Did I really do something so terrible? At most, I just showed some disrespect... well, maybe a little often. I caused some conflict with the traitor and made things difficult for him... But that wasn't really my fault, was it? Surely he's not still holding a grudge from our past life? Then why on earth...?'
Huff, huff. While Mia was lost in thought, her body moved on its own, swinging the wooden sword in steady motions. Maybe she was gripping it too hard, because her arms were shaking terribly as they sliced through the air.
'Then what else could it be...? Was it when I didn't assist him properly in battle? Or when I refused treatment? Maybe he found out I was looking into the Rochefort family? Or... Ugh, there's way too much to choose from.'
There were so many things that could've upset him, but none of them seemed serious enough to justify such childish revenge.
"Your arm's about to fall off."
In the end, Mia couldn't figure out exactly what kind of grudge he held against her. Before she could dwell on it more, Etienne lightly tapped her outstretched arm with his wooden sword to correct her stance. Maybe her posture wasn't as perfect as she thought. Mia didn't know for sure.
Mia glared sideways at that annoying Rochefort guy who was busy correcting her. He had probably gone through even harsher training earlier in the day, yet he still looked fresh, like someone who had never suffered a day in his life. It was infuriating.
'Oh Goddess, why do I have to go through this mess all the way on the frontlines? Did You choose me just to torture me like this?'
"Arm position."
Without knowing what blasphemous prayer Mia was muttering in her heart, Etienne stayed focused on correcting her posture. It felt like he had fixed the same position over forty times already. Surely not all forty were wrong?
Mia let her sword drop and turned to face Etienne. Her hands trembled like leaves, and her vision blurred as she struggled to hide her exhaustion.
Unfortunately, Etienne had no idea how much pain Mia was enduring just to stand and look him in the eye.
Even now, the Rochefort guy looked irritatingly handsome as he stared down at her.
'Ugh, of course he still looks perfect.' Mia shot him a dirty look.
"...One thousand one hundred and sixty-two. Only 578 to go."
"S-Sir."
"Yes?"
"If you have a problem, can we talk it out?"
Please, Mia barely held back her desperate, pleading words.
When the war first began, Mia was wrongly accused and her accomplishments were downplayed because she didn't fight directly in battles. But even in her past life, Mia wasn't someone with a lot of free time.
She didn't hold an official military rank, but she had worked as a strategy officer. And even though she had no real battle experience, her tactics worked pretty well.
She knew exactly how many lives were lost in a single night due to poor planning. So even if she wasn't recognized for her work, she couldn't just sit back and do nothing. That's why Mia Blancheard in her past life was always overworked.
And just because she died and came back didn't mean those habits or her guilt over lost lives had disappeared. So this time around, Mia wasn't much different.
Even after returning sore and exhausted from a training session that her body clearly wasn't ready for, the first thing she did was spread out a map.
It wasn't about a sense of duty. No matter how tired she was, this camp, this scenery, this lifestyle—it was all familiar to Mia.
The only difference from her past life was...
"Can't you rest a little?"
"Sir, do you... not have enough to do?"
As Mia tried to enter her tent, an unexpected nuisance followed her inside.
The Rochefort guy didn't answer her clearly sarcastic question. Instead, he looked down at the map Mia had opened. His pouting lips and trembling lashes showed more emotion than his face. He looked nothing like the strict commander Mia remembered—his attitude was completely different.
Mia didn't shoo him away fast enough, surprised to see someone with such a large build looking so... pitiful. Because of that, the Rochefort guy somehow earned himself the right to linger in her tent a bit longer.
Well, she had already decided to cooperate with him anyway. There was no harm in letting him see how she put together strategies.
"Do you really have to do this right now? Even if you don't handle it personally, our staff is already working on the strategy. Besides, you just pushed yourself too far—you should rest..."
Mia almost threw him out after hearing that.
"Oh, so you do know you pushed me too hard?"
"Well, even though the real battle hasn't started yet, we never know when or where an attack might come. To build strength efficiently, first you need a strong foundation of physical stamina..."
"Enough. I didn't ask because I didn't know that."
Mia shook her head, too tired to keep listening to Etienne's excuses. It was a rude gesture to make toward a superior, but since she was currently being treated as a high-ranking official from the Interior Ministry, it didn't really matter.
Truthfully, her physical strength wasn't as bad as Etienne feared. Thanks to an overflow of divine power the day before, her body had already recovered quite a bit.
'It feels wrong to be learning the sword to protect this guy, yet still being protected by him.'
But if she wanted to move past that, the only option was to get stronger—fast. It would be best if she could use divine power, but even if not, she had to be able to master at least one weapon.
'Training won't be easy, but that doesn't mean I can neglect my other duties.'
No, if she wanted to avoid repeating her past life, she had to work even harder than before.
As Mia went silent with a serious expression, Etienne tried to gently push her back down to rest.
It looked like he was going to keep treating her like a child until he saw her true abilities for himself.
Mia rubbed her temple.
Being treated like some clueless rookie strategist was annoying enough. But that Rochefort guy still didn't know how she managed to survive for five whole years in her past life, even while constantly being looked down on. The best way to show him why she had to lead strategies wasn't through arguing—it was through results.
"Are you planning to stay here? Then don't interrupt and just sit in that chair. Oh, and hand me a pen."
Ordering her superior around—how bold. Etienne had expected Mia to be more timid after everything she'd been through. But seeing her firm attitude, he couldn't help but smile faintly.
Mia was stronger than he thought—not just mentally, but physically too. Maybe she really could survive this war.
And that made Etienne feel unexpectedly relieved.
Since the scouts hadn't returned yet, the duties of the corps commander were boringly repetitive.
Reports from the capital, requests for backup deployments, supply documents... Oh, and one pigeon-delivered message from a scout. None of it was unimportant, but none of it was urgent either.
If he had to pick, the pigeon message was probably more important. But it only contained one sentence: [Glen has declared surrender.] That wasn't very useful right now. They had already expected Glen to surrender, after all.
Thud, thud. Etienne stamped his seal on the endless pile of papers almost automatically.
— "You're planning to advance on Glen, right?"
— "…I'm sorry, but even though I'm a strategy officer, your position is honorary, so I can't share classified information."
— "Haah… Is that why you've been keeping me out of the planning process this whole time?"
— "It wasn't to exclude you, just to spare you the burden..."
— "Enough excuses. Just show me the map. I already know there's nowhere else to attack but the city."
END OF CHAPTER
Author's note:
Note from Emily:*
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