Chapter 50
But right now, he had lost the position of vice-commander. Provoking a woman backed by the power of the corps commander was not a smart move, especially if he wanted to reclaim his former post. Leonard forced a smile and replied.
“Yes, thanks to your consideration, I had a… pleasant ‘vacation.’ So, now I wish to return to the unit with a renewed mindset.”
“Return?”
“Although I’ve been dismissed from the vice-commander position, I am still a member of the 1st Holy Legion, am I not? I believe it’s time for me to pull myself together and contribute again.”
“Since when has the Holy Legion become such a feeble group that it needs your contribution?”
He had tried to speak gently, yet she didn’t even bother with a polite refusal. The woman who had always maintained a facade of courtesy now openly spoke down to him just because he had lost his position—it was infuriating. Leonard’s expression gradually twisted.
“If you insist so much, I’ll allow you to fight at the very frontlines. I’ll discuss it with the commander.”
Unable to even utter a word of thanks, Leonard simply lowered his head. He knew that to a competent officer, the frontlines could be an honorable position—and that Etienne had earned great glory from standing at the vanguard in the last war.
But even so, Mia’s words clearly implied, “Can someone like you even handle the frontlines?”—not exactly something that instilled confidence.
‘Not that it would matter to earn her trust anyