In less than an hour, the situation between Charles and Galin had completely reversed.
Docunts arrived at Charles' desk one after another. At first, there were only one or two, but soon the number increased. Half an hour later, they were coming in so quickly that Charles could barely keep up.
This change was dictated by "unspoken rules"—or rather, by the choices of the soldiers and junior officers. More importantly, it followed the law of "those who follow will prosper; those who oppose will perish."
Any officer attempting to command troops using orders signed by Galin would imdiately be treated as a "target." As long as any conflict arose, following those orders would be a one-way ticket to death.
However, orders signed by Charles were regarded like protective charms. Not only did soldiers obey without resistance, but no one dared challenge their authority.
Officers weren't fools. Once they realized this shift, they flocked to Charles, eagerly acknowledging his command authority.
Within an hour, even Galin's most trusted aides had no choice but to report to Charles instead. Not because they wanted to, but because reporting to Galin no longer served any purpose—the power no longer rested in his hands, and whether he was inford or not was irrelevant.
Charles rapidly signed docunt after docunt, occasionally glancing up to ask the sa three questions he had posed earlier:
"Do we have the screening list?"
"Yes, General," the staff officer replied quickly, rushing back to his seat. After rummaging through a pile of docunts, he hurried back to hand them over. "Here they are, General. This stack is for those already screened, and this one is for those pending review."
"What about the confinent list?"
Another officer promptly handed him a report. "The dozen or so people who were just locked up aren't on the list yet—I'll verify that right away."
Charles gave a brief "Mm" and continued, "If I want to visit the detention room, that won't be a problem, right?"
"Of course not, General," the officer replied. "Would you like to make arrangents for you?"
"No," Charles shook his head. "Order General Christine to dispatch a unit to surround the detention center. Do not allow anyone to move the prisoners."
"Yes, General."
One of the key goals of the Assembly was to punish the mutiny representatives. Yet Charles had promised to protect their safety—this had beco a focal point in his battle against the Assembly.
Charles suspected the Assembly might try to secretly move the prisoners during this "transition of power."
And sure enough, just as Charles had feared, when Christine arrived at the detention center with an infantry battalion, a dozen vehicles were attempting to move the "prisoners" amidst the chaos.
Those attempting the extraction claid they were acting under orders and demanded Christine let them through.
Christine took one look at the signature on the orders and replied without hesitation:
"The commander of the Sixth Army Group is Charles. All other orders are invalid!"
"Galin was rely acting in Charles' stead during his leave."
"Clearly, German spies didn't understand the current situation. They forged orders thinking the commander hadn't returned."
His subordinates imdiately caught on:
"Yes, they're German spies."
"Fools. They've exposed themselves!"
"They really thought they could take our people right under our noses?"
As expected, the "German spies" were beaten rcilessly by the furious soldiers—faces bruised and bloodied.
If Charles hadn't appeared just in ti to stop them, there could very well have been fatalities.
Among the "prisoners" being transported were Jérémie and Darlan, both tightly bound, yet looking at Charles with visible gratitude.
Darlan was especially moved to tears. Coming from an aristocratic background, he understood exactly what this ant. His father had been a lawyer, later elected mayor of Nehack and a mber of parliant. So years ago, he had even served as Minister of Justice in the Méline Cabinet (eighteen years ago, before retiring in 1912).
Darlan knew how the Assembly operated. He knew they would push for the harshest punishnt to make an example of the mutiny leaders—to scare the entire army.
Otherwise, there would be another mutiny. And another.
By sentencing these representatives to death and publicly vilifying them in the press, they ensured no one else would dare step forward in rebellion again.
They had used this exact tactic to crush worker strikes: regular workers might be spared, but never their leaders.
Darlan understood the implications. It wasn't just about death—it was the complete destruction of honor, dignity, and even the legacy of one's family.
By the ti he was thrown into confinent, he had given up hope.
He had thought about Charles' promise.
But it was just a promise. How could Charles defy the Assembly for the sake of a re promise?
Only a fool would believe such people existed.
That's politics in France—they sought gain, not justice. No one was different. No one was an exception.
But now, with Charles standing before him, he realized he had been wrong. Charles was that exception!
"Gentlen," Charles began, standing among the soldiers, launching into an impromptu speech:
"These people who are being interrogated and locked up—we need to understand why."
"If it's for mutiny, then they shouldn't be the only ones imprisoned."
"They are detained because they were your representatives. They voiced what you wanted to say. They fought for your rights."
"More importantly, their demands in the negotiations weren't wrong."
The soldiers nodded, visibly moved and in agreent with Charles' words.
Charles continued:
"Is it wrong to refuse aningless offensives? No, I don't think so."
"In fact, I believe those officers who don't value the lives of soldiers, who push for attacks just to advance their rank, who send soldiers to die aninglessly on the battlefield—they are the ones in the wrong."
"Their actions are irresponsible. They are cris. They are murder. They are eroding the foundation and faith of France!"
The soldiers erupted in cheers, loudly showing their support.
Charles appeared to be speaking on behalf of the soldiers, but in reality, he was solidifying his own prestige and position.
Among all the generals, only Charles was the one who genuinely valued the lives of his troops, and who ensured every offensive had purpose.
Thus, supporting the idea of "refusing aningless offensives" was, in essence, supporting Charles.
The soldiers echoed back again and again:
"He's right! Those officers should be the ones imprisoned."
"They should fight wars like Charles does!"
"It's disgusting that so people still want to strip Charles of command and let those incompetent officers boss him around!"
Once the shouting settled down, Charles resud:
"Therefore, I believe the interrogations and detentions should end imdiately. Everyone locked up should be acquitted and reinstated to their original positions. What do you say?"
The soldiers raised their fists and shouted their approval. So rushed forward to untie the ropes binding the "prisoners."
Once freed, the "prisoners" scrambled forward to salute and shake Charles' hand.
Darlan was among them. He gripped Charles' hand tightly, admiration brimming in his eyes. For a long while, he couldn't speak—when he finally did, his voice trembled with emotion:
"You are the hope of France, General! We need you!"
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