*******************
Beneath the towering majesty of the Caucasus Mountains, the landscape was painted in hues of serene mystery. A campfire blazed at the heart of a makeshift gathering, its crackling flames a defiant response to the encroaching chill of the night. The dance of firelight cast intricate patterns upon the rugged terrain and upon the faces of the men who had gathered there, seeking solace and company in the embrace of its warmth.
Voices intertwined, punctuated by hearty laughter and hushed murmurs, creating a symphony of camaraderie against the backdrop of nature's grandeur. The men, their breath visible in the frigid air, drew closer to the fire's heart, their faces illuminated by the ever-shifting light. The fire's vivid glow painted their expressions with a palette of gold and amber, rendering each expression a portrait of companionship against the backdrop of the wilderness.
Yet, a short distance away, a figure set himself apart from the group. Seated on a rugged patch of ground, he seemed to exist in a realm of his own making. Engulfed in the radiance of the campfire, a young man was transfixed by the pages of a book held before him. The soft glow of the fire's dance played across his features, casting fleeting shadows that wove an intricate tapestry upon his visage.
In stark contrast to the cold air that enveloped them all, the young man remained impervious. His posture conveyed a sense of resolute focus, a testament to the power of the narrative that unfolded within the pages he held. With every turn of a page, his fingers moved with reverence, like a conductor guiding a symphony of words and emotions.
"Do you not feel the cold?" Yohan's inquiry broke the silence that enveloped them.
Yuvan's insolent response carried a hint of bravado. "I've ridden a motorcycle on a colder night, wearing nothing but a jacket."
Tilting his head slightly, Yohan offered a wry smile. "If you say so, tough guy." Settling beside him, Yohan continued the conversation. "What do you gather from the Führer's manifesto?" His gaze shifted to the book Yuvan was engrossed in.
Yuvan's response was thoughtful, his words chosen carefully. "Hmm... I think this guy is simply using his grandiose cause—fatherland, ideologies—as a veil for his true intentions. To me, he appears as an agent of chaos, one who just wants to see the whole world burn. Consider the current state of affairs: As we face defeat in the war, he directs a considerable portion of his dwindling resources toward the extermination of Jews. Were I in Führer's position, I'd prioritize halting the drain on vital resources and channel them instead into bolstering our own forces. I might even establish forced labour camps, a sort of Gulag, for the Jews. It would harness their manpower to contribute to the nation's economy. After all, why squander a resource that could prove valuable once the war is won?"
A pointed reminder followed. "Do you realize you just criticized the Führer in front of an Abwehr officer?"
Yuvan's retort was swift and unyielding. "No, I didn't criticize the Führer in front of an Abwehr officer, but rather a Semite."
Yohan's surprise was evident, prompting Yuvan to probe. "Are you alarmed?"
Yohan's response was tinged with a knowing confidence. "Look at you and how far you've come in just a few months." It was a recognition of Yuvan's transformation, an acknowledgement that went beyond words. Yohan's history as an individual who had committed acts against Jews was known to Yuvan; thus, there was no fear between them. The unspoken was understood—the secrets shared did not inspire trepidation.
Yuvan's mind involuntarily echoed a quote from Sūnzĭ bīngfǎ: "Know thyself and thy enemy; thou shalt never be defeated."
“It’s time; let's go liberate some trucks,” Yohan declared, casting a contemplative glance towards the distant sky.
Operation Barbarossa had proven to be a costly endeavour for the Nazi forces. As the battlefront struggled, the drain on resources, particularly oil, had become an acute concern. In response, the Führer had ordered Operation Schamil, a mission aimed at securing available oil fields to alleviate the oil crisis. Among the units assigned to this endeavour was Unit Thirteen, with a Freiherr—a German aristocrat—leading them.
By the roadside, Yohan and a select group of men awaited, garbed in the attire of the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs—an organization synonymous with dread among citizens and soldiers alike.
"Reinhardt, a truck is approaching. Should I snipe the driver?" Yuvan's voice resonated from his concealed position. Over time, Yuvan had risen in rank within the unit, becoming Yohan's trusted second-in-command following Liebert's replacement.
"No need for that; let it draw near," Yohan calmly instructed.
As the truck approached, Yohan signalled for it to halt. At the sight of the friendly uniforms, the vehicle complied.
