"The sun's already set. What's this all about?"
Venum Thesaurus, the 8th Battalion Commander of the Central Branch, entered the small conference room with a swaggering gait. Since he was even taller than the Commander, those gathered inside started to rise from their seats, thinking their leader who had summoned them had arrived—then stopped short.
"It must be about the peninsula matter. You weren't planning to leave work on time at a time like this, were you?"
Noel Presentia, the 11th Battalion Commander who had arrived at some unknown time, grabbed Venum's shoulder tightly with a bright smile. Venum roughly shook him off as if to say, don’t touch me, and glared at him with an unwelcoming expression.
"Don't act like we're close."
Beyond Noel, who shrugged and went in first, withdrawing his hand, Meterion came into Venum's view, sitting with his arms crossed and eyes tightly closed.
Meterion had already shed his combat uniform and changed into a snow-white dress uniform. Venum deliberately passed in front of him, checked his face, and casually remarked:
"Did you get some special treatment? Rivera's dark circles were down to her chin, but you look good."
"Thesaurus, are you crazy? Why are you picking a fight with someone who just got back from hell?"
Verity Sharma, the 5th Battalion Commander sitting next to Meterion, snapped at Venum. Meterion furrowed his brow and half-opened his eyes, but didn’t add anything since someone else was already scolding Venum. He just closed them again, making a show of being tired.
Though the number of people was still small, since not everyone had arrived yet, the atmosphere in the conference room became noticeably unsettled with Venum's entrance. Andreas, the 4th Battalion Commander, who had hurried back on his way home and was straightening his loosened tie, muttered as he saw the dark shadow flickering at Venum's feet:
"That guy—he's especially troublesome today."
"Looks like the nasty seven-year-old came out today."
Maria Angel, the 9th Battalion Commander with a friendly smile, answered Andreas's muttering, saying she liked the rare liveliness.
The 8th Battalion Commander, Venum Thesaurus, could handle shadows—or rather, it was more accurate to say he had become one with several of them. The shadows that lingered at his feet each had different genders, ages, and personalities, and Venum's tone and behavior would change depending on which shadow took the lead at any given moment.
However, since he couldn't control it at will, it sometimes looked to others like an inconvenient ability, as though he occasionally lost his sense of self. But Venum could also partially control darkness, a higher concept than shadows, and he had a secret technique of absorbing wandering shadows to uncover information or secrets.
The downside was that the many shadows mixed in would spread rumors or lies, lowering their reliability... Anyway, seeing that Venum was particularly talkative today, it seemed a meddlesome shadow seeking attention had taken the lead.
Meanwhile, the conference room door opened and closed several times as other battalion commanders arrived one after another. When Delua, who was said to have dark circles down to her chin, appeared, unlike with Meterion, most gave a light applause to show appreciation for her hard work.
Despite being soaked in fatigue, she expressed gratitude for the welcome, greeted her long-unseen colleagues one by one, and then took a seat. Deputy Commander Shorendo casually approached Delua and asked quietly:
"Battalion Commander Rivera, do you know why the Commander called us in?"
"Huh? Well, I haven't heard anything specific beyond the personal order... Maybe it's a briefing on the peninsula situation?"
"Hmm... I suppose that must be it?"
Shorendo nodded in agreement and once again told Delua she’d worked hard. But after returning to his seat, he somehow looked full of questions. It wasn’t the first time they had gathered at such a late hour, but it was strange that only battalion commander-level officers were summoned, excluding people who were usually the main attendees of important meetings, like deputy commanders and adjutants.
Even so, the summoned individuals kept arriving, and soon there was barely a minute left until the assembly time. Everyone had gathered in one place, except for two battalion commanders who had said they couldn’t attend because they were in other regions, the 2nd Battalion Commander Loren Opience who had passed along the summons, and Commander Agrizendro himself. It was the highest attendance in recent meetings.
Since the Commander usually appeared five minutes before the start of a meeting, the battalion commanders occasionally checked their watches while waiting for Hugo, who still hadn’t shown. Nevertheless, no one complained about being called out suddenly at such a late hour. The fact that the person who was likely the most exhausted on the day of returning from the subjugation had issued the summons meant it was an extremely important matter.
Because of that, some had agreed beforehand to cheer when the Commander-in-Chief entered, regardless of the reason for the summons. And just then, as if the last person to enter had barely slipped in, the familiar voices of two people carried in from the corridor through the slightly open conference room door.
As the voices became clearer, some pushed back their chairs and stood up. Just as they were about to clap under Deputy Commander Shorendo's lead, raising their palms—
However, the conversation beyond the door sounded more ominous than expected.
"Wait, Hugo. It's not certain yet, so don't push too hard."
"Not certain? Do you know what almost happened because of this?"
