I Became the Academy’s War Hero-Chapter 39 : You Were Much More of a Trash Than I Thought? (2)

Chapter 39: You Were Much More of a Trash Than I Thought? (2)
Dark clouds loomed in the gloomy sky, as if rain might pour down at any moment.
When a flock of crows cut through the clouds, a thunderclap followed in their wake.
It took about an hour from Sentre Station to reach today’s destination—the Bernhardt Family’s fifth villa.
After entering the estate and traveling quite a distance by carriage, they finally arrived at the villa furthest from the central area. It was a moment that made him acutely aware of the wealth and power the family had accumulated over the centuries.
Trying his best to hide his tension, Jeff climbed the stairs with a stiff face.
As soon as the butler waiting at the entrance saw him, he bowed deeply.
“It’s been a long time, Your Excellency, Marquis Halenber.”
“Mm. Is the young lady inside?”
“Yes, sir. Please, allow me to escort you.”
When the butler pushed the grand door open with force, an unpleasant creak echoed through the hall.
Inside, servants were busily moving to and fro across the lobby.
The floor was completely covered with a crimson carpet, so pristine that not even a single footprint could be seen.
“I shall escort you to the chamber, Your Excellency.”
Following another butler who took over, Jeff ascended to the second floor, where an unusually large banquet hall caught his eye.
Every piece of silverware and glass, as well as the dishes and wine, were arranged with perfect precision—enough to inspire admiration.
When they arrived at the entrance to the guest chamber next to the banquet hall, the butler suddenly stopped, as though he had reached an invisible boundary.
It was a signal that he could go no further.
“Then, I wish you good fortune, sir.”
It wasn’t exactly something a servant should say before his master’s meeting, but—
Jeff chuckled softly and entered the guest chamber.
Four people sat around a long, oval table. The seat at the head of the table—just as expected—was empty.
“Oh-ho, Marquis Halenber! You never fail to attend, do you?”
“It’s been a while, Burgard.”
“This is our first time meeting in person. Kael Weinhard, at your service.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Weinhard.”
“Alan Dawson, Your Excellency. It’s been a year.”
“Mm.”
Even as he exchanged brief pleasantries with the three family heads, one man among them did not so much as glance his way.
The others, too, seemed uninterested—none of them gave the man a single look, continuing their conversations amongst themselves.
Before long, three more people arrived, making a total of eight present.
After that, they idly chatted for some time, waiting for her arrival—discussing the current political climate, the difficulty of managing their residents, their children’s education, and other trivial matters.
After roughly thirty minutes of such meaningless talk, it was finally time for the host to appear.
“Thank you all for coming without delay.”
From a side door at the corner of the guest chamber, a woman with long, straight hair appeared, prompting everyone present to rise instantly.
“My name is Chloe Bernhardt. A pleasure to meet you all.”
With graceful poise, she lifted her skirt slightly and bent her knees in a subtle curtsey.
As the attendees bowed their heads at various angles, Chloe strode forward and took her seat at the head of the table, elegantly crossing her legs.
“Now then… shall we begin?”
Despite the bright smile curving her lips, the murderous glint in her eyes could not be hidden.
Chloe Bernhardt.
The fourth daughter of the Bernhardt Family, currently in charge of attire and the arts.
Gifted with exceptional aesthetic sense, she occasionally displayed remarkable talent as a designer—but since she quickly lost interest in nearly everything, her body of work was not extensive.
Even among the Bernhardt direct line—who were already notorious for their constant infighting—Chloe’s hostility toward her kin was extreme.
In particular, her relationship with her elder sister, Michel Bernhardt, was so infamous among the nobility that some said, “It won’t end until one of them dies.”
She possessed a beauty that exuded both youth and elegance, a firm footing in her field, the status of a Bernhardt direct descendant, and was still remarkably young.
It wouldn’t have been strange if she received daily marriage proposals from noble heirs, yet in her case, there wasn’t even the faintest talk of an arranged marriage.
In other words, her personality was so vile that all her advantages amounted to nothing.
In fact, more than ten families under Bernhardt’s domain had been expelled simply for displeasing her during meetings.
Even heads of houses old enough to be her father could do little more than stammer in her presence—a scene that repeated itself time and again.
Whether she knew or simply didn’t care, Chloe looked over the attendees with a chilling smile.
“You all hate useless chatter as much as I do, don’t you? Let’s get straight to the point.”
As several heads nodded exaggeratedly, she rested her chin on her hand and spoke.
“Begin the briefing on the Hockma supply situation, Marquis Halenber.”
“Yes.”
Jeff took a brief, steadying breath and recalled the he had prepared on his way here.
“Counting tomorrow’s shipment, a total of 420 crates—approximately 4,000 kilograms of Hockma—have been imported.”