"Zdravstvuyte!" Yohan greeted the driver. "We've received intelligence of an imminent enemy assault on the Maikop oil fields. We require your truck to swiftly reach the location."
"Sir, I'm in the process of delivering essential supplies to a nearby unit, a mere five minutes away. The commanding officer is also present there, and you can address him directly if needed." The driver's response triggered the preparedness of the Abwehr members, ready to respond if necessary.
"Excellent. I shall accompany you," Yohan decided, swiftly boarding the truck and allaying any suspicions. His team held an unshakable trust in his judgement.
An hour later, as Yuvan and the group maintained their vigil, a truck emerged, flanked by an armoured motorcade, advancing toward them. "It's Reinhardt," Yuvan's declaration, issued after a keen observation, echoed through their ranks.
The commander of the opposition unit proved to be a study in indecision. Faced with an officer from the ominous Internal Affairs, he was reluctant to take any actions that could lead to his confinement in the Gulag. Thus, he yielded willingly to Yohan's demands, eager to please the young officer who, in his eyes, held a powerful connection to the higher echelons. "Building alliances with those on the rise is always advantageous," he mused, watching the departing motorcade from his camp.
Embarking on a journey deep into enemy territory, Unit Thirteen advanced under the façade of a Soviet escort. The tumultuous battleground provided cover for their passage, the chaos inadvertently playing into their hands as they posed convincingly as 'official' entities. Arriving at their intended destination—a vital oil production complex—the unit took swift control of the facilities. Yet, despite the initial ease, Yohan's patience was soon put to the test.
Six days passed, marked by an unsettling absence: their own regular forces failed to materialize. Meanwhile, a growing number of troops converged on the facilities, a circumstance that spurred Yohan to reconsider his approach. Adapting to the evolving scenario, he decided to shift his strategy from an inside infiltrator to a role akin to a besieging force.
Yohan issued instructions with precision. His unit embarked on a campaign of controlled explosions, using grenades to simulate the onslaught of artillery attacks. In tandem, another group led by Yohan set out to cripple the communication network, plunging the facility into disarray. Amid this orchestrated chaos, the Freiherr, their supposed leader, offered no resistance to Yohan's plans. Unbeknownst to the aristocrat, he had been manipulated from the outset. Yohan deftly manipulated the situation to ensure that the Freiherr remained unwittingly aligned with his intentions. By massaging the aristocrat's ego and orchestrating circumstances that made him feel in control, Yohan transformed him into a rubber stamp, silently endorsing each of Yohan's decisions. The Freiherr's satisfaction grew in proportion to the results yielded—results that Yohan's ingenious tactics, consistently delivered.
With a meticulously executed plan, the Brandenburgers set their covert operation into motion, weaving a web of stealth that effectively conveyed the illusion of a tightening siege. Seizing the opportunity created by this orchestrated chaos, Yuvan and his team ventured into the room housing the vital network panels. Swiftly and with practised skill, they disabled the main control cables, rendering the communication network useless. Their mission accomplished, they exited the building, hidden amongst the chaos.
BANG!
In the midst of this orchestrated commotion, a gunshot rang out, narrowly missing Yuvan's head as he bent to retrieve his gloves. Yuvan maintained an outward semblance of unawareness, seamlessly blending in with the rushing movement around him. This calculated response concealed his true comprehension of the situation, his awareness extending far beyond the apparent chaos.
Having already mapped out the network room and its surroundings in his mind, Yuvan possessed an innate knowledge of the positions, capabilities, styles, and patterns of each sniper within his unit. He anticipated Lucas's intent and timing, a prediction that proved accurate when Lucas took his ill-fated shot. Yuvan's strategic step count, and the carefully dropped gloves, all were calculated actions meant to outsmart Lucas's attempt on his life. The decision to feign vulnerability was deliberate, backed by Yuvan's switch of Lucas's bullets with dummies before the mission commenced.
Lucas's aim was to eliminate Yuvan amidst the pandemonium, disguising it as an accident to evade Yohan's repercussions—a leader who had expressly forbidden internal conflicts. While Lucas seized an opportune moment to strike, luck was not on his side, much like their previous confrontation. Assuming Yuvan remained unaware due to the relentless explosions and Yuvan's apparent response to being shot, Lucas remained unsuspecting of any retaliation.
