John Maslow Has the Makings of a Great General!

John Maslow Has the Makings of a Great General! John felt that he had to be cursed by terrible luck.

Other than that, he truly could not think of a second reason to explain his current situation.

He had clearly only blurted out some nonsense. Why had it come true?

Did good omens really never work while bad ones always did?

Were those Allied Forces people all little geniuses or something?

If things had continued according to the current situation, the Imperial Army would definitely have been defeated. Why did those people have to stir up trouble at such a critical moment?

"Idiots, they're nothing but a bunch of idiots!"

Inside the tent, John, curled up on his bunk, could not help cursing furiously in his heart.

Whenever he thought of how, upon returning to camp last night, Captain Olaf had personally led people out to welcome him and praised him in front of the other senior officers, John wanted nothing more than for his soul and body to perish together on this hard bed.

What kind of bullshit Empire's Hero was that? It was completely different from how he wanted things to develop!

Did that not mean his grand plan of slacking off until retirement was completely ruined?

"I'm tired. Destroy it all."

John sprawled listlessly across the bunk, staring blankly into space.

Even with his toes, he could guess that the Allied Forces had probably learned everything that happened last night through their spies.

His personal information might even have been laid out on the conference table at Allied Forces headquarters.

The Allied Forces commanders might already have begun discussing whether to send professional agents to eliminate him, this newly risen "Empire's Hero."

Clearly, things had reached the point he least wanted to see.

When he imagined the silver-haired witch, the game's protagonist known as the Empire's Undertaker, approaching him under Allied Forces orders and beheading him in his sleep on some pitch-black night...

John felt phantom pain creeping across his neck uncontrollably.

Cold sweat had already begun pouring down his back.

Damn it, he could not just lie here and wait to die.

He had to do something.

"Fix it. Right, I have to find a way to fix this!"

John muttered to himself, but before he could figure out how someone who had ruined the Allied Forces' supply route blockade plan could earn the trust of the regular army...

The next second, the flap of his tent was lifted, followed by Wendy's energetic voice ringing in his ears.

"Good morning, Warrant Officer John! The sun's already shining on your butt. Time to get up!"

Is that so? Because you look anything but good to me.

Can't you, my troublesome bastard subordinate, just get lost?

John shot Wendy a resentful glance from the entrance and replied weakly.

"Good morning, Sergeant Wendy. But if you have nothing important, it would be best not to disturb me. I need some quiet time to think. Also, did you forget to knock again?"

"Understood. I'll correct that next time. Although I personally do not wish to disturb this sacred moment of you focusing on the Empire's future, I'm afraid I have no choice but to be the bad guy this time."

Wendy shrugged helplessly. Meeting John's puzzled gaze, she explained the reason for her visit with a trace of envy.

"General Dormammu wishes to see you, so, Warrant Officer John, you'd better get up and straighten your appearance as soon as possible."

Half an hour later, at the temporary command post on the Empire's Walden Front.

"Tap, tap!"

"General, Warrant Officer John Maslow, commander of the 14th Magecraft Soldier Squad, reporting. May the Empire's radiance be with you."

"At ease."

Looking at the young man saluting him respectfully, Dormammu nodded imperceptibly, though his expression remained calm as he spoke.

"Warrant Officer John, I have learned of your active performance on the battlefield last night. Not only did you see through the Allied Forces' scheme and help our army successfully avert a major crisis, but you also intercepted a batch of important enemy intelligence and supplies."

"Your outstanding achievements have greatly pleased me. The Empire has not seen a young man as exceptional as you in a long time. So, Warrant Officer John, having rendered such merit, what reward would you like? Go ahead and say it. As long as it is within my power, I will do my best to grant it."

Reward? Can you let me retire? I'm begging you.

John grumbled inwardly, but he also knew that such cowardly words would do nothing except attract the attention of the Inspection Forces.

Thus, despite his helplessness, John could only decline righteously.

"No reward is necessary, General. This is the duty every Imperial soldier should fulfill!"

"Compared to the Empire's great cause, I am nothing. Moreover, the key to resolving the Allied Forces' attack this time lay with the members of the 14th Squad. I merely offered a few insignificant suggestions."

