

 

The dark red blood that crawled across the floorboards, wriggling like a living creature, soaked the hem of Odette’s skirt.

 

The trembling Tira let out a fierce cry, shaking the old building.