Following Loren's urgent restraint, unlike her usual self, Hugo's angry retort echoed down the corridor. Those gathered in the conference room sensed something was off and traded glances. About five seconds later, the heavy soundproof door burst open.
Bang–!
A loud noise rang out as the door collided with the wall. Simultaneously, a chilling cold brought by the Commander spread throughout the conference room. The atmosphere froze in an instant, and Hugo's gaze swept across the gathered battalion commanders as he appeared.
His blue eyes were terribly bleak and ominous, as if ready to seize and punish someone. The hands of the battalion commanders who had been about to applaud instinctively lowered.
Only Shorendo, looking around with a bewildered face, cautiously offered a word:
"Um, Commander. You've worked hard—"
Loren, who appeared next, frowned and shook her head vigorously as if to say don’t. Because of that, Shorendo's weak voice quickly died ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) out, and the other battalion commanders fell silent as well.
Meterion, who had been sitting alone indifferently, unfolded his arms and slowly stood when the situation unfolded differently than expected. Hugo walked toward the head seat, meeting each battalion commander’s eyes with a fierce stare. The sound of his military boots crossing the quiet conference room seemed unusually loud.
Eventually, when everyone's attention was fixed on one point, Hugo held out the handcuffs he had brought without preamble.
"Do you know what this is?"
The mana-restraining handcuffs dangled and swayed, reflecting the ceiling light. Everyone knew they were handcuffs, but the Commander surely wasn’t asking for that obvious answer.
As the atmosphere suggested that saying the wrong thing could lead to serious trouble, everyone stayed silent, passing the responsibility to answer to one another.
Even Shorendo, who was usually smooth-talking, couldn’t easily open his mouth now. He only mouthed at Loren, who stood beside Hugo, asking what was going on.
But Loren also stayed silent, her expression complicated. As a result, an uncomfortable silence stretched for ten seconds, and Hugo lightly shook what he was holding before abruptly throwing it forward. Though he clearly didn’t throw it hard, the result wasn’t light.
A clear mark appeared where the corner struck the large table. The heavy handcuffs and chain clattered as they rolled to the center and came to a stop.
"..."
"..."
Some shoulders flinched at the loud sound, and everyone's eyes widened at the Commander’s behavior—something they had never seen before.
The silence that followed was incomparably bleaker than before. In it, Hugo quietly opened his mouth.
"Answer me. Why are old-style mana-restraining handcuffs here?"
It didn’t take long for the battalion commanders to react to the words old-style. Murmurs rippled through the room, and Hugo let out a small sigh, his eyes sharp as he addressed them:
"The person who wore these old-style handcuffs was Leonardo Blaine, who went on the expedition to the peninsula. He had to endure a difficult time throughout the subjugation because of side effects he didn’t understand, and because of that, he had to be kept under close watch by the commanders, myself included. You all know why without me having to spell it out. Battalion commander-level officers should know old-style handcuffs cause serious control instability."
"..."
"Then you should also understand what it means for these handcuffs to be here."
Hugo, who had been speaking calmly, bit his lip hard and lowered his head for a moment. Then he slowly closed his eyes, opened them, and raised his voice—rare for him:
"Because of this, one person was almost buried alive! Because of someone's intention or mistake, an innocent person almost became a murderer!"
His anger, which he could barely suppress, leaked through clenched teeth. The intense cold seemed to devour the air, making it hard for the battalion commanders to breathe.
"If Leonardo Blaine hadn't been an exceptional control user, the chance of an accident happening because of this would have been one hundred percent. On the peninsula, already full of danger, we couldn't trust our allies, and he had to fight in a situation where he couldn't even trust himself—"
"..."
"Didn't we agree that responsibility for the armory and the equipment management rooms would rotate among the battalion commanders to eliminate corruption and irregularities? So how did this happen? Do I really have to suspect and monitor my subordinates one by one?"
Among the half-lowered white uniforms, Hugo's navy-blue combat uniform, stained with the hardships of the past, stood out sharply. He looked around with a cold gaze at his subordinates, who couldn’t utter a single word—whether from shock or guilt.
As Loren watched, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, worried. Hugo glanced back briefly, realizing he’d gotten overly heated, and let out a small sigh. Eventually he furrowed his brow, squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again.
"Those who were in charge of the equipment management room right before the expedition, and those who have visited the manufacturing facility within the last three months—step forward."
He ordered the battalion commanders in an even colder voice. As it rang out, they looked around, checking one another’s reactions.
After a moment of silence, three people who had been seated far apart each took a step forward. Everyone's eyes locked onto them, and the three walked steadily to the front.
The 11th Battalion Commander Noel Presentia, who bowed his head as if ready to accept any criticism. The 8th Battalion Commander Venum Thesaurus, who clicked his tongue, uncomfortable with the atmosphere. And the 3rd Battalion Commander Meterion Clinder, who looked annoyed that things had come to this, stood in order before the head seat.
