"Strategist?"
Everyone looked at Herta in confusion, then turned toward the man.
Kafka, meanwhile, observed the reactions of those around her.
She noticed that the Redemption Army soldiers around them all looked at this man with reverence-or rather, a fervor akin to religious devotion.
He was a very tall man, wearing a white head wrap and a white linen robe distinctive to the Southern Region.
A mask covered his face, and gloves covered his hands. Not an inch of skin was exposed.
The man seemed to notice Kafka's gaze. He looked over and spoke in a hoarse voice that sounded as though air were leaking from it:
"I have extensive burn scars, including on my face. I dress like this because I don't want to frighten anyone."
A soldier beside him explained:
"Mr. Ena is a war hero of our Redemption Army. He got those wounds on the battlefield, when those damned slave owners burned him with gasoline bombs!"
His voice brimmed with hatred.
Kafka nodded without saying anything.
She offered Mr. Ena a smile.
The eyes behind the man's mask seemed to give Kafka a searching look. Then he turned back to Herta, his voice growing excited again:
"I've heard all about what you did in the Northern Region. A beautifully executed operation! Unfortunately, Number One, the Alliance's leader, proved quite capable and suppressed the whole affair before it could cause greater damage."
At those words, Herta instantly understood who she was in her dreams!
The role she was playing was actually the Redemption Army's strategist!
Then the man named Ena continued:
"Don't be discouraged. Number One may have suppressed this unrest, but the seeds of chaos have already been planted. Once they sprout, the day will come when even she can no longer keep them under control."
Herta