I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander

Being promoted to major in the occupied territory felt like a dream.

Or more accurately, a nightmare, to categorize the specific type of dream.

What was even more dreadful was that the series of events I was experiencing wasn’t even a nightmare.

It was reality.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Major Daniel Steiner.”

Lucie’s voice echoed hollowly within the office.

“As you know, the General Staff Headquarters has entrusted you with the acting garrison commander position. With the divisional commander departing with his forces, you will now be in charge of managing the city.”

I know. Looking out the office window, I could see the armored division’s tanks, artillery, and soldiers leaving the city.

Heinrich, who had pinned the major’s insignia on me, was also moving out with his brigade.

Today was the day they were rejoining the Northern Front.

‘Isn’t this a bit too much? Handing over the garrison commander position on the very day of departure!’

I wanted to protest, but shouting here wouldn’t reach Heinrich’s ears.

An involuntary sigh escaped me.

“…How many troops did the division leave for me?”
“A battalion-sized force. The total troop count is 950.”

At least the division had left behind a force nearing maximum battalion strength.

Since Nordia was not a particularly large city, this level of troops should suffice for maintaining law and order.

But that wasn’t the issue.

‘I’ve accumulated too many military achievements unintentionally.’

The repercussions of the feats I had achieved in such a short period had led to my rapid promotion to major.

I had become a senior officer with vastly more authority than a junior officer.

This news would soon reach the Union, and I would be branded a ‘key member of the Imperial military leadership.’

In other words, I was fated to face the gallows through a war crimes tribunal the moment the Empire was defeated.

‘Then should I bet on the Empire’s victory instead?’

No, the odds were far too low.

In an all-out war of attrition, there was no nation in this era capable of defeating the Empire.

However, war was not a fair competition fought within the confines of a ring with a judge presiding.

Just look at how the Union had brought the Kingdom into their alliance.

Enraged by the Kingdom’s breach of neutrality, the Empire was currently swinging its iron fist, but what if the Kingdom, struck by that fist, fell while bleeding profusely?

The great powers would wonder if the Empire was becoming the dominant hegemon.

Fearing this, they would start rushing to lend their strength to the Union one after another.

Notable examples were the Southern Sochiallis Republic and the Northeastern Belreca Federation.

The moment they joined the war, a world war would become a reality.

Suddenly, the Empire would have to face the Republic, Federation, and Union on three fronts, excluding the sea.

Predicting an Imperial victory in such a situation would be akin to a gambler staking their life on long odds.

‘The stake is my life. So I must tread carefully…’

While events had taken an unfortunate turn, nothing had fundamentally changed.

Unless the Empire experienced an outrageous streak of luck capable of reversing the impending disadvantageous situation, realistically, I had no choice but to find a way to escape.

‘Of course…’

With my elevated reputation, seeking asylum through conventional means would be impossible.

It was questionable whether any nation would even accept me, and even if accepted, ensuring my safety would be doubtful.

However, if I proposed a deal the Union could not possibly refuse, the situation would differ.

“Major?”

Lost in contemplation of various possibilities, I started and turned around.

Lucie blinked her crimson eyes, quietly regarding me.

I had momentarily forgotten that Lucie was a Union spy.

With my promotion to major, the likelihood of her attempting an assassination had likely increased.

For some inexplicable reason, I broke out in a cold sweat as unease gripped me, prompting Lucie to tilt her head quizzically.

“My apologies for interrupting your thoughts, but I believe we should start formulating a city plan.”
“Ah, yes, of course.”

Clearing my throat, I tried to act naturally as I leaned back and spoke.

“When it comes to a city plan, the primary focus will be maintaining law and order, right? We simply need to enhance patrols on major streets prone to crime. Administration can proceed according to existing customs…”

I trailed off, realizing the reason Lucie had emphasized formulating a city plan.

“…Don’t tell me the administration has collapsed?”

Lucie nodded.

“Indeed. Most civil servants have fled through fishing vessels, and high-ranking officials like the mayor have all sought refuge from the war.”
“So the administrative system needs to be rebuilt.”

After briefly pondering, I spoke.

“Restoring basic public services is crucial. We should distribute military rations for food and recall any remaining doctors to reinstate medical services. Law enforcement will be a joint effort between the garrison troops and local police. Additionally…”

I cut myself off mid-sentence.

Wasn’t I supposed to avoid diligently carrying out the ‘acting garrison commander’ duties assigned by the General Staff Headquarters?

If my operational capabilities were deemed exceptional, I might continually be tasked with such frontline duties.

Not only would I face assassination threats from the Capital, but conducting operations in distant lands would only increase my chances of dying.

‘In that case…’

Even if it was already too late, I should still struggle to lower my performance evaluation as much as possible.

Let me think this through.

If I revived the city administration in the wrong direction, it would provoke civilian discontent, and if that discontent led to protests or riots, it would essentially expose my incompetence.

The headquarters would then conclude that I was unfit for the garrison commander position.

They would appoint a replacement garrison commander as soon as possible and send them here, shortening the time before I could return to the Capital.

