The First Magic World War-Chapter 357 - : 339, The Rose Goes to War

Chapter 357: 339, The Rose Goes to War

Charles was utterly shocked when he received the news from the newspaper.

For those high-ranking officials of the empire, the great nobles, and even His Majesty the Emperor, who received the news from the battle reports, the shock was more than tenfold.

The loss suffered by the Fars Royal Navy caused everyone, from the highest to the lowest, to feel a pain beyond consolation. The empire had been accumulating these assets for over a hundred years, not something that could be achieved overnight.

At the same time, with unprecedented speed, the empire completed all due procedures. Within less than four hours of receiving the battle reports, a document had been sent from Strasbourg to the Imperial Rose Fleet. Menilman was promoted from a seventeenth-grade Imperial Captain, skipping several ranks to a thirteenth-grade Imperial Colonel. His political status was enhanced with no fewer than twenty-two items, the kind of increase that, if written into a novel, would have readers complaining about inflated word counts.

The Fars Empire’s favor towards Menilman increased manifold in an instant.

Although Charles had also made countless contributions, first, he served mainly in remote battlefields; South Serif was not a primary area of troop investment for the empire. Furthermore, the two Brittany offensives both had other commanders in name. Second, indeed, his contributions were not as significant as Menilman’s. Third, he truly felt the indifference of service to a sovereign…

As Charles was having breakfast, Sophia Garanord came to visit.

Philedrica did not come; she sent a message through Sophia Garanord that she had to visit Machu Picchu today to settle the first group of Leopard People.

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Charles invited the Strasbourg Rose to join him for breakfast, and Sophia did not refuse. However, she ate with extraordinary grace, consuming only half a piece of bread and drinking a cup of coffee.

As he dined, Charles casually mentioned the naval battle. Sophia Garanord’s expression turned grave as she said in a low voice, “I came here today to discuss something with Mister Mecklen!”

“I am also a subject of the Fars Empire. In this time of national crisis, I cannot indulge in personal…”

In an almost inaudible voice, she said, “feelings.”

Then she spoke up somewhat louder, “I have applied to take a leave of absence from my studies and will soon be joining the army on their deployment.”

“I can no longer stay by your side.”

Sophia Garanord felt agonized at that moment.

She firmly believed that, given a fair competition, she would not lose to Anne Brittany!

However, as a daughter of the Garanods, she could not hide in the rear when the empire needed her, indulging in personal romance. No matter how reluctant she was, she decided she had to give up this relationship and serve the nation.

Sophia Garanord did not know if she would ever return. She felt a myriad of tangled emotions and an inexplicable resentment towards Anne. She looked at Charles, wishing only to gaze at him a moment longer because she did not know if she would come back alive from the battlefield.

Destiny is cruel and heartless, war is cold and unyielding as iron!

Even those of noblest birth, the most remarkable surnames, High Order, or even Transcendent of the Sacred Order, could not guarantee they would return alive.

Nor could Sophia Garanord have imagined that she, who was in love with a boy for the first time, would have to face a terrible defeat and retreat without having fought with all her might for him.

Although there were countless ways for Sophia to remain in Strasbourg, she was unwilling to tarnish the Garanod name. She even felt that if she stayed in the imperial capital for love instead of going to battle for the nation, she would despise herself.

Charles, too, was lost for words. In a low voice, he said, “I wish you triumphant warfare.”

“Sophia, which battlefield are you headed to?”

Sophia Garanord answered, “I will join the navy.”

In that instant, Charles even considered whether or not to give Sophia Garanord the “Whale Slaughter” and “Whale Killer.”?

These two Knight’s Spears would provide a significant advantage in naval combat.

But when he remembered how Anne had gleefully hung the two Knight’s Spears on the wall at 221B Baker Street, next to his Magic painting, he knew it would be an almost sure way to please the Serpent of Destiny.

After much hesitation, he sighed and decided to opt for a slightly smaller gesture of “tempting fate.” He took out a Golden Ring and handed it to Sophia Garanord, saying, “I have a friend who has a splendid warship, but she probably won’t take to the field.”

“Have someone deliver this Golden Ring to 699 South Sevantes Riverside Street! Yes, make sure someone else delivers it—don’t go in person—ask her if you could borrow that ship.”

“As a friend, I deeply regret, very deeply, that I can’t offer more help as you go to battle. Please don’t refuse it.”

Sophia Garanord took the Golden Ring, unaware of what exactly Charles was lending her?

After all, Count Garanord was currently at the Ferlanden frontline, unable to afford the leisure of Earl Brittany, nor did he have the urge to thoroughly investigate Charles’s background as a father concerned about his daughter’s affairs.

Therefore, what Anne knew, Sophia did not.

Seeing Charles’s sincerity, she spoke softly, “I will take good care of this gift.”

Charles Mecklen found breakfast that day to be utterly tasteless, for although he had seen battle, it was precisely because he had that he understood the dangers of the battlefield.

He didn’t have any special feelings for Sophia Garanord; even as just a “regular” friend, he didn’t want to witness a tragedy. Just like when he took Taoles to battle, he almost always placed his lieutenant in a safe location. For the most part, Taoles was at Machu Picchu, the ancient Beastman stronghold, which could be called Charles’s headquarters and was the safest of all the cities under his control.

For other friends, as well as his subordinates, Charles treated them similarly, hardly ever sacrificing lives just to hold a battle line. He often preferred to suffer a defeat rather than risk the safety of his men.

Charles was never a competent commander.

And it seemed he never would be.

After bidding farewell to Charles, Sophia Garanord finally felt a weight lift off her chest. She was a renowned figure in all the great empires, with no one under the age of twenty in Fars able to match her, including her male counterparts.

Sophia Garanord’s dream was never about love and romance but to become a “hero” who could turn the tide of battle and command thousands of troops.

As she stood to say goodbye to Charles and was about to leave Elysian Pastoral Street No. 58, Sophia drew her Side Sword and cut off a lock of her hair to hand to Charles, saying, “Mister Mecklen, would you keep these for me?”

Charles sighed, took the lock of hair, and tucked it into the diary he always carried, speaking softly, “I’m willing to pay tenfold the joy of destiny, as long as they bring you back safely.”

Sophia Garanord smiled faintly, and this time, she walked away without looking back.

The Strasbourg Rose, too, shall bloom!

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