Lars returned later that night around 2100 hrs. Unlike before the incident involving Troels and Jansen, he had chosen a food stall at random. He used his translation app to simply ask for what was recommended and ordered that. Although, while he was quick on everything else, he ate slowly and savoured the taste.
Arriving at the imposing metal gate, he was required to show the soldier stationed there his identification card. This was despite the obvious fact that his heritage and physical appearance was that of their own countrymen. He was let in shortly after, then making his way towards his unit's building in the barracks.
Lars noticed that most of his unit were in their respective beds already. Some were long asleep, while others talked quietly thanks to a mix of low energy and respect for those trying to rest. His entrance didn't garner much attention, but he heard a passing comment remarking his late return to be surprising for him.
He only greeted a few people he made eye contact with before reaching his bunk, taking off his jacket and other outerwear. There was no rush to strip down to his underwear so he spent a moment checking his phone even though there weren't any notifications. It was then that he heard a voice, coming from the bunk above him.
"Lars," said the voice.
Lars turned around, finding nothing more than an upside-down head peering at him from above. It belonged to a man called Olesen who happened to be sharing the same bunk—having taken the top bunk at his own request. He seemed perfectly fine starting a conversation by hanging over the edge like this.
Not paying it much mind, Lars asked, "What's up?"
"You were out late."
"I was."
"What were you doing?"
"Hm… Looking for a good place to eat."
"Oh… Did you find one?"
"Sort of. I found a place, but it wasn't that good."
"Ah, well, that's how it is visiting a country for the first time. You don't always get lucky on the first meal—especially if you can't read the menu."
When Lars didn't say anything back, seemingly paying more attention to his phone than Olesen himself, Olesen continued, asking, "What are the women like?"
Lars paused, thinking back to when he was scrutinising the locals earlier. They looked younger in general so the people here certainly weren't ugly… However, he couldn't stop his mind from drifting towards the face of that woman—the one who Troels and Jansen had dragged into the alley. Her scornful expression surfaced in his mind; full of disgust and hatred, which belittled Troels, Jansen, and himself as vermin.
He didn't want to be put on the same level as those two. Not thinking as such gave him peace of mind, justifying what he'd done and hindering feelings of regret. But what mattered more than his own impression was what the woman thought. In her mind, he was probably a terrifying monster equivalent to or worse than Troels and Jansen.
There's nothing more dangerous and unpredictable than an unstable man with a gun. Lars sighed, then said dismissively, "I don't know—didn't really pay attention to that."
Olesen blinked twice, "Are you into men?"
"No," Lars responded calmly.
Olesen didn't continue since Lars wasn't the type to be provoked by such a claim, instead changing the topic, "Did you see Jensen today? Oh, and Troels, too—they both haven't returned yet. Heard a few of our lads talking about that."
Lars' expression didn't change. He glanced at Olesen, then looked back at his phone, saying simply, "No, I didn't."
"Okay," Olesen said in a light tone, seeming not to care all that much. It wasn't the first time that someone didn't return on the first night. A lot of them overdid it with the drinking, choosing to find a hotel to stay overnight rather than returning to base inebriated. It occurred every now and then.
The room went dark soon, reaching after hours. Morning came around quickly and the next day started. When Lars awoke, he had slept in a little later than he usually would. He noticed that hardly anyone remained in the barracks except for those yet to wake up. Most of them would want to make use of today before they had to officially begin their duties and were eager to go.
Lars noticed that Olesen wasn't occupying the bunk above him, meaning that he'd already headed out as well. He left the barracks too after changing and found a toilet to brush his teeth in. After exiting, finished with his morning routine, he caught the eye of someone who quickly hurried over and stopped him
"Lars!" Henrick beckoned, "Sarge wants you. Said you've got to report to his office immediately."
"Alright, thank you," Lars waved politely.
Henrick nodded, rushing by him and leaving without mentioning anything else. He had expected to be called for soon enough and it was about time. Additionally, from how Henrick acted towards him, it didn't seem like anyone else knew what had occurred at this time.
