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“Are you Effenberg?”
Surprisingly, the Marshal was a young man, and he talked down to General Effenberg as if it were the most natural thing to do.
General Effenberg felt a twinge of discomfort at the informality.
‘Did he get his position from connections?’ he wondered.
It was not unheard of, as it did happen quite frequently, especially in some powerful nations. A prince would suddenly show up with stars on his shoulders and throw his weight around, pretending to be a master strategist of some sort.
These fresh academy graduates, who did not even know the basics of tactics or strategy, would boss around veteran generals with decades of real combat experience, just because of their bloodline.
However, General Effenberg found that scenario to be unlikely.
Even though princes were notorious for flaunting their stars, it was quite rare for them to be directly awarded four stars, let alone five.
‘Just who in the world is he?’
General Effenberg was by no means a low-ranking officer. As a high-ranking general, he was well-informed about the most prominent figures within the Holy Alliance.
Yet among all the princes he could think of, not a single one matched this young man.
‘Let’s not act rash and make a mistake,’ General Effenberg decided to focus on the rank, not the man.
After all, there was a saying in the military that salutes were given not to people but to the rank.
“Sir! Commander...
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