The onslaught left all except the Brandenburgers rattled, ensnared by panic and uncertainty. Yohan's figure emerged as a pillar of authority amid the bedlam. Having witnessed Yohan's interactions with their commander and the reverence displayed, and lacking any external means of communication to validate or debunk Yohan's claims, they found themselves compelled to heed Yohan's orders.
With a commanding presence, Yohan seized the spotlight. Impelled by his prior reputation and authority, the troops and officials—bound by circumstances—acquiesced to his lead. Yohan's eloquent plea resonated, urging their evacuation while holding ground. This calculated speech enabled the Brandenburgers to seize multiple functional oil production facilities with minimal resistance, their conquest secured by Yohan's adept manipulation of authority and perception.
The following day arrived with the regular army's presence, prompting the Freiherr to relinquish control of the facilities. His unit received orders to prepare for departure, signalling the end of their operation.
Lying atop the cargo, Yuvan awaited the impending transportation. With his gaze fixed upon the sky, he seemed lost in contemplation, a single thought echoing through his mind: putting an end to Lucas. Abruptly, a voice pierced the air from behind: "Don't kill him!"
Caught off guard, Yuvan jolted upright, startled by the unexpected interruption. Yohan's presence had eluded his senses, making the sudden address even more surprising.
"I need him, for the time being," Yohan's words carried an uncanny insight, as if he could pluck thoughts from the air.
"What if I said no?" Yuvan's response carried a hint of challenge.
"You'd have to overcome me first, asserting your authority. For now, heed my command," Yohan's voice turned frigid, serving as a swift reminder of Yuvan's subordinate position.
"You're well aware of his attempt to end my life," Yuvan's pride retreated in favour of inquiry, seeking understanding rather than confrontation.
"Nevertheless, you still draw breath," Yohan's visage remained devoid of emotion.
"And if he succeeds in his next endeavour?" Yuvan's concern tinged his words.
"Then you are not the man I believed you to be," Yohan's response held an unyielding tone.
"Why the extraordinary effort to safeguard someone like him?" Yuvan's curiosity probed the motives behind Yohan's staunch defence of Lucas.
"He possesses connections that I intend to utilize in the future. You can deal with him later," Yohan's enigmatic reply suggested veiled intentions.
"Is this connected to the sorcery you're researching?" Yuvan's question aimed to unveil the depths of Yohan's designs.
"Yes," Yohan's succinct response confirmed the connection.
"I comprehend, but what do I stand to gain from this arrangement?" Yuvan sought clarity, pondering his role within the intricate web.
"An opportunity to learn," Yohan's words bore a promise of growth.
"To learn what? The universe's secrets?" Yuvan's tone carried a touch of mockery.
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"To understand 'what it means to be strong.' Isn't that why you follow me? To uncover that answer?" Yohan paused, gauging Yuvan's reaction before continuing. "I require individuals like you to achieve my objectives and fulfil my destiny. Strength should be a shared attribute among those in my circle." With those words, he turned away, ascending the waiting, Jeep.
"Continue to follow me, and I will guide you toward the answer you seek," Yohan's final statement lingered in the air, briefly swallowed by the Jeep's departure, leaving only a swirling trail of dust as evidence of his presence.
*******************
Inside the Celestial Hawk Clan Hall,
Tension was palpable as the clan leader and his council convened to discuss the recent developments concerning the clan's reputation. Olivier, a prominent figure within the clan, voiced his frustrations with an air of resentment.
"Clan leader, have you heard what everyone else is saying about our clan? Our rivals are revelling in our downfall. The mere thought of it makes my blood boil, all thanks to that troublemaker," Olivier began, his voice brimming with exasperation. "I warned you about him before; he's nothing but a source of chaos. If we had eliminated him when he was still a child, we wouldn't be facing this disgrace. But no, sentimentality and fear of consequences held you back."
As Olivier continued to speak, his anger caused his breath to quicken and his tone to grow more impassioned. "Now is the opportune moment, sir. He's becoming an obstacle to the succession of our young master. His cultivation and accomplishments have earned him the support of several elders, tarnishing our clan's image and creating hostility with a super-force," he stated, directing his gaze towards the clan leader, Vikramaditya, in anticipation of a response.