“Manufacturing status?”
“Currently, about 800,000 doses have been completed, with an additional 200,000 in production.”
“One million doses… that’s about 10 kilograms?”
“Yes.”
Chloe nodded silently, then turned her sharp gaze toward him.
“Was distribution under Burgard’s jurisdiction? How was it proceeding?”
“Ah, yes. I will .”
Marquis Burgard also took as steady a breath as he could and began his explanation in a calm tone.
“…That is all.”
Chloe had looked displeased throughout the .
She tapped the table and designated the next er.
“How were things in the lobby?”
“Smooth. We were contacting and continuing negotiations with eight houses, including Raymond’s.”
Questions kept coming after that, but most of them were practically interrogations—seemingly waiting for any slip-up.
Watching his colleagues struggle yet somehow continue answering, I sighed inwardly.
‘Cooperation, my foot. This was utter belittlement.’
As evidence, the longer the meeting went on the more the attendees’ shoulders visibly drooped.
To show they had no intention of challenging Bernhardt’s authority, they bowed their heads as deeply as possible.
Chloe, who had been enjoying that sight for some time, finally clapped lightly as if satisfied.
“As expected, our house heads. You are doing excellently. I asked just in case, but there’s nothing to worry about.”
Ahaha….
Awkward laughter and scattered applause echoed around the room.
Since the Hockma issue—the purpose of this meeting—was proceeding without a hitch, it seemed safe to loosen the reins a little.
Chloe snapped her fingers and summoned the butlers and maids.
As pastries and teacups began to appear on the table one by one, the house heads finally relaxed and exhaled in relief.
Even so, they constantly checked Chloe’s expression, tirelessly signaling that they were not offending her mood.
While the others conversed, Chloe called me aside to the next seat and began a private conversation.
“What did you think the Karbenna situation was like these days?”
“I believed it wasn’t bad. I’d recently received s of movements through my son.”
“They say there’s someone stirring up trouble in various places.”
“…Are you referring to Eugene Carter?”
“Yeah, I think that was the name.”
Feigning ignorance despite knowing everything.
I touched my mouth and answered casually.
“I couldn’t confirm it firsthand, so I can’t be certain, but he wasn’t someone to be left alone.”
“I thought so too.”
Chloe smiled with interest.
“I’ve heard a bit myself. I should go pay him a visit sometime.”
“A visit… you mean a greeting?”
“Yes, a greeting.”
A smile full of menace came as a bonus.
Since it was unlikely to be an ordinary greeting, I only replied with an embarrassed smile.
Using the notes Lea had left, I focused on concretizing the current situation.
Several incidents were entangled at once, and with more than twenty people involved, there were countless variables to consider.
Just as I was roughly finishing that organization—
the door suddenly burst open without warning.
“Huff… huff….”
It was Francia Brida.
“Instructor… you knew… everything, didn’t you?”
She looked unusually flushed and excited, as if something had happened.
“Knew everything….”
I had my suspicions.
I pushed the notes aside and tilted my head.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why did you stop me in the training ground?”
“I didn’t want to see someone die outside the battlefield.”
“…Not because you mistook the person I was meant to take revenge on?”
It seemed she had noticed that Eric was adopted.
‘There hadn’t been any meaningful information sharing, though.’
Had there been some trigger?
I touched my mouth and leaned back, asking.
“So, do you know now? Who you should take revenge on?”
“…….”
“It’s vague, of course. That was inevitable. While you had been single-mindedly focused on honing yourself, the true culprits had cunningly hidden behind a veil.”
At the moment she lost everything and had no one to rely on, she had instinctively decided to rely on herself.
She devoted herself to endless self-discipline so she could become that person.
She wouldn’t have been able to endure otherwise.
Within the condition of not giving up revenge, it had been the best choice.
I understood and sympathized.
But that was all.
To truly accomplish the goal, she had to take one more step.
She had to face that ugly truth—almost a trauma—and overcome it.
‘I didn’t expect she’d take the next step so quickly, though.’
Thanks to the Hockma incident, another opportunity like this had come.
Even considering that, it was surprising.
Before I could do anything, she had judged for herself and come all this way.
It really was so fitting of someone named Francia Brida.
Watching Francia continue to struggle over how to answer, I smiled faintly.
“Cadet No. 12.”
“…Yes.”
“You were rather lucky, weren’t you?”
“…Yes?”
“The bastards who had slyly hidden their faces have begun to show them again after a long time.”
This was a golden chance to crush those arrogant scum with my own hands.
At my words, cracks gradually began to show in Francia’s expression.
“So then….”
I drove a wedge in with my proposal.
“Would you consider forming a joint front, Francia Brida?”
An offer she could not refuse.