The Imperial Supreme Commander Has Returned - Chapter 23

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Empire’s Commander-in-Chief Returns Chapter 23

“Flames? A sorcerer!”
“Scatter, all of you!”

The Special Forces Members scattered as the blazing inferno erupted.
Fortunately, there were no casualties.
Not because the flames were weak—but because they tore toward Delram alone, leaving every other soldier untouched.

Whoooosh!

A crimson fan of flame spread outward in a massive arc.
Dozens of meters away, a sorcerer held her fingers curved in a circle, breathing her essence into them.
The breath passed through fingers dense with runes of fire, stretching the flames long and bright.

“Huzzah!”
“At last we’ve killed him—wait, what—!”

The Barbarians nearby let out cheers that caught in their throats.
Their faces went deathly pale—as if they’d glimpsed a ghost.
And with good reason.
There, striding calmly through the heart of the still-erupting inferno, came Delram.

Not only that—he was unharmed.
Not a burn mark, not even soot upon him.
His Robe hadn’t so much as singed a single thread.

“Hhhhhh!”
Whoooooosh!

The sorcerer, seeing this, drew in a deeper breath.
Her face crimson with strain, as red as the flames themselves.
The fire intensified, swallowing Delram once more.

“Thanks for warming me up.”

But Delram’s response was almost casual.
He merely shrugged and drew a spear from his back.
A short haft, just over a meter long.
He steadied his stance and hurled it forward in a single fluid motion.

Skreeeeeee!
Thud!

The throwing spear pierced through the flames and surged onward.
Temperatures so fierce the shaft itself should have burned, the blade should have melted.
Yet the spear carved a clean circular hole through the fire, closing the distance to the sorcerer in an instant.

The path of Wind.
Shielded by the Wind Mana, the flames—having no true physical force—could not touch him, could not slow the spear.
Not his body, not the weapon he’d thrown.

Squelch.
“Hhgh!”

The spear’s destination: the sorcerer’s throat.
With no breath to fuel it, the flame cut off abruptly.

“The sorcerer is silenced! Press the advantage—kill them all!”
“Understood!”

The Special Forces Members surged forward in unison.
The battle was over.
The remaining Barbarians threw down their weapons and fled.
Delram’s comrades had been swept away, and the Barbarian warrior and Sorcerer he’d trusted were—quite literally—cut down in a single stroke.
Valor meant nothing. Holding their ground became impossible.

“Delram! Should we chase down the ones running away?”
“Are you out of your mind? Go burn their supplies instead.”
“On it!”

I knew I’d mess it up!
The veteran laughed cheerfully at Delram’s rebuke.

Delram was still the youngest recruit in the Special Forces.
Yet just as the veteran had shown moments earlier, no one dared to pull rank on him.
When Delram could cut down Knights and Sorcerers like grass—Barbarian warriors at that—who’d be fool enough to throw seniority in his face?
They’d die, and call it natural causes.

“Now that’s a good burn.”

Delram gazed at the flames before him, smiling with satisfaction.
The very supplies Sambala’s warriors had been dying to see.
Wheat and corn they’d tended carefully all year, potatoes—all of it caught fire within moments, fed by flint and generously pooled oil.

Then, suddenly seized by an idea, Delram darted between the flames.
He emerged from the burning cart cradling an armful of something.
His face smudged with soot, he held it out to them.

“These look perfectly roasted. How about we grab some potatoes before we go?”
…….

The Special Forces Members’ faces fell.
Enemy reinforcements could arrive any moment—the situation was dire…….
And he wanted to sit around peeling potatoes?

“W-well… why not?”
“Come to think of it, I am hungry…….”

But one by one, the Members took the potatoes.
All with awkward smiles.

* * *

[The Little Demon of Pfiore]
[The Semi-Knight of the Special Forces]
[Master of Seven Blades]

All three were Epithets that symbolized Delram.
It was remarkably unusual—extraordinarily so, even.
Knights rarely earned titles at all; for a common soldier to bear three was unheard of.

Yet it was hardly inexplicable.
On the contrary, the record made it inevitable.

Three months had passed since Delram joined the Special Forces.
Measured in days, barely ninety.
In that time, the number of missions he’d participated in was beyond counting.
Five large-scale operations deploying over one hundred personnel; some eight standard reconnaissance missions and roughly sixteen search operations.
Far more missions than any other member.

What was truly remarkable, though, was the success rate.
There was nothing more to say about it.
100%.
Every mission he was deployed on succeeded, no matter what obstacles arose.

At first, no one understood.
The mission success rate was climbing steadily—but surely not because of the youngest member?
Such a thing was naturally beyond imagination.
Yet that blindness didn’t last long.

[Operation 11/6: Severing the Enemy’s Supply Lines]
[Hammer Operation: Destroying the Fortress Under Construction]

Both were large-scale operations.
Both were missions deemed certain to fail due to unforeseen variables.
And it was the youngest—Delram—who stepped forward.

“What are you doing? Follow me.”
“You crazy greenhorn! Didn’t you hear the order to fall back? There are two sorcerers up on that hastily assembled wooden watchtower!”
“Yes, I’ll handle them.”

And what he drew was a bow.
He pulled the string taut, then released without even pausing to aim.
One arrow. Two arrows. Three arrows in succession…….

The first struck a hemispherical barrier and bounced away.
But before such insane archery skill—striking the exact same spot three times running—no defensive barrier held.

And then the shield shattered.
The fourth arrow pierced the sorcerer’s forehead.

“There—it’s over. We’ve already won. That last sorcerer seems rather weak, so let’s just plow through with force.”
“….”
“Move, you cowards! Shields to the front! Archers keep firing—don’t let that sorcerer cast!”
“Yes, understood!”