"Hmm, what is your perspective on this matter, great elder Adrien?" Henri inquired, turning to his esteemed council member. The query seemed to further ignite Olivier's simmering discontent. Despite once being Vikramaditya's right-hand man, Olivier felt his influence wane as the clan leader distanced himself from him. This change in dynamics had perplexed and irritated Olivier, especially since he played a pivotal role in securing Vikramaditya's ascent to the position of clan lord by manipulating the true heir's legitimacy.
"I think the great elder was a bit hasty with his assessment…” Adrien began, attempting to steer the discussion in a more measured direction.
“Hasty?!” Olivier interjected, snapping out of his chain of thoughts.
“Let him finish!” Henrireprimanded the great elder. "You may continue, Adrien."
Bowing respectfully, Adrien resumed, “The Brandwache clan clearly holds some grudge against us, which is likely the motivation behind their report. The commander in charge's report, along with the squad's statements, describes a conflict that occurred.”
Setting aside the Brandwache clan's involvement for now and considering the validity of the information provided by our own members, there seems to be a significant undertone to this situation, known only to a select few, such as ourselves. The paramount question we must address is how best to leverage this information."
“What do you suggest?” the clan leader inquired.
"I propose that we conduct an official hearing against the commander in charge," Adrien stated calmly, asserting his suggestion.
“That’s what I have been saying all along,” Olivier interjected with a sense of being slighted, his frustration clear in his tone.
"Olivier!" Henri's voice held a note of reprimand, sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room.
Olivier's expression soured, and his companions scowled in response to the sudden outburst. Nonetheless, Adrien continued undeterred, aggravating Olivier further. "We can hold him accountable for bringing dishonour to our clan and inciting hostility with a super-force. By finding him guilty and stripping him of his titles, we can initiate a multi-fold strategy. Firstly, we'll send him back to the desert as an opportunity for redemption, both for him and our clan. This action will quell any potential backlash, especially considering his sizeable following among the elders and others. Furthermore, whether his claims bear truth or not, this approach allows us to mitigate our problems; if he indeed speaks the truth, the harsh conditions will likely claim his life before the full story is known. Conversely, if he has lied entirely, we can label him a traitor and issue an Order for his execution, thereby eliminating all complications at once."
“BRILLIANT!!” Henri exclaimed, showing his approval. “We'll hold a public hearing tomorrow itself; make the necessary preparations. And Adrien, ensure that the young man cooperates fully; a smooth and incident-free hearing is imperative.”
"I shall see to it, my lord," Adrien responded with conviction.
"That concludes today's discussion. You are all dismissed. We will reconvene at the hearing," Henri announced, finalizing their course of action.
On their way out, the great elder beckoned Adrien to his side, his tone playful. "You must be quite pleased with yourself, eh?"
"It's all because of your blessings, great elder," Adrien replied with a deferential nod. However, an undercurrent of concern laced his words. "But I am worried, how would I convince a talented man like Agustin to bow down and accept exile?"
“This punk dares to mock me in my face,” Olivier seethed inwardly, though he refrained from voicing his thoughts. The conversation continued between Adrien and the great elder.
"With your silver tongue," the great elder responded, a wry smile touching his lips, "it will be quite easy to convince anyone."
Before Olivier could express his thoughts, Adrien cut in politely, “Now that I have your blessing, I feel much more confident. Wish me luck, great elder." With a respectful nod, he departed, leaving the other elders amused by the scene. Though his expression remained composed, Olivier was seething with humiliation and anger, vowing silently to repay this slight tenfold in the future.
Adrien walked along the path leading to Agustin's residence, trailed discreetly by spies from other influential elders.
Agustin wasn't inside his house; instead, he was in his stable, tending to his horse. Upon hearing a familiar voice in his mind, Agustin turned around to see Adrien. "Good morning to you, Commander," he greeted aloud, all while receiving the unspoken message through their mental connection. "It's done, he agreed."
Agustin kept his expression neutral, though his mind was buzzing with understanding. "Good morning to you as well, Elder Adrien," he responded. "What brought you to my humble abode this early in the morning? Is everything all right?"
“Did he put up any additional conditions?”
"I'm afraid not," Adrien replied, his thoughts reaching Agustin's mind. "I'm here on official business, and you probably would have guessed why."
“No, he was quite happy with the given conditions.”
Agustin considered the situation. "The Brandwache clan?"
“What about the great elder, didn’t he said anything?”
"Yes," Adrien confirmed. "They are literally dragging our clan's reputation through the mud. And the person responsible for this situation—you—will have to face a trial tomorrow. I'm here to summon you."
