I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander-Chapter 161

The moment Daniel finished speaking, the grenadiers split to either side and marched in, occupying the Grand Assembly Hall.

Each time the rhythmic sound of their boots echoed through the chamber, the nobles flinched involuntarily.

Yet Duke Belvar alone did not so much as twitch—his cold gaze remained fixed on Daniel.

In the midst of the murderous tension hanging between them, it was Belvar who spoke first.

“...Congratulations. You’ve won, Colonel Daniel Steiner.”

Belvar leaned back into his chair.

Even in the face of undeniable defeat, his posture exuded an air of ease.

“Seeing that your soldiers have stormed into the Grand Assembly Hall, it seems the seizure of the Capital is merely a matter of time. And with the added justification of toppling the Noble Coalition for attempting to overthrow the state, we’ve practically handed you wings.”

A bitter smirk touched Belvar’s lips as he gave a casual shrug.

“So? How does it feel? To have the Empire in your hands?”

To Daniel, that question was thoroughly unpleasant.

Belvar spoke as if saying, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

That subtle mockery made Daniel’s brow furrow.

“You’re speaking nonsense. I am not the one who will claim the Empire—Her Majesty the Empress will.”

“Oh? And you intend to hand over everything you’ve accomplished back to Her Majesty?”

“You’re being insolent. I am not ‘handing it back.’ The Empire was hers to begin with.”

“Not a false statement. But do you truly think others will see it that way?”

“Duke Belvar.”

Daniel called his name as a clear warning to stop talking.

But Belvar continued undeterred.

“Even if you return everything to Her Majesty, the people will remember today. That Daniel Steiner marched into the Capital with nearly twenty thousand troops, declaring the destruction of the Noble Coalition, and took command by force.”

“...What exactly are you trying to say?”

“It’s simple. Whether you want it or not, the gaze people cast upon you will now contain reverence. And that reverence will include submission to power—and loyalty, born from the heart. I see that as a kind of privilege.”

Belvar’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“A man’s position creates privilege, and privilege gives rise to power that can rule over others. I was able to unify the Noble Coalition and usurp authority from the Empress precisely because the title of Duke afforded me such privilege. Ever heard this saying?”

Belvar leaned forward.

‘Those who possess privilege are inevitably corrupted.’”

If Belvar had enjoyed privilege from the power and prestige of his ducal lineage, then Daniel Steiner’s countless achievements were privileges in and of themselves.

Daniel Steiner, who would henceforth be remembered not only as a war hero but as a legendary commander, would undoubtedly become more beloved than the Empress herself.

Popularity compels people to follow. To pledge loyalty.

And that is power. That is privilege. And that is the fate Daniel Steiner would inevitably face.

“Count Kaledra, the leader of the Allied Nations far across the sea, turned his king into a mere puppet. And I—blinded by power—rose up in revolt. So tell me, Colonel Daniel Steiner... do you believe your end will be any different?”

You are no different from me at your core.

And just like me, your end will be miserable.

“Do not become intoxicated by your victory and fall into arrogance, Colonel Daniel Steiner.”

As those words, more akin to a curse, rang through the air, one of the nobles abruptly sprang to his feet.

It was Baron Ventarto, garishly adorned in excessive ornamentation.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?! Duke Belvar! Have you no shame?!”

Ventarto rebuked Belvar and turned to Daniel.

A strained smile crept across his face, though his trembling cheeks betrayed the lie.

“Colonel Daniel Steiner? There’s no need to listen to that villain’s ramblings. I believe you simply did what had to be done. And if I may add, my involvement with him was not of my own will, but entirely due to his threats—”

Ventarto abruptly cut himself off.

Click! The grenadiers stationed to either side of the nobles simultaneously raised their rifles.

With their stocks braced against their shoulders, the soldiers aimed squarely at the nobles—rendering Ventarto speechless.

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The other nobles, too, either cast their eyes downward or let out stifled groans in fear.

Seeing this, Belvar burst into hearty laughter.