"Therefore, if you insist on granting a reward, please bestow it upon the soldiers of the 14th Squad."

After saying that, John straightened up, his face filled with generosity and righteousness.

He truly did not want this so-called reward. Once the Empire officially cemented his damned identity as the Empire's Hero with a reward, John did not need to think hard to know—

He would definitely end up on the Allied Forces higher-ups' assassination list.

But heaven knew that he genuinely wanted to defect.

If not for that inexplicable accident, he might already have been assigned by his superior to scrub toilets according to the original plan.

Instead of standing before this villainous leader and receiving some goddamn reward!

"!"

Yet upon hearing that answer, even the well-traveled Dormammu could not help but be stunned.

The look in his eyes as he regarded John gradually became complicated.

Before asking that question, Dormammu had imagined all sorts of answers John might give.

But he had never expected the other man to voluntarily give the credit to his subordinates.

After all, Dormammu had climbed from an ordinary trainee soldier to his current position through countless battles and seas of corpses and blood.

He had seen far too many absurd things and had long understood the rule that military merit belonged to superiors, while responsibility was borne by subordinates.

That notion had even become common knowledge throughout the Empire's military.

Yet this common sense, accepted by everyone, had been broken at last in the young man before him named John Maslow.

John Maslow, are those courteous words of strategic retreat, or are they truly the words in your heart?

Dormammu's gaze flickered, but outwardly, he merely nodded slightly.

"I see. Though I do not know why you hold such thoughts, as the initiator of the plan, you have the right to distribute the mission's reward."

"As you wish, Warrant Officer John. I will award this merit to every member of the 14th Mage Soldier Mobile Squad. How does that sound?"

"Thank you for your kindness, General."

A sincere smile appeared on John's face, and his gaze toward that old bastard Dormammu became more respectful than ever before.

He had to admit, this was the best news he had heard since coming to this world!

He had not shown the slightest anger or loss of composure. So this was truly what he thought?

What purity and fairness!

Dormammu was filled with amazement. As a veteran general who had lived for seventy-four years and seen countless people, he had never misjudged anyone.

Therefore, he could be certain that John's words had come entirely from the heart.

Exceptional wisdom, sharp judgment, and the courage to act—those traits alone were enough to make him an outstanding commander.

But if he also possessed the support of his soldiers and a fair sense of discipline, then without a doubt, the soldiers under such a commander would all become fearless in the face of death. Even when facing armies several times, or even more than ten times, their own number, they would not easily collapse. Instead, they would continue to resist tenaciously.

And such an unparalleled commander, one whom entire armies would willingly follow and support as though he were the soul of the army, was exactly what the Empire desperately needed as it faced the siege of so many Allied Forces.

As for the possibility that his earlier behavior had merely been an act, even the Allied Forces' greatest spy would find it difficult not to reveal flaws before Dormammu.

Furthermore, if John could truly maintain such an act, then he possessed value worthy of Dormammu's attention.

So young yet already so calculating—if given the chance to develop, he would surely become skilled at manipulating hearts and minds. Compared to the former kind of "benevolent general," he would only be greater, never lesser!

Was it truly necessary to place such a talent in that dangerous situation for testing?

A hint of hesitation flashed through Dormammu's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by calm.

The current war no longer allowed him to consider the future. If they could not win this war, then the Empire, unable to obtain a new Lake of Magic Power and continue producing powerful Mage Soldiers, would see its brilliant radiance grow dimmer beneath the Allied Forces' combined assault, perhaps even vanish entirely.

That was something he would never allow to happen.

So, if you truly possess the qualifications to become a banner leading soldiers forward—

Then, John Maslow, prove it to me with your actions!

Prove that you are true gold, forged by every hardship into something ever more dazzling.

Not some counterfeit!

Determination flashed in Dormammu's eyes. He slowly set down the pipe in his hand, his eagle-like blue eyes staring directly at the young man before him, who seemed to shine in his eyes.

His faintly purple lips moved slowly as he revealed the true reason he had summoned him.

"Warrant Officer John Maslow, I have a special mission that requires your 14th Mage Soldier Mobile Squad to carry it out."

"The danger rating of this mission is: Deadly Class."

(End of Chapter)