“Off-course he tried, but he is still out of favour of the lord.”
Agustin's thoughts were a mixture of frustration and defence. "Face a trial? Why should I? I have already mentioned in the report all the events that took place. You have read it. Tell me one thing: Was defending the honour of a fallen comrade wrong? Was fighting against the Asuras a mistake?"
“Do you expect everything to go on smoothly during the hearing?”
Adrien's response was calm and diplomatic. "Calm down, Agustin. I know where you're coming from, but you have to think from the clan's perspective. You have created a hostile situation against a super force that has close ties to the Naga's. I'm sure they are adding fuel to the fire right now. Besides that, no one else but our squad has witnessed the presence of the Asuras, not even the Zaštitniks could find their traces. Given the circumstances, we cannot protest against the report implicating you as a liar."
“Pretty much.”
Agustin's thoughts reflected his concern. "Then what do you propose?"
“I’m eternally grateful, You have my deepest thanks.”
"The trial itself is the solution to all our problems," Adrien suggested.
“Don’t thank me, I just prepared your death warrant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe, but if it weren’t for you, they would have declared me a traitor and executed me without giving this chance.”
"You want to go back to the desert and continue with your investigations, right?"
“They wouldn’t dare, unlike what you think there are many who want to support you. Just finish what you have to do and come back safely, and I will give you back what was rightfully yours. You can thank me then.”
Agustin confirmed Adrien's assumption. "Yes, I do. Don't twist the subject with your wordplay, and give it to me directly."
“OK, I will hold you to that promise.”
Adrien's tone was serious. "In this trial, you will be poorly reprimanded and will be forced to go back to the desert for more genuine proof that no one can deny."
“It’s a promise then.”
Hmm. How bad would be the reprimand?
“Shouldn’t we finish this show, it’s getting a little dramatic.”
Adrien's tone turned more encouraging. "You see, we need to show the world how serious we are, and an example should be made of you to release the tension..."
“Yes, we should. Your acting skills are horrible.”
Shush! Agustin interrupted with a mixture of frustration and acceptance. "Give it to me straight."
“You are not Brando either.”
Adrien's answer was straightforward. "You will be stripped of all your titles and privileges."
“Hey, don’t ‘shush’ me.”
Agustin turned to his left side, holding his forehead and pressing his temples with his fingers. He took a few long breaths to calm him down.
“OK, this much should be enough, you conclude it.”
Adrien's voice turned more serious. "Agustin, I know it's hard, and you don't deserve any of it. But, think about it, you are an intelligent man. Given the circumstances and the enemies you have in the clan itself, it could have been much worse. Please don't view this as a punishment; take it as an opportunity to take back everything."
Agustin's thoughts shifted from resistance to a begrudging acceptance. "Enough with your petty motivation. I get it, and I accept."
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
Adrien's tone returned to its more formal nature. "As long as you agree. I will meet you at the hearing tomorrow. To keep the crowd low, it will be held in the early morning, so don't be late. Goodbye for now."
Agustin nodded, his gaze following the departing figure of Adrien as he melted into the crowd.
The sun was nearing its zenith as the news of the impending hearing had already spread throughout the clan. Among the crowd, Darryl, along with the other warriors who had followed Agustin before, came running towards him.
"Commander, don't take this injustice lying down, as you always had done. Because this time, if you do, it will be us taking action," Darryl declared, his words echoed by the other warriors gathered around Agustin.
Agustin looked at them with gratitude, but also determination. "Men, listen to me; it's not like before. The clan faces a genuine threat because of me. With the ongoing tussle with the Naga clan, we cannot afford to be in a hostile relationship with a super force."
"But commander..."
"Moreover," Agustin continued, "I see this as an opportunity to go back and unearth whatever sinister plans the Asuras have been hatching. To clear our clan's name and return with even more glory is my aim."
The warriors exchanged glances and nodded, still worried. "Then allow us to join you, commander," one of them urged.
Agustin shook his head. "No, that would defeat the purpose. This is meant to be a punishment specifically for me."
"But commander..."
He held their gazes firmly. "Don't you have faith in my abilities?"
Their voices were firm and united. "We do."
"Then it's settled." Agustin changed the topic, turning to Darryl. "Are the ceremonies over?"
"Yes, commander. They just finished. His friends and relatives are giving their final goodbyes. We will send him off tonight. Uh! And will you meet with his parents?"
Agustin sighed; his expression conflicted. "No, not now. You know about the rumours spreading about me. Meeting the bereaved right now wouldn't be a good idea. I don't want to create a disturbance at my friend's farewell. Emotions are running high, and things might be said that they'll regret later. I'll meet them when I come back. Go back to them; they need your support more than I do."
Months went by, and the A-grade students began reaching the middle stage of their training. Henry was the first to achieve this breakthrough, followed closely by the others. Among the B-grade students, it took a bit longer for someone to make progress. Lucas, fuelled by a burning desire to master the fire-related tantra provided by his family, diligently worked on honing his skills. Lucas had chosen the fire path with a specific goal in mind: to use his mastery of fire to torment Yuvan. He believed that after Yuvan's previous injuries, he would have a deep-seated fear of fire, and this time, Lucas intended to provoke a stronger reaction from him. A wicked smile crossed Lucas's face as he envisioned Yuvan writhing in pain under the flames he conjured.
However, as Lucas successfully generated fire through his own efforts, he couldn't act on his urge to torture Yuvan immediately. The use of tantras outside the training arena was strictly prohibited, even for A-grade students. Breaking this rule would lead to severe consequences, and Lucas didn't consider Yuvan worth the risk. He could challenge Yuvan to a fight, but doing so would lower his own status, as it would seem like he was picking on someone of a lower rank.
Fortunately for Lucas, there was a provision used by the older generation that allowed for challenging certain lower-ranked individuals, particularly those who had provoked considerable annoyance, like Yuvan. The trick was to challenge multiple lower-ranked individuals simultaneously, including the intended target. By issuing a challenge to a group of students, Lucas could maintain his reputation as an A-grade student while targeting Yuvan.
Lucas officially issued a challenge to Yuvan's class for a three-on-one handicap match, which naturally included Yuvan himself. This challenge was seen as an opportunity for the class-C students to finally rid themselves of the fear-inducing Yuvan. Irene, the class representative, promptly contacted Lucas and informed him that the rest of the team would intentionally eliminate themselves at the beginning of the match. She requested that Lucas focus on taking down Yuvan, the arrogant troublemaker.
Lucas paid little attention to Irene's request and moved on with a malevolent grin on his face.
*******************
Amidst an assembly of soldiers and officers, a ceremonial atmosphere hung in the air. The focal point of the scene was the formal presentation of the Knight's Cross, an esteemed accolade of valour and achievement. The Freiherr, the recipient of this distinguished honour, stood with an air of pride, his chest adorned with the emblematic cross. As the dignified gesture unfolded, signifying the recognition of his adept execution in capturing the Maikop oil field, a sense of accomplishment radiated from him.
Yuvan, positioned beside Yohan, keenly observed the proceedings. His gaze shifted between the ceremony and Yohan, a sly smile gracing his lips. In the midst of this moment of celebration and acknowledgement, Yuvan seized the opportunity to interject with a playful jab, a remark designed to elicit a reaction from Yohan.
"He is the one getting the Knight's Cross for your accomplishments," Yuvan quipped, his tone laced with an undertone of amusement. The words, though light-hearted on the surface, carried a subtle edge, hinting at a deeper narrative. Yuvan's gaze lingered on the spectacle of the cross being bestowed upon the Freiherr, his comment functioning as a sly dig at Yohan's intricate manoeuvring.
A mischievous glint danced in Yuvan's eyes as he continued, his words a calculated prod aimed directly at Yohan's composed demeanour. "Do you feel unrewarded?" Yuvan's question, though light-hearted in appearance, concealed a clever probing into Yohan's thoughts and emotions.
Yohan's response emerged with an air of indifference. "This materialistic reward holds little value to me."
Yuvan's voice resonated with a hint of amusement, an undercurrent of banter, as he continued to prod at the situation. "Hah! Sour grapes…" The retort was not meant with malice but rather as a jest, a playful nudge at the disparity between Yohan's stoic response and the potential allure of recognition and rewards.
Yuvan's probing continued, delving into Yohan's motives and aspirations. "But even you cannot deny that it could have smoothed your path towards your mystical pursuits." The question probed at the potential benefits of the reward, acknowledging its potential impact on Yohan's goals.
Yohan's contemplation resonated in his response, his words tinged with a profound understanding of the intricacies at play. "Yes, it certainly would have, yet... everything happens in its own predestined way." The recognition that events are interconnected, and subject to the law of causality, underlined his perspective. Yohan's insight delved into the complexities of the Freiherr's fate, hinting at the impending ramifications of the choices made.
Their conversation expanded to the Freiherr's future, with Yohan shedding light on his intricate manipulation. Yohan's insights hinted at the Freiherr's trajectory; a path carefully influenced by Yohan's machinations.
Yuvan's inquiry shifted towards the Freiherr's future actions, and Yohan's response revealed a deeper layer of his strategy. "No, his pride would hinder that possibility. I have ensured it." The words indicated Yohan's mastery in manipulating the Freiherr's actions, firmly aligning them with his intentions.
A knowing acknowledgement passed between them, Yuvan deducing Yohan's role. "So, it was your doing. No wonder the rumours spread swiftly." The statement carried a hint of realization, understanding Yohan's influence behind the scenes.
The conversation probed further, inquiring into Yohan's intentions. "Was your aim to coerce the Freiherr into acknowledging you, or to corner him into a futile attempt to disprove the rumours?" The question dug into Yohan's motives, seeking to understand the depths of his strategy.
Yohan's response held an air of calculated confidence. "It’s only a ploy; if I don’t move with a solid, foolproof plan, no one can." The words conveyed Yohan's strategic prowess, underlining his mastery in navigating complex situations.
As the ceremony's conclusion neared, Yohan's attention shifted to the General who was looking towards him. Seizing the moment, he moved towards the officer's lounge, his intent now directed towards congratulating the distinguished figure.
Lost in contemplation, Yuvan stood rooted, his gaze fixed upon the vacant space where Yohan had previously occupied.
The call of his name, "Yuvan!" jolted him from his reverie, the voice belonging to Liebert. "Snap out of it; we don't have time for daydreaming. The briefing for the new mission starts in an hour. And where is the captain?" Liebert's query pierced the air.
Yuvan gestured and pointed toward the balcony in response.
As his eyes caught sight of Yohan engaged in conversation with the General, Liebert issued a directive, "Bring Yohan along with you; I'll go and inform the others."
With a nod, Yuvan turned his steps toward the officer's lounge.
Amid the prying glances of fellow officers, he treaded toward the quieter expanse of the balcony.
"Reinhardt! Consider this friendly advice from your senior. Your overly close association with that coolie friend of yours is not going down well with the higher-ups. This toxic relationship will ruin your future. He might be talented, but you should always put your pure-blood Aryan brethren first," the General advised in a tone laden with presumed concern.
Yuvan halted in his tracks, positioning himself near a corner to eavesdrop on Yohan's response before stepping forward.
“Friendship is only possible among equals,” Yohan responded with an air of nonchalance.
While Yohan harboured no racist sentiments, he was willing to manoeuvre as needed for his ambitions. Although the General's words may have been interpreted in Nazi terms, Yuvan recognized the underlying implication. Despite not holding high expectations for Yohan's stance, the words struck Yuvan deeply, akin to a dagger thrust through his heart. After all, he had always considered Yohan his rival, and Yohan's words felt like a rejection of his very existence.
"Well said, Reinhardt!" The General offered a pat of approval on Yohan's back. "You should reduce his involvement in the operations and use him for menial tasks that befit his status."
Yohan's response was contrary. "I would have to disagree with you, sir," he retorted, causing the General's brows to furrow. Yohan continued, his words confident, "While I will follow if it's your command, he is a highly skilled resource. These turbulent times require the utmost utilization of available talents for the glory of our fatherland. Self-interest often motivates people to employ their abilities to the fullest."
With a salute of his glass, Yohan raised it and proclaimed, "Für Vaterland!"
Acknowledging his sentiment, the General nodded, raising his own glass to meet Yohan's. A moment of camaraderie was shared, punctuated by their clinking glasses.
As the conversation continued to unfold, Yuvan's thoughts remained unspoken. Silently, he turned away, departing from the scene. The encounter served as a wake-up call, starkly highlighting his understanding that he paled in comparison to Yohan's peerless genius. While the realization was undeniable, yielding to this truth was not an option. Yuvan's resolve solidified; despite the perceived impossibility, he would persist, determined to stand on equal ground with his rival, Yohan.
*******************