“Ha ha ha! That’s it! Now you’re beginning to understand how to wield power! That’s the Daniel Steiner I expected! Mark my words—you will become the worst and the greatest dictator in history. Just like Count Kaledra!”

Even with soldiers aiming rifles at him, Belvar did not stop speaking.

It was as though he feared death not at all.

Or rather...

He was behaving as though he had to die here.

More precisely—as though he had to be killed by Daniel Steiner.

Realizing Belvar’s true intent, Daniel let out a quiet chuckle.

The nobles—and even Belvar—turned to him in puzzlement.

“I see now. Understood, Duke Belvar. You wish to become a martyr.”

A flicker of confusion crossed Belvar’s eyes—so confident until now in his supposed upper hand.

Catching the subtle shift, Daniel kept his smile.

“You must’ve decided that provoking Daniel Steiner and dying here today was your best option. Daniel Steiner, overcome with rage, kills Duke Belvar in a fit of impulsive violence. No matter how much of a traitor Belvar is, public sentiment won’t respond kindly to such an incident.”

“...”

“There won’t be massive backlash—but some corners of the press will hound me relentlessly. Of course, that won’t last long. Her Majesty ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) will deal with the press first. But still... why does Duke Belvar hope for even that brief flicker of chaos?”

Daniel began walking slowly.

“You must believe that your death will cause just enough chaos to entangle Daniel Steiner for a few days. So then—what is it that you’re stalling for?”

Daniel stroked his chin as if pondering the question, then came to a stop beside Belvar.

Looking down at the man who stared resolutely forward, Daniel spoke in a whisper.

"You're trying to protect your family, aren’t you... Duke Belvar.”

Belvar felt as though every hair on his body had stood on end.

Cold sweat trickled down his back before he realized it, and Daniel, watching him closely, continued in a quiet tone.

“A shame, really. But I never intended to kill you in the first place. Didn’t I tell you? I’m not going to send you to hell. I’m going to make you live through it. Ah... do you remember that, by any chance?”

Daniel placed a hand on Belvar’s shoulder.

“I mean the conversation we had at Your Grace’s estate. I told you clearly then—if given a chance to return to the past, choose wisely. And if I recall, you agreed.”

Daniel gently brushed a speck of dust off Belvar’s shoulder.

“And yet, you still chose to step onto the threshold of hell. You ignored my warning, and now... well, I have no choice, do I? Then allow me to ask you something.”

Leaning in, Daniel whispered directly into Belvar’s ear.

“Is your family on their way to the Allied Nations?”

Belvar sucked in a breath and gripped the armrest of his chair tightly.

Without it, he felt he might collapse.

The thought that Daniel Steiner had discovered it sent his heart racing uncontrollably.

Calm down. Even if Daniel Steiner figured it out, there’s no way he could catch up to them. They must’ve left the Capital several days ago...

But despite his reasoning, his breath began catching in irregular intervals.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Daniel Steiner may have planned something else—something more.

Daniel, having caught the erratic shift in Belvar’s breathing, straightened his back.

“Don’t think you’ll find freedom in death. Watch the fall of your house. Hear the resentment of your family. Only then may you die—and not a moment sooner.”

Having said that, Daniel turned to the soldiers.

“Grenadier Battalion—bind them all and escort them to the Central Plaza!”

At Daniel’s command, several grenadiers stepped forward.

When they began to restrain the nobles with rope, a few had the audacity to protest, shouting that common soldiers dared lay hands on them—but, of course, it was to no effect.

Belvar too was forcibly pulled to his feet by a soldier and bound tightly.

How ironic it was.

The head of a noble house that had served three emperors now being manhandled by a mere soldier.

“Move! Now!”

As the soldier shouted and yanked him forward, Belvar staggered.

Then, like cattle being led to slaughter, he began to shuffle ahead, his steps sluggish and heavy.

For a man who once stood at the summit of power, it was a truly pitiful end.

But there was no time now for sentiment.

“All remaining personnel—follow me!”

Only one task remained within the palace.

“We are heading to the highest level of the Imperial Palace!”

To rescue Her Majesty the Empress—locked away in the chamber known as the Golden Sanctum.