Chapter 22: Forget It, Forget It

Winters in Brittany were bitterly cold.

After the long rainy season, snow had begun to fall. That was why they needed to hold each other's hands tightly. If the war ended, next year’s harvest in Brittany should be good.

When Ning Luo woke up, he was nestled in a warm bed.

Lifting his head, he found it resting on Isabella’s lap. Everything was just as it had been before. Isabella wore a white sheer nightgown, her long hair draping down from her shoulders. He could still smell the faint fragrance from her body.

Like a dream, like an illusion.

Ning Luo held onto Isabella’s slender fingers, turning slightly onto his side, facing her lower abdomen.

"Isabella, I think I should go to work. I shouldn’t be here."

This was the Brittany Fortress.

This was the front line of the war.

Isabella shouldn’t be here, and neither should Ning Luo. He had to remember that his identity was now entirely different from the past. He was the head of the Military Dispatch Division of the Imperial Army and bore responsibility for every soldier. While soldiers still clung to life in Brittany and at the front lines, for Ning Luo alone to find happiness was a painful thing in itself.

Slender fingers gently brushed across Ning Luo’s cheek. Isabella spoke softly.

"Isn’t it also a kind of happiness to see someone else find happiness?"

"Just... for a little while. Let me be human again for a moment."

If one were to describe Brittany as hell, then even the word hell might be too gentle. If someone stayed in hell for too long, it would slowly twist them into a demon.

Neither Albion nor Fontaine could withstand another Brittany campaign.

This war consumed more than just lives and wealth—it consumed love. The Brittany Campaign was a war of love. And to avoid being devoured by it, one had to possess a source of emotion older and deeper than memory itself. One had to remember Christmas, remember the face of a girl, remember a small tavern in Brittany, the scent of grass from home, the wedding at the church, and the advice of one’s mother... one had to remember everything from their life. Then, all of it would be blown to pieces by a gust of wind following an explosion, shattered before their eyes—reduced to nothingness.

No matter what.

Ning Luo had to remember what Isabella looked like.

Isabella lowered her head and kissed Ning Luo on the forehead.

"It’s all right. Mommy’s here."

Ning Luo lay in Isabella’s arms and closed his eyes again.

The joke Ning Luo and Isabella had shared at the café before the Brittany Campaign began—it had only been a few short months since, yet now it felt like a lifetime ago.

"This time must have worried you."

"I originally arranged for you to take a safer position in the Logistics Department, but I didn’t expect you’d still end up on the front line."

Naturally, Isabella had never wanted to send Ning Luo to the front.

Especially considering Ning Luo had never even been to a military academy, let alone the battlefield. In truth, the blame for this lay with Priscilla. Isabella had made her instructions very clear to Priscilla at the time, but Priscilla had deliberately concealed part of the plan—she wanted to see what Ning Luo would choose to do.

What followed had quickly spiraled beyond Priscilla’s control.

"I didn’t expect you to be a princess either."

"When did you figure it out?"

"I’m the Director of the Military Dispatch Division. I can access all of the Empire’s intelligence."

Originally, Ning Luo had simply thought Isabella was the daughter of some powerful noble family.

Actually, if he had asked Isabella directly, she would’ve told him the truth. But Ning Luo had deliberately chosen not to ask—because at that time, he had been in such a wretched state that it hardly seemed to matter. Just like how, to a poor man, whether someone had a hundred million or a billion made no difference—it was all out of reach anyway.

There was no record of Isabella in the Army General Staff’s files, but there was a file on Priscilla. When Ning Luo was reorganizing Priscilla’s service records, he naturally learned her identity—but there was no related data on Isabella.

And no data at all was, in a way, the best clue. A few probing words with Priscilla made everything clear.

"Then does Mr. Ning Luo have anything he wants to say to his princess?"

"If I do… once this war ends, we... let me tell you then."

While the war was still raging, some things were best left unsaid.

Isabella sighed lightly.

"In truth, I don’t want you to be this famous. I don’t want you to become Brittany’s hero. If I had a choice, I’d want us to spend the rest of our lives together in a little café in Brittany."

"I won’t let go of your hand."

Ning Luo gripped Isabella’s slender fingers tightly.

You could say Isabella had the mindset of a typical mother. From her point of view, it seemed like Ning Luo had only left her side for a few short months, and yet he had already become a hero of Brittany, the Chief Logistics Officer of the Empire’s Logistics Planning Bureau, and Director of the Military Dispatch Division. As time went on, Ning Luo’s titles only grew in number.

So did the responsibilities he carried, and the weight of the emotions he bore.

Now, even just facing Isabella, Ning Luo felt pain. It was because he carried the responsibility of every soldier.

In such a vast war, in the flood of passing years, the love between Isabella and Ning Luo seemed so small.

And yet, so romantic.

"Then, Mr. Ning Luo, please remember one thing well."

"Hm?"

"Whether it's the princess, or just Isabella,"

Isabella whispered softly into Ning Luo’s ear.

"Both are yours."

...

...

After completing the day’s flight mission—

Major Stewart.

No.

He should now be called Lieutenant Colonel Stewart, the youngest lieutenant colonel in the Empire, the Fire Dragon of Brittany, recipient of the Silver Dragon Cross. He was arguably the most popular man in the Empire—excluding that so-called Tyrant of Brittany. Though even younger, the Tyrant was, according to reliable sources, far too brutal in character. It was also said that he already had a lover.

Lieutenant Colonel Stewart didn’t believe that last part. Everyone assumed Priscilla was Ning Luo’s lover, but Stewart knew that wasn’t true.

The two of them ate and lived together every day, yet there was not a hint of crossing the line. It was baffling, to say the least.

But none of that mattered right now.

Lieutenant Colonel Stewart needed to report on the status of all fronts to Ning Luo.

When he reached the door of Ning Luo’s office, he found Priscilla standing there, eyes closed, quietly resting. That was normal. Most of the time, just watching Ning Luo work inside made one feel out of place. It was better to come outside for some air. Just as Lieutenant Colonel Stewart was about to knock—

Priscilla stopped him.

"He’s resting. Come back later."

"You managed to convince our Tyrant to rest?"

That question genuinely surprised Lieutenant Colonel Stewart.

He had spent several months with Ning Luo by now and understood his temperament all too well. Expecting Ning Luo to listen to reason was a lost cause. Ning Luo only ever gave orders—never received them.

"It wasn’t me. It was the princess."

...

Since Isabella had already arrived at the front line—

There was no need to keep it secret any longer.

For a moment,

Lieutenant Colonel Stewart didn’t know how to respond.

He wasn’t surprised. The Tyrant of Brittany, Director of the Military Dispatch Division, not even twenty years old—he and the princess did, admittedly, sound like a fitting match.

And yet, Lieutenant Colonel Stewart couldn’t help but feel a little downcast.

In Stewart’s eyes, Ning Luo was far too exceptional—so exceptional that others didn’t even feel envy. Someone like Ning Luo simply couldn’t be matched by anyone.

He worried this was a scheme by the Empire to win Ning Luo over.

And if that were the case, Lieutenant Colonel Stewart could never accept it. The battlefield was the purest place in the world. He couldn’t allow the political intrigues of the Empire’s rear echelon to stain the front line.

But even so—what could Lieutenant Colonel Stewart do?

This was Ning Luo’s private matter.

He had no right to interfere. All he could do was stand with Priscilla on the other side of the door, playing the role of Ning Luo’s gatekeeper, waiting for him to finish resting.