Lars made his way to the Sergeant's office without delay. He knocked briefly on the door before opening it, stepping inside. It was not often that he was called to such a place on the first day of an overseas trip so it was a new feeling.
He glanced around the room and found two people. There was his Sergeant, Sgt. Petersen, and an unfamiliar face. He was unsure who the other person was at first, but then nearly lost his composure in shock after realising who it was. Lars couldn't figure out what she was doing here and wanted to know the reason but was interrupted first.
Sgt. Peterson spoke sternly, "Do you have your service pistol on you?"
Immediately focusing on his superior, Lars stood at attention and responded clearly, "Yes."
His expression unchanging, Sgt. Peterson instructed, "Place it on the desk."
Lars did as he was told. He slowly removed his jacket first to put his service pistol in clear view, then removed it from his holster and placed it on the hard wooden desk with the safety still on. Once he had disarmed himself, the sergeant placed it behind himself so that sight of it was obscured from Lars' view.
"Lars," Sgt. Petersen said.
Lars responded, "Sir."
"You are hereby suspected of the murder of Troels Bormann and Jansen Lervig. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you may rely on later in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."
Sgt. Peterson continued, "I've read your caution so you understand that you are being detained, and everything you say from now on can be used against you in court. But the actual trial is pending as of yet and isn't confirmed to go through."
Lars was confused on what that meant, but didn't attempt to speak. He let the sergeant continue speaking:
"Until it's decided, you will be staying here in Tirynn indefinitely. This has to do with the honourable lady here—the woman you saved and witness of the incident."
Lars glanced over at the woman once more, since she had now been explicitly brought to attention. Long silver hair draped over an intricately cut dress. Flowing layers of white, embellished with grey accents, presented a graceful look. It was evidently crafted to suit her long legs and give her an air of regality.
Lars hadn't been able to appreciate her features during the incident. With an angular face and eyes that suited a predatory animal, she came off as both imposing and beautiful. The woman scowled, suddenly demanding, "Insolent knave, kneel."
What…? 'Kneel', did she say?
Lars was dumbfounded after hearing the very first thing she had to say. He briefly glanced at his sergeant, unsure of what to do, but then received a nod of approval. Without other options, he went from standing at attention to kneeling before the woman.
After a few seconds passed, the woman then addressed the sergeant, "I don't want to explain. You do it."
The sergeant obliged, explaining in the woman's place, "Although your actions towards saving her are commendable, she was not actually in need of saving. She was more than capable of handling it herself. What you did achieve, however, is prevent her from killing foreign soldiers."
Lars could hardly believe what he was hearing. In that situation, what could she have possibly done? She was unarmed, helpless to resist against two highly trained soldiers—Lars simply couldn't wrap his head around what he was being told.
"Her name is Rhys Ewyas Pendragon. She is an incredibly important official in Tiyrnn, holding major influence. If she were to kill two foreign soldiers on Tiyrnn ground, regardless of the context, there is a high chance of war breaking out.
"But because of you, the situation changed: instead of an important official killing another country's soldiers, it's their own men having a disagreement. We've decided to grant you an opportunity out of gratitude."
What… Lars couldn't believe any of it. He was tempted to pinch his cheek, so he could check if this was a dream brought about by a guilty conscience.
He could only dumbly ask, "An opportunity?"
Sgt. Petersen turned towards the woman as if gesturing for her to announce it.
Rhys stated, "You can return to your land to receive a fair trial that will end in execution—or you can remain in this country and serve under me, receiving a new name and background."
Sgt. Petersen clarified, "The honourable lady's background is very special. She is someone who has powers native to the country, which serves as its main military might. That's why Tirynn can stand on equal footing despite having a much smaller military body and needing to outsource soldiers for peace-keeping."
"Your job is to deal with smaller threats and reduce the need for her to exercise her might. Since she's one of the country's greatest assets, it's important to keep her capabilities secret."
"You'll also be required to engage in the source of these secrets and expose yourself to corruptive ailments. This may reduce your life expectancy in the long run, but it's certainly better than an immediate execution."
"What will you do?"