Published at 4th of February 2026 7:17 am

Chapter 852: The Weight of the Sword

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Erich drank the beer that his wife had given him as he sat in front of the fireplace. His wife, Erika, cuddled close to him, touching the litany of medals pinned to his uniform.

Throughout the war, he had been awarded just about every honor for valor and gallantry on the field of battle that a soldier and junior officer could be granted.

And he had earned them not through the position of his birth, but through blood and iron. Erika, however didn’t admire the medals simply because they were proof of her husband’s heroism in the face of death.

She understood all too well the weight of what they represented. The two of them had talked for hours about their lives apart from one another over the course of the war.

And Erika knew her husband well enough to understand that after a mere five minutes he was trying to avoid thinking about something. Something important...

Eventually, she forced the man’s hand as she fetched him another bottle of beer from the kitchen.

"So... when are we going to talk about what’s bothering you?"

Erich nearly choked on his beer. Gazing up at his wife, he was about to protest the idea that anything could possibly be bothering him in such a happy moment, that is until he saw the smug smirk on her beautiful face.

He simply scoffed, and took another sip, one that went down far smoother.

"It’s nothing... I know your worries, but it’s not that. It’s just... when I said my farewells to the soldiers in my brigade, they were all speaking about a life beyond the war... beyond the service. And it made me wonder what my life would have been like if I had never taken up the sword. If I had never chosen to follow in his footsteps."

Erich didn’t need to say anymore on the matter. Despite her misgivings about her husband’s career as an officer in the military, Erika did not once try to persuade Erich out of his choice.

Still, here and now at a crossroads, she decided to speak her peace. Or more specifically, help her husband pick a path forward to walk in this life.

"Nobody would blame you, let alone condemn you if you decided to retire. Especially after what you just went through. You might be the Reichsmarschall’s grandson, but nobody expects you to follow in his footsteps forever."

Erich simply rolled his eyes. He knew from the medals on his chest that there wasn’t a single man in this world who would dare call him a coward for deciding to retire after the war.

"I’m afraid that’s not what vexes me, dear... My father is the first son of the von Zehntner line since its founding over a hundred years ago that did not serve in the military. My grandfather broke the tradition when he allowed my father to quit the military academy and assume a wholly civilian life."

Erika knew exactly where the conversation was heading, and quickly grabbed her husband’s beer out of his hands, before taking a swig, wiping the suds from her mouth before handing it back to him.

Erich didn’t react to this, not because it wasn’t absurd, but because he chose to continue with his thought, one that he knew provoked the action in the first place from his wife.

"I chose to reforge that line. I wasn’t required to. And yet, all the same, I made a choice to step into the line of duty... And the question now is whether my duty is yet fulfilled?"

Duty, fidelity, fortitude, discipline, and an unyielding will. These were the virtues that defined House von Zehntner and its noble sons.

And as admirable as those qualities may be, Erika had grown tired of hearing about men and their duty to abstract ideals. And was quick to remind Erich of the first on that long list of duties that he so frequently spoke about.

"And what of your duty to your family? You have been blessed in returning from two wars with only minor injuries. My father survived three wars and died at the end of his fourth. He met his fate fulfilling his duty to the fatherland, and in doing so abandoned my mother... and me....What if you don’t return the next time?"

Erich, of course knew his wife’s thoughts, her worries, her nightmares. How could he not? They were both named after her father who never came home from the war. And who had died fulfilling his duties?

And he was quick to grab her hand and drag her in close as the beer hit her cheeks, before her mind recognized it.

"Erika, why would you do that? You know you’re a lightweight... Are you so worried that I won’t come home to you if I continue my career in the military? Well, allow me to absolve you of such fears. If I stay in the military, I am guaranteed to become a Generalmajor within a year at the latest."

Erika looked up into Erich’s eyes, seeing the sincerity within them, along with the concern. She felt ashamed of making him worry to such an extent on her behalf, especially after just coming home from the war.

She even tried to hide her face from him, but Erich didn’t allow her to. He held her dainty chin gently, so that she continued to look into his sky-blue eyes.

"After the celebrations are over, many general officers will be retiring. Half the damned Reichsheer will be. With my record during the war, and as a volunteer in the Spanish Civil War prior, I am guaranteed to replace a Generalmajor who is already on the way out. In a time of peace, the Army will be downsizing and restructuring, and once I am a general officer, I never need to step foot on a battlefield again."

This wasn’t immediately reassuring to Erika, and she began to sulk as she took another sip from her husband’s drink.

"You expect me to believe that, when your grandfather was on the battlefield until he made the rank of Generalfeldmarschall and was forced by the Kaiser to distance himself from the war?"

Erich understood why his wife was saying this. He went silent, and even shifted his gaze away, and this only caused Erika to become more distressed as she reached for the bottle again.

This time, however, Erich stopped her, placing the beer on the table as he grabbed her hands and made a solemn vow to her.

"I’m not my grandfather... I’m not Bruno... He enjoyed war... I hate it...."

Erika was surprised to hear Erich say this. He had always idolized his grandfather. Always tried his best to mimic the man.

Even after being wounded in action while volunteering for the Spanish Civil War a few years prior to the outbreak of the Second World War. Erich had always tried to embody the monolith of a man his grandfather had always been.

But now... Now he was expressing the contrary, to hate war... It begged a single question.

"Then why continue to wage it?"

The words escaped Erika’s lips before she even realized what she had said. This caused her to reflexively place her hand upon her own lips as if to silence herself from saying anything else she shouldn’t.

Erich however seemed to have thought this idea through until its bitter, logical conclusion.

"Because someone has to fight for peace... if such a thing even exists in this world. Somebody has to guard the realm; my grandfather has finally decided to lay down the sword. Heinrich will be joining him, who then carries the sword when its wielder is gone and our enemies are at the gates? Dietrich? Rommel? Goering? Or me?"

Erika realized suddenly that her worst fears no longer haunted her. Erich had not grown into becoming a man like his grandfather, nor had he returned home a monster like her father had years before she was born.

Instead, he had chosen to walk a similar but different path. One that led in the same direction that Bruno had walked upon his entire life, but had a far less arduous journey along the way.

Erika leaned in close, and hugged Erich, kissing his lips gently, as she whispered something in his ear.

"It sounds like you have already chosen your path forward... So what else is there to think about, you idiot?"

Erich did not answer immediately, not because he doubted his choice, but because he finally understood its cost.

In the end, he could only laugh as he held his wife’s head on his shoulder, a bittersweet smile carved upon both of their lips.

The ghosts of the past, which had haunted both of their hearts for so long had suddenly been exorcised.

Erich would both seek to succeed his grandfather as the sword that guarded the Reich from its enemies. While rejecting the man’s incessant need to worry about where and when those enemies would strike.

And instead would enjoy the moment, ready and waiting for those who would challenge the authority of the fatherland, and its Kaiser.

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