Chapter 17 - He who rised

Major Cestela Vielle reached her rank in an untraditional way. Originally, she applied for the typical route of a knight. This required at least two years of working as a squire in order to watch, learn, and understand the flow of battle and the roles and responsibilities of supporters, squires, and knights. However, the major showcased a scarily large aptitude for mana. And so, she was the first to skip the training of the squire to become a knight and entered the academy directly. But that was quickly erased from history books.

During her second year of the three year program, Cestela Vielle submitted a request to transfer from the knight curriculum to the medic curriculum. This was met with great resistance from both teachers at the academy and those of high rank at headquarters. This was because Cestela Vielle was expected to be the Rising Star of Dernier.

But the Dragonslayer endorsed her transfer. The epithet was fresh and the blood that never spilled was not yet dry so no one could speak against his judgement. As such, she transferred to the medic program. Since the time as squire was not required for medics, there was no longer a precedent being set.

However, Cestela Vielle showed no aptitude for healing. Her mana capacity was unparalleled but she could not translate that power into meaningful healing aura. It was weak. It could not reach those she tried to help. It was a weakness that those of higher position seized.

‘She should be a knight!’ they said.

‘Dernier needs her!’ they would repeat.

But Cestela Vielle no longer had any reason to be a knight. But she didn’t have any reason to be a medic either. She just didn’t want to be a knight.

That was when the Finest Hammer, a family friend to Cestela Vielle, made her a tool and, in turn, made her into a tool. He had intended to help the girl he saw as a niece but would later lament dooming her.

Taking advantage of her outrageous mana control, the apparatus solved the physical limitations of her incredibly short-ranged healing aura by providing metallic filaments to act as a bridge, a physical conduit to deliver her massive mana directly into severed tissue with pinpoint precision. She could be a proper medic supporter.

But such ingenuity came at a cost. When Cestela Vielle first learned of this cost, she was scared, frightened. But she accepted it as her sin for failing to achieve her wish. She told the apprentice of the Finest Hammer in passing and he trained harder than ever to take his father’s place so it could be his too. She told the Dragonslayer to hurt him so that he would add another sin to his list as well.

And she finally commissioned.

Second Lieutenant Cestela Vielle reluctantly lived on. Mission after mission given personally by the Dragonslayer despite other’s disapproval. The requirement to promote to First Lieutenant was to be still capable of fogging a mirror after a year of service.

First Lieutenant Cestela Vielle did just that.

The requirement to promote to Captain was trickier. It required a position to be lethally vacant and for the endorsement of a senior officer in charge of a front. But the Puppeteer of the Battlefield had already long spread her title. Any senior officer would worry about the drop of morale and backlash from their battalions if they made Cestela Vielle a captain.

But senior officers more senior than those, who risked lives far from their own, sat from their iron thrones in the Central District and wanted- no, needed Cestela Vielle to be something more than a first lieutenant.

So they made the unprecedented choice of promoting her straight to major, an elite member of Central that they could use at their disposal at any front.

Major Cestela Vielle did not care. She was annoyed at the sudden increase of workload but she had no real reason to deny. In fact, she saw the opportunity to move out of the Southern District into the disgusting Central District to be some sort of release. From what? She did not know.

After the rank of major, individual merit and political scheming was required to promote anymore and Major Cestela Vielle had no real desire to push either of the two in her favor. So she worked even if she could not put into words why she still woke up every day. In the many years of not knowing, she simply complained.

And today was another reason to complain. As a member of the so-called elite Defenders of the Central District, she was required to attend important conferences. Of course, she would not consider such conferences important. They were always old men and women who haven’t seen green grass in years making problems, solving it, and patting themselves on their back. But this conference was slightly less a reason to complain as Cestela read the plan of the day’s first presentation topic: Results of the 75th Horizon Seekers.

As she entered the assembly hall, she took a seat at the very back next to the exit. While she liked being as far as way as possible from the stage lights upfront, it also coincided with the heavy political game of simply taking a seat.

The numerous starred generals sat in the second row being careful which confidant they chose to seat next to. Single starred generals and those of lieutenant colonel and colonel flocked to seat behind them to physically showcase their support. The bottom-of-the-Central-barrel majors attempted to be seen behind them despite the lights reaching those seats being dim. As such, Cestela Vielle simply sat in the back.

Usually, the highest ranking generals would take the first row as is their supposed right. Cestela was convinced it was more comfortable on their old, aching knees to not have seats in front of them or, perhaps, they liked the way their star insignias sparkled in the stage lights. But their decorum was shuffled back one row as is tradition during the return of the Horizon Seekers.

This simple honor was sometimes the reason for many to volunteer for the suicide squad as it meant sitting right in view of those with much sway in the Defenders. But it meant a chance to not being able to sit down at all.

What was boasted as one of the largest group of Horizon Seekers at the size of a whole battalion, only barely filled up the front row of the assembly hall just short of half a battalion’s worth. A percentage better than most as there were other conferences where the results of the Horizon Seekers were given by those who did not participate and consisted of summarizing the collected journals. But such a percentage applied to a large number was still a large number. There was no mistake that this iteration of the Horizon Seekers faced the greatest total number of casualties. But Cestela knew that Central will boast the former and avoid discussing the latter.

The front row started clapping and cheering.

-“Captain!” “Let’s go!” “Don’t be nervous!”

Among Scouts and Horizon Seekers alike, there was a loophole for promoting to captain. A loophole closer to a noose. They operated far from Dernier with no communication other than signal flares. As such, casualties were not allowed to stop operations. If the original captain dies, the group decides the next. Ironically, a true meritocracy only formed when separated from the iron shackles of society. Upon return, the interim captain is made officially a captain.

The MC announced, “Now presenting the Results of the 75th Horizon Seekers – Interim Captain Solyon Garde.”