By lowering my evaluation and hastening my return, it would be killing two birds with one stone!

‘Excellent.’

Having settled my thoughts, I flashed a slender smile and spoke.

“Draft the unemployed for compulsory labor duties. A battalion-sized force alone will be short-handed. If you order them to assist the garrison troops with menial tasks, they will understand.”

Assisting the occupying garrison through forced labor? Discontent was bound to erupt.

Not just among those conscripted, but their families and acquaintances would share their grievances.

“Also, we need to reassess the city’s tax rates. What were the existing rates?”
“Unknown. Anticipating defeat, the civil servants burned all related documents before fleeing. However, a survey could provide a rough estimate.”
“No, there’s no need for that.”

Even better.

I could set the tax rates as I pleased.

“From now on, Nordia’s citizens will be subject to a 30% income tax levy under the pretext of raising war funds. For high-income individuals, the maximum rate will be up to 50%.”

The current basic income tax rate for Imperial laborers was 22%.

Considering the ongoing war, it was relatively low, but still a significant increase from the original 12%.

Naturally, even within the Empire, there were murmurs of discontent over the higher rates.

And here I was, blatantly discriminating by setting the basic income tax rate at 30% for Nordia? Discontent was bound to skyrocket.

“Furthermore, to supplement the lacking administrative personnel, post job listings to recruit capable individuals. However, the selection criteria will be based on Imperial standards, not the Kingdom’s.”

Removing the Kingdom’s conventional practices from the civil servant recruitment process.

It amounted to a form of cultural suppression.

This, too, would be more than enough to ignite the Kingdom citizens’ discontent.

After listening to my instructions, Lucie offered a crisp salute.

“I will immediately convey your directives.”

Returning her salute, I turned to gaze out the window once more.

The Empire’s arcane armored division had nearly finished withdrawing from the city.

Citizens had taken to the streets, watching the spectacle with profound emotions.

Observing the citizens evoked a tinge of pity within me.

‘My apologies, Kingdom citizens. Your lives are about to become considerably more arduous.’

But there was no malice behind it.

This was merely what I had to do to survive.

○

Late at night.
Underground of a tavern, Black Falcon Secret Society Council Meeting.

“As you all know, Nordia has fallen into the clutches of those Imperial bastards.”

At the words of the middle-aged man seated at the head, everyone nodded solemnly.

Amid the gloomy atmosphere, Hamtal, the black-skinned leader of the Black Falcons, continued.

“It has been ten years since we began fighting for freedom and equality. Throughout that time, we have endured much, but losing our city to war is a pain none of us have experienced before.”

Hamtal pounded the table forcefully.

“But we have not given up on our city yet! If we eliminate that cruel Daniel Steiner, we may reclaim the city! Is that not so?”

Correct! Voices of agreement echoed from various corners.

Satisfied with their resolve, Hamtal shifted his gaze as the door abruptly opened.

It was the young Tarki, serving as an informant for the Black Falcon secret society.

He carried a bundle of documents.

“Comrades! The garrison has announced their city plan today!”
“So that bastard has finally…! Out with it, then.”

It was a foregone conclusion that the garrison commander would govern the city as he pleased.

Amid the murmurs, Tarki consulted the documents and spoke.

“First, they are imposing compulsory labor on the unemployed.”
“Forcing us to work for the Empire! Outrageous! What has been the citizens’ reaction?”
“Um… The reaction isn’t bad. They’re offering proper wages, and based on the Imperial standard, the exchange rate translates to roughly double the average worker’s income. So many have enthusiastically volunteered.”

Offering proper wages? Stunned by the unexpected response, silence fell before Tarki continued.

“Next is the tax rates.”
“Hah! Tax rates! Of course they wouldn’t miss that. How much have those scum raised them?”
“Well… They’ve set the basic income tax at 30%, with a maximum of 50% for high-income individuals. They’ve actually lowered the rates.”

The secret society members could only blink in astonishment.

The Kingdom’s existing rates were a 45% basic income tax, with high-income individuals taxed up to 70%.

With the war, there were signs of further increases, leaving citizens on the verge of destitution.

Yet the garrison commander, Daniel Steiner, had reduced those rates.

As the members struggled to respond, Tarki scratched his cheek and continued.

“Lastly, regarding civil servant recruitment, they will use Imperial standards instead of the Kingdom’s.”
“So they finally show their true colors! Only hiring those loyal to the Empire, I presume?!”
“Um, no. They’ve simply removed the unnecessary bonus points from the Kingdom’s recruitment criteria. Like the additional points granted to nobility.”

In other words, they would solely promote talent based on merit.

After hearing everything, the members exchanged glances and swallowed dryly.

Originally, this should have been the time to ignite the flames of revolution, yet they all remained speechless like stunned mullets.

In the ensuing silence, a man wearing a robe pulled low over his face finally spoke with difficulty.

“I’m not sure if I should say this, but…”

Fidgeting with his hands, the man turned towards Hamtal.

“…Isn’t this better than before?”

Ironically, no one could refute the man’s words.