Chapter 2 "You must lie still."
He spoke as he lifted Mia's clothes. Mia, who instinctively wanted to stop him, relaxed when she confirmed that his intentions were purely for treatment, not anything else.
It felt awkward. The Rochefort general Mia knew was never such a delicate person.
The red bandages ripped as unfamiliar hands moved. Mia tried her best not to show any pain.
It seemed bearable. After observing Mia's reaction for a while, Etienne concluded it was manageable and started speaking. His hands moved busily as he stitched up her wound.
After hearing the rough situation, Mia calmly spoke.
"So, while we're stationed here, our goal is to force the surrounding territories to surrender?"
"That would be the best-case scenario, but I don't expect that the territories will surrender. Once the scouting of the territories is mostly done, we will advance regardless of their response."
Mia hadn't known this. She had been under the impression that a declaration of surrender would be received before they departed, so she had naturally assumed that was the main objective.
Deep in thought, Mia did not speak further, and Etienne's monologue continued while he worked on her injury.
After the final stitch, Etienne infused his divine power into the wound. His divine power didn't align well with healing, but it was enough to prevent the stitches from reopening.
"All done. If you have any more questions…"
Etienne said, wrapping her wound with a bandage.
There was no answer.
...Was the treatment done correctly? Etienne nervously placed his hand under Mia's nose. The warm air he felt on his fingers confirmed she was still breathing. That was a relief.
He had assumed that she wasn't feeling much pain since she seemed to endure the treatment quite well, but it seemed that assumption was wrong.
"If I had known you might lose consciousness, I should have used anesthetics."
Etienne's smooth forehead creased. He wondered if she was in much pain. He regretted not checking on her sooner. His gaze lingered on Mia's eyelids for a moment, unable to hide his concern.
'Still, it should be okay.'
It wouldn't take long for him to realize just how wrong that assumption was.
"Teach me how to fight with a sword."
"Pardon?"
Who would have expected such words after avoiding the soldiers who seemed troubled just by looking at the general?
Etienne glanced at the woman before him, clearly taken aback.
She must have jumped out of bed—her clothes were disheveled, and her shoes weren't even properly tied. Her sword sheath was hastily grabbed, with the handle sticking out awkwardly.
There were red stains on her white uniform, which, despite his best judgment, seemed to be from her wound reopening. Etienne was worried.
But why was she saying this now? Anyone could see that treating her wound was far more urgent than sword training. Yet Mia didn't seem to care about the blood that was once again seeping from her side.
She didn't resemble the perfect aristocrat who would be impeccably poised even in the harshest political settings.
Had she had a nightmare? Etienne, misjudging her intent, tried to dissuade her.
"You seem tired. You should go rest and sleep. We can talk again in the morning."
"No, I need to hear the answer now."
Her voice was firm. She didn't sound like someone mumbling nonsense out of exhaustion.
Only then did Etienne look into Mia's eyes again. Her red eyes were burning with determination.
Etienne sensed that this wasn't something she was saying lightly. This wasn't a childish whim from a naive noblewoman.
Mia Blanchard was completely serious. No matter the reason behind her resolve, Etienne could feel that Mia meant every word.
Don't look at me like I don't understand.
Oh, did it show?
Do you train the soldiers like this, weakly at times?
I don't know. Once their bodies are torn to shreds, they'll naturally avoid training. I've never had to yell at them to train.
But, sir, am I like those soldiers?
Huh?
Is it right for someone called a hero to retreat to the rear just because of a small wound, like an ordinary soldier?
Young lady!
Don't call me that!
Mia was desperate. But Etienne didn't seem to want to leave her outside any longer. He continued to try to soothe her, and the conversation trailed off.
He persuaded her with the condition that she rest until fully recovered, and Mia reluctantly returned to her bed.
Rochefort did not follow. Outside the tent, soldiers were shouting.
Mia sat alone, recalling the unsettling dream from the previous night. Despite receiving confirmation that she could assist in training, the thought of that dream still made her uneasy.
The winter mountain path was very cold and slippery. It was an unfamiliar climate, and it took a long time to adapt. The dense snow and branches made visibility poor, and the terrain made it difficult to detect enemy ambushes or encirclements.
The thought that they might face total annihilation kept lingering in Mia's mind, and with each step, the morale of the troops steadily dropped.
But for the First Holy Legion, nearly half of whose forces had been decimated, this treacherous path was their only escape. The enemy's main force was stationed in the plains, and the sea route was too far away.
If they tried to bypass the mountains, the enemy would likely pursue them. Even retreating wouldn't make much of a difference. The only viable option to reach their destination alive was to proceed secretly through the mountains.
It was a desperate situation, but no one dared to speak of it aloud. The only hope sustaining them was Etienne Rochefort, who still led from the front.
No one expected that this would be Rochefort's final battle.
Except for Mia Blanchard.
Mia watched the scene ahead with an indifferent face. Whether it was because she had experienced it once before or because she realized it was a dream, there was no tension like last time.
Frost began to fall. Soon, the enemy would take advantage of the reduced visibility to launch a surprise attack.
And soon, Rochefort would charge into the enemy forces, trapped…
'Huh…?'
This dream was different from Mia's memory.
"Run!"
Rochefort pushed Mia away and rushed forward. Mia tumbled in the snow, coughing up dry air.
The explosion of divine power and the blinding snow made it hard to see, but even amidst it all, Mia could tell from her battle experience.
Rochefort would not die in that battle, at that moment.
He hadn't been caught in a trap; he had jumped into it willingly.
If he had even a slight desire to live, he would have...
'But then… didn't it seem like he died to protect me?'
Mia was by Rochefort's side at the end. She no longer remembered her reasoning for doing so.
What she did remember clearly was the thought that the cost of one person's death, for something she caused, was too high.
Etienne Rochefort did not scream even once. A hole large enough to pierce through his chest had been created, and yet he endured it. Whether he was unusually strong or whether he had something he wanted to convey by enduring that pain, Mia still didn't know.
"Blan…chard… you… you are… much more… capable…"
Perhaps he had used up all his divine power in the battle, but the faint divine power that remained enveloped Mia, as if comforting her.
Ah, that's right.
The guilt she had buried deep inside triggered a memory in Mia's mind.
Back then, she was sure his violet eyes, dimming, had been fixed on her until the very end. The last thing she saw in his eyes was trust. He could never have thought that the person holding his hand was the one responsible for his death.
Her own incompetence and the evil she had done didn't seem to justify the enormous cost of that trust.