The room was sterile. In the center stood a steel table covered in line patterns. On the opposite wall hung the kingdom's emblem and portraits of its two indisputable leaders. One was the Great King Lycoris. His mature and charismatic face was a portrait that made the blood of those who saw it boil. His beard was short and well-groomed. His deep blue eyes conveyed both a father's compassion and a king's iron will. He was the founder of the Kingdom of Aurelis.

  The other portrait was of King Kaelen II. Unlike the Great King's imposing image, he was slender. His light brown hair was perfectly combed. His face was handsome and possessed a noble aura.

  The only sound in the room, apart from the muffled hum of the ventilation, was the faint creaking of the candidate's boots on the polished floor.

  Atlas stood two steps behind the table, at attention. Facing him were five commission members, three of them in military uniforms. Colonel Clancy, in his forties, was a battle-hardened soldier, the one in the middle. He didn't look up from the files in front of him.

  His voice was as grating as metal scraping against metal.

  “Candidate Atlas Sinclair. Mistwood Military High School graduate. Father's name Raymond, mother's name Sarah. Born in Mistwood, Shadyshore. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Relax. Sit.”

  Atlas obeyed and sat down in the single chair in front of the desk. He sat up straight, his hands clasped on his knees. He fixed his gaze directly on the Colonel's face.

  Colonel Clancy closed the file. He scanned Atlas with piercing eyes that made ministers uncomfortable. “You scored in the top percentile on the university entrance exam. You passed the physical tests with full marks. Your achievements at Mistwood Military High School are commendable. But these are not enough to become an officer in our army. Why do you want to be an officer?”

  “To be part of the chain of command, to understand the mission, and to serve my country to the best of my abilities, sir.”

  The woman to the Colonel's right was a Captain, the psychological evaluation officer. She searched Atlas's body with icy eyes for signs of hesitation.

  Colonel Clancy continued expressionlessly.

  “How has the perception of the importance of ground forces in modern conflicts changed over time?”

  Atlas answered without hesitation. "Initially, it was concluded that ground forces and ground maneuvers would be irrelevant to future debates or unable to provide solutions to fundamental security issues, due to the dominance of intelligence-based long-range firepower and class skill superiority. However, enemy forces recognizing this situation and adapting to it has led to a renewed discussion of the decisive and results-oriented approach of ground forces."

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  “What is the Judicial Privilege Decree?”

  "In legal disputes between a noble and a commoner, the noble's statement carries ‘higher evidentiary value’. To convict a noble based on the testimony of a commoner requires at least three separate, consistent testimonies and additional physical evidence. The punishment for crimes committed against a noble is twice as severe as for crimes committed against a commoner."

  “What is the Property and Resource Allocation Law?”

  “Strategic resources within the kingdom can only be operated with the direct permission of noble houses or the royal family. The remaining populace and foreigners can only be tenants or workers.”

  Colonel Clancy nodded contentedly and scribbled something on the paper in front of him.

  “Tell me about the Virellia Liberation Front.”

  Atlas's expression changed when he heard that name.

  “A terrorist organization of child-murderers that uses mountainous and inaccessible terrain as a refuge, threatening the unity and integrity of Aurelis. They have delusional goals like an Independent United Virellia.”

  Colonel Clancy frowned when he saw the hatred on the young man's face and looked at the psychologist captain beside him. The captain shook her head and took notes in her notebook..

  "You are a corps commander. You face an enemy that is superior to you in numbers and equipment, but prone to making mistakes because of their arrogance. You want to trap the enemy in a ‘circle of destruction,’ just like the Great King did in Eldoria. Your plan is flawless: The central units will pretend to retreat, luring the enemy in, while the armored units on the flanks will close in and annihilate them.

  But there is a problem:

  In the center, the unit that will draw the enemy in and stall them is a battalion you have known since your military academy days, whose every soldier you know by name, elite soldiers who are loyal enough to call you ‘father’.

  If you order them to “Retreat,” the enemy will realize the trap and the maneuver will fail; the war will drag on, thousands more soldiers will die, and perhaps the homeland will be invaded. If you tell them to “Hold out to the end,” this regiment will be crushed and annihilated under the enemy's onslaught. They will all die. But as the enemy tramples over their corpses, drunk with victory, they will walk right under the hammer you bring down from the wings at just the right moment. Victory is certain, but the price is the complete annihilation of that battalion.

  Worse still, the commander of that battalion, your closest friend, calls you on the radio and begs, ‘Commander, our situation is critical, but if you order it, we can break through and retreat. Get us out of here!’"

  The colonel took a deep breath and looked into Atlas's eyes.

  “The question is: What will you say to him on the radio? And more importantly, how will you feel when you eat your dinner at headquarters that evening after giving that order? Don't answer me with memorized phrases, answer me with what's in your heart.”

  Atlas answered without hesitation.

  “I'll lie to my friend on the radio,” he said, without even a flicker in his eyes. "I won't give him permission to retreat. Instead, I'll say, ‘Help is on the way, hold on, I'm sending you the best reinforcements, that's the key point of the battle, don't give up!’ I'll give him hope so he'll fight to the last bullet and stall the enemy. While they die there, I'll surround and destroy the enemy. I won't feel anything while eating my dinner. Because what needed to be done has been done. A commander's conscience is as clear as the magnitude of victory. There is no room for emotions."

  The room fell silent. Colonel Clancy leaned back. His eyes were sharp, as if looking into the depths of Atlas' soul. He picked up the file in front of him and wrote a large, angular letter on the cover. Then he handed it to the officer beside him.

  “That's enough. You may go.”

  Atlas stood up, clicked his heels together, and slowly walked to the door. As he turned to open it, he could feel the piercing gaze on his back. Before closing the door, he turned and gave the commission a nod.

  When Atlas left the room, Colonel Clancy turned to the commission members beside him.

  “What do you think?”

  “He was the best so far,” said the commission member in civilian clothes. “He has the qualities of an officer.”

  “Psychological profile, sir. Abnormally high tolerance for pressure. Logic and duty-oriented. Dangerously pragmatic.”

  The captain paused, her eyes fixed on the young man who had just walked out the door.

  "That boy won't be killed by the enemy, Colonel. When he lands on the continent, his own soldiers will strangle him in his sleep.

  Colonel Clancy pulled the file the psychologist had handed him toward him and signed it with a red pen.

  “As long as he brings victory, I don't care how he dies, Captain.”