MIGHT AS WELL BE OP-Chapter 393: Grand Marshal Alaric
On a distant floating island, far removed from the quarters where the newly appointed Private rank soldiers resided, Colonel Vazeryth strode with quiet purpose.
His footsteps were measured and light, his posture impeccably upright, and his gaze devoid of expression, an embodiment of disciplined composure.
As he passed by various soldiers who offered respectful greetings, he remained silent, neither acknowledging nor returning a single word.
He continued onward, undeterred and uninterrupted, his pace steady and his demeanor unchanged.
Ascending a flight of stairs, he reached the uppermost floor of one of the island's buildings.
Traversing a brief corridor, he came to a halt before a particular door, its presence seemingly awaiting him.
With a weighted exhale, Colonel Vazeryth raised his hand and knocked twice upon the door.
Then, like a sentinel carved from stone, he stood motionless, his silence as resolute as his posture.
A moment passed.
Then another. Seconds gathered into a full minute, yet no response came.
Still, he did not shift, nor did his patience waver. He waited, calm and composed.
At last, after five more minutes had slipped by, the door clicked softly and unlocked, swinging open of its own accord.
Without hesitation, Colonel Vazeryth entered with calm, measured steps.
The door closed behind him soundlessly, without so much as a gesture from him.
Colonel Vazeryth's gaze settled upon a figure seated behind a desk, quietly sifting through a stack of documents.
He came to a halt before the individual, a human, and said nothing.
As he had done before the door, he simply waited, composed and still.
He would not speak until granted permission to do so.
Fortunately, this silence did not stretch on for another five minutes.
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At last, the man lifted his head, meeting Colonel Vazeryth's eyes with a calm, focused gaze.
There was no need for him to project his aura or assert dominance.
His very presence alone thickened the air with a quiet yet undeniable raw power, but perfectly restrained.
"You are finally here, Colonel Vazeryth"
The voice that spoke was calm, yet carried the unmistakable weight of command.
"I am, Grand Marshal Alaric"
Colonel Vazeryth replied, his tone steeped in utmost respect.
Though he stood as a man of the esteemed Exarch mana rank and held the authoritative title of Colonel, his presence seemed to pale before the figure seated across from him.
In the military hierarchy, rank may outrank raw power, but such a notion often proves redundant.
Without personal strength, no one could even survive the battlefield, let alone earn the merits required for promotion.
And so, one could only imagine the sheer magnitude of power harbored within Grand Marshal Alaric, a being whose very title hinted at strength far beyond the visible.
"Begin your report"
Grand Marshal Alaric's voice rang out, measured, composed, yet bearing the unmistakable weight of command.
It was not a request; it was an order.
Colonel Vazeryth complied at once, beginning from the very start.
He recounted the first military trial, the unrelenting assault of demonic waves.
Then he moved on to the second trial: the Adaptive Combat Slime.
From there, he detailed the results of the recruits' year-long training regimen, culminating in the final phase, the Baptism.
"I've personally assessed every recruit in this year's cohort"
Colonel Vazeryth stated, his tone firm but objective.
"Many display considerable potential. However, there are those who fall short. I do not believe they possess the capacity to progress within the military"
He paused, allowing the weight of his judgment to settle.
"I recommend they be relieved of their duties and discharged from service"
With that, his report came to a close, and silence returned to the room.
Grand Marshal Alaric gave a subtle nod in response to Colonel Vazeryth's words.
"Colonel"
He began, his voice calm, laced with quiet wisdom.
"I understand your concern. You may believe these less gifted recruits are walking toward inevitable death. But death… is eternal. Even I, with the longevity afforded to me, will one day fall"
His gaze was steady, his words deliberate.
"You cannot tell someone their dream is too grand. That is a truth they must come to realize on their own. Reality only settles when it's experienced firsthand"
He leaned back slightly, allowing his next words to settle into the room.
"Moreover, the military has need of the untalented, just as every institution, every facet of life, relies upon the ordinary. They may not shine in the eyes of others, but they shoulder the burdens, perform the labor, and keep the machinery of the world turning"
As his voice faded, his gaze drifted from Colonel Vazeryth to one of the files on his desk, the weight of his words lingering in the air.
"If we dismissed every individual for lack of talent"
Grand Marshal Alaric continued, his voice soft and unexpectedly gentle, an odd contrast to the magnitude of his rank.
"Then who, I wonder, would handle the mountain of paperwork before me?"
He glanced down briefly at the files, then back toward Vazeryth.
"Even your right hand is but a Corporal, an unremarkable one in terms of talent. And yet, if you took even a moment to reflect, you'd realize just how much of your burden he quietly lifts"
His words, though calmly spoken, carried undeniable clarity and weight.
Colonel Vazeryth gave a slow nod, absorbing the insight.
Then, with quiet deference, he replied.
"I understand, Grand Marshal"
"What are your thoughts on Null Anthony?"
Grand Marshal Alaric asked, his tone casual, yet laced with underlying interest.
Colonel Vazeryth responded without hesitation.
"I would label him an anomaly"
He stated.
"At just nineteen, his aptitude is staggering, flawless across every field he's engaged in. He defies categorization, even when measured against the highest standards reserved for so called monsters"
At his words, a faint smile curved Grand Marshal Alaric's lips.
"Indeed"
He murmured.
"The son of two Supreme Monarchs… with a third as his grandfather"
His voice was calm, but the truth it carried was immense.
To possess the direct backing of three Supreme Monarchs, beings who stood at the pinnacle of the military, was equivalent to wielding authority parallel to that of the military itself.
Such a person was beyond reproach, beyond challenge.
Untouchable.
Anthony was the true reason behind Colonel Vazeryth's visit.
There was simply no plausible scenario in which a figure as exalted as a Grand Marshal would personally concern himself with recruits who had yet to step onto a battlefield.
Individuals of such stature lacked both the time and inclination to acknowledge unproven soldiers.
Not until they had accomplished something of significance.
Even someone of Colonel Vazeryth's standing would typically pay no heed to recruitment matters.
The trials, the assessments, the screenings, these were responsibilities delegated to those of the Corporal rank.
In truth, even if a recruit of remarkable talent had emerged, the higher echelons of the military would not be informed until after the completion of their one year foundational military training.
Yet, one singular individual had altered the course of procedure.
Null Anthony.
Though Anthony had yet to accomplish anything within the military to justify such focused attention, the mere name NULL carried with it an immense weight.
That name alone was enough to warrant scrutiny from the highest echelons of the military.
For even as a newly minted Private, Anthony wielded considerable indirect authority.
Grand Marshal Alaric himself had personally reviewed every one of Anthony's battle recordings from the very moment he had entered the military base, recognizing the potential in him long before any official achievement had been made.
"Proceed as arranged, then"
Grand Marshal Alaric said, his voice cool and composed.
"Let me see what he has in store for us. You are dismissed"
Colonel Vazeryth nodded respectfully and turned, his movements deliberate, as he made his way to the door.