After that, everything moved with stunning momentum.
Delram and the Special Forces Members surged forward with breathtaking ferocity, slaughtering the Barbarians who had been building the fortress.

From that day on, everyone understood.
The reason their mission success rate had suddenly climbed.

It was because Delram—who had been quietly watching from the shadows, taking measure of the fight—
Had finally stretched and stepped into the light.

* * *

Which is why, in the Pfiore Kingdom’s military barracks,
The Special Forces Commander was cataloging Delram’s achievements.

“…And what’s even more remarkable is the survival rate. Not only he himself, but the majority of the members deployed alongside him have returned alive.”
“Is it truly such an extraordinary thing?”
“Yes. Even if I handpicked elite soldiers, I could not achieve such a survival rate under the same conditions.”
“But he’s only fourteen. Promoting a child who hasn’t yet undergone his Coming of Age Ceremony to Squad Leader would face considerable resistance.”

His skill was proven. His record was proven. His lineage was certain.
Yet a shadow of reluctance hung over the barracks.
It was all because of Delram’s age.
I’d aged a year on the battlefield, but I was still fourteen—barely older than the grandchildren of the commanders.
The Special Forces Commander shook his head.

“That’s precisely why he should be promoted.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The members trust Delram’s word more than their Squad Leaders or superiors. That’s the reason.”
“So one member is muddying the waters. In that case, we should be discussing whether to bring him before a military tribunal, not a promotion.”
“There’s no risk of that. Even those Squad Leaders and superiors who should be resisting—they follow Delram without question.”

The Special Forces Commander spoke with clear embarrassment.
Put plainly, the unit’s discipline had completely collapsed—not something a commander entrusted with its management should be admitting.

Indeed, disapproving clicks of the tongue rippled through the chamber.
But there were far more expressions of shock than censure.

This wasn’t just any unit. This was the Special Forces.
They handpicked and recruited the finest talents from each division, a group whose skill and pride ran extraordinarily deep.
The kind of men who would defy even a Knight if ordered to do something unjust.
And they were bending the knee to a fourteen-year-old boy?

“Come to think of it…….”

The murmuring council chamber fell silent in an instant.
The one who had spoken was the white-haired Commander-in-Chief.
Though delegated authority by the king himself, he was a veteran of a hundred campaigns, possessed of a high Knight’s strength in his own right.

“So the soldier who once brought down a Barbarian warrior single-handedly—that’s the boy, isn’t it? Sub-Commander, am I right?”
“Yes, sir. He did kill an exhausted Barbarian warrior, though luck was involved. We awarded him a fourth-rank commendation for it.”

The Special Forces Commander shook his head.

“That was nothing. Mere drops in the ocean.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since then, Delram has received instruction in the Mana Technique from Rubian. Advanced instruction, not merely the basics.”
“Ah, from that discerning daughter of the Bistaché Family?”
“From that point forward, Delram has killed seven Barbarian warriors and three Sorcerers. I attempted to submit commendations, but the entire unit wished to credit the accomplishment to them all together, so…….”
“What, what did you say?”

Even the Commander-in-Chief could not hide his astonishment.
Indeed, every person in the chamber sat open-mouthed.

What rank were Barbarian warriors?
Though strength varied somewhat, they were nearly the equal of any Knight in the kingdom.
And he had killed seven of them?

“I find it scarcely credible…….”
“Yet I swear upon my honor, sir, it is the truth. I have even witnessed several of these feats myself.”

The Special Forces Commander was one who had walked the battlefield alongside the Commander-in-Chief.
A collateral-branch Knight, though he was, he had mastered Mana in earnest.
So he understood well how preposterous his own words must sound.
And yet he spoke them anyway.

“I shall judge for myself. Tell him to come to my training ground a week from now. Bring Rubian with him.”
“As you wish.”
“But even without confirmation of his strength, the proven deeds alone are sufficient grounds for promotion. His reputation is not lacking either. What reason do we have to hesitate?”
“But his age—”
“I myself was fifteen when I first enlisted! One year is of no consequence. Special Forces Member Delram is hereby promoted to Sub-Commander.”

The Special Forces Commander, listening, spoke up in surprise.

“Not Squad Leader, but Sub-Commander, sir?”
“The Special Forces Commander and I have cultivated and employed our members well—this achievement belongs to both of us. It’s only fitting, then, that we both receive promotion. Each of us will advance one rank.”
“Thank you so much!”

The Special Forces Commander saluted with evident emotion.
From beginning to end, it had unfolded exactly as Delram predicted.
He’d attempted it half in jest, thinking he might as well try—and they’d actually been promoted!

‘Thank you, Delram!’

* * *

“Delram, Delram!”

Someone burst urgently into the barracks.
The Special Forces Member spoke in excitement.

“Hey! Do you know what I just heard?”
“…”
“You’re an officer now! You’ve become our unit’s Sub-Commander! Ah, so now I can’t speak casually… Sub-Commander Delram…?”
“…”

The other members nearby were equally astonished.
They’d expected him to make Squad Leader, but a Sub-Commander?
Their subordinate had suddenly become their superior.

Yet no one voiced objection.
Instead, the mood was one of acceptance.
Delram’s overwhelming accomplishments spoke for themselves, and there wasn’t a single member who didn’t owe him his life.

What was strange, however, was Delram’s reaction.
He said nothing, only scanning through a report.
It was a document the Special Forces Commander had handed over—a summary of intelligence on Barbarian movements that the recent scout patrol had brought back.

“Hm.”

It was some time before Delram finally spoke.
He tapped the report with his finger as he spoke.

“This is bad. Really bad.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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