a military tent in the wastelands [https://i.imgur.com/xcIAY6J.jpg]

“Go teach in the academy.”

These were the words that greeted me when I met my senior again. The commander of this front and one of the most decorated leaders among the human forces—the Duke of Blood and Iron.

This would be an important conversation. The Duke went straight to the point whenever crucial topics came up. It was something I knew better than most others.

I pulled a chair away from his table and sat down, my legs in front and my hands on my knees. This tent was one of the few places on the retreating lines big enough for two people to sit facing each other.

“So,” I said, an annoyed smile on my face. “What is this new thing?”

The Duke did not look into my eyes. His fountain pen scritched as it glided against the rough paper. Once done, he folded the paper, set it inside an envelope, and put it on a pile on his left. It was a mechanical process. The Duke then picked up one of the many sheets from the pile on his right. They were most likely for the families of the fallen.

“The war is over, Ethan.” The Duke did not stop his work even as he spoke.

“It is. And I made quite the bank in the war. I was hoping I could throw all my money in a lake or something!”

The Duke’s eyes flitted my way for a second before the sound of his pen flowed again.

“Did you say you wanted to go to the frontier?” The Duke asked.

“I can’t return home anyway…” It had been eight years since I last went home. My elder brother and younger brother had too large an age gap, and my sisters had no interest in the county. The power between the siblings was balanced. If I went back home now, they might see it as my intent to interfere in the succession.

Not might, they will definitely perceive it as my intent to interfere. If, by some miracle of the sun god, people believed that I didn’t want to be the Count, my ambitious father—who sent a child to war for achievements—wouldn’t.

Ah, the life of a soldier was troublesome in another world. How kind would the world be if everyone could ask everyone else what their plans were before pushing something on them?

On that note, this man in front of me was no better.

”You know best, Ethan. It is not like the Demon King is dead.”

“The hero party injured him gravely.”

“Injury is only a temporary respite for us. Even if he doesn’t interfere again, the demonic lands continue to exist. The other half of the world is still dangerous.”

The Duke’s words made logical sense. Even if the demon king was dead, the demons weren’t. They could reunite and launch another crusade against this side of the world anytime. The words held logical sense, but the topic was irrelevant. The war had ended, and now anyone who knew anything about anything would worry about another place.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

It was a rather famous saying. The difference between an empire and a kingdom was where its enemies lay. If a kingdom would worry about enemies outside, an Empire would worry about enemies inside.

Now, if something as tiny as an Empire—and forgive my treasonous thoughts as a loyal citizen of the Empire—was worried about enemies inside. Where, then, would be the worries of a legion made by uniting all the races? All of man kind, elf kind, beast kind, and whatnot kind?

Where would its enemies be after the external threat was gone?

The Duke stopped writing the letters and leaned back in his chair. I saw an odd sight today. The Duke of Blood and Iron, the same man who did not hesitate to lead us back even in the gravest of troubles, now held a letter with a deep frown.

“Jeremiah Sanders…” the Duke said. His eyes were stuck on the letter. “I knew this child, patted his shoulders when he joined.”

I listened quietly to his musings.

“He died in the final battle. When he heard that the Hero Party was successful, he charged in with greater strength at the line of demons and was hacked to death.”

It was a sad tale but one too common. Anyone could have become one of these stories at any moment in these last eight years, and many did.

“A pity,” I said. “May the lord of light grant his family strength.”

The Duke and I closed our eyes in respect. After a few seconds, the Duke broke the silence.

“Poison or a sword may kill you, Ethan, but no death is as certain as one brought by zeal.”

The Duke’s words may have been about a soldier even more down the line than I was, one at the bottom—but his intent was for those at the top.

The world was at peace, and the other kingdoms and races were sure to be full of zeal. The enemy in front of them was gone. It was their chance to turn their backs and point their blades at each other’s necks.

Who disliked power? For power, everyone was at risk. Everyone was willing to risk.

It was the Empire at the very line between the demonkind and the rest of the world, so naturally, it was the great and glorious empire that would be most concerned about the threats from the other kingdoms.

“Is that not why we have orders, sir?” I said. “A strict hierarchy.”

It was to keep these zealous deaths in control—the worst of deaths.

The Duke of Blood and Iron placed his hand on the table and stared into my eyes. A silent pressure formed in the room. It wasn’t overbearing, but honest. The Duke was not issuing a command but expressing his concern.

“The Academy in Glorenstein will have new students joining it this year to mark the beginning of peace.”

I crossed my hands at his words.

“The Empire is at its weakest. We are in danger. If the demons, by any chance, attack again, we will be the first to go down.”

The Duke of Iron and Blood picked up another letter and handed it to me.

“Children, scions, the future of the rest of the world would be joining the academy. We have prepared a special class for them.”

The letter was addressed to me. I flipped it open and read through the contents. It was an offer to become the class teacher for this special class in the academy city of Glorenstein.

“We need a trusted force to keep them in control.”

Once again, this stupid silver tongue and my openness to friendship had screwed me over. My name must have naturally popped up in the conversation between the powers that be.

“I am friends with people from all over the freedom legion... And a weak little soldier like me can never prove a threat to the students.”

I could see why they would do this.

“Weak what? What did you smoke?”

“Weak little old me…”

I folded the letter again and placed it in the pockets of my military coat. The Duke smiled at my actions. Of course, I was going to accept this.

“It is a sudden responsibility. You should take someone from your corps along.”

Dusting my thighs, I chuckled at the Duke’s words. This was likely the last time I could address him as my commander and not the noble that he was.

“I am no monster to force them into another mission after eight straight years of war.”

The Duke lowered his gaze at those words. Roundabout jabs were all I could do, and I was not ashamed of them!

“I’ll go to Glorenstein now. I wanted to spend the money anyway, and many new things roll out of that place.”

I straightened my back and brought my fist to my chest.

This was the last salute I gave my commander. I would always remain a soldier, just off duty.

“You’re dismissed, Ethan Kalenice.”

I lowered my hand and walked out of the tent. As I raised the flap, the Duke’s voice stopped me.

“The war is over, Ethan.”

A grin left me.

“Our work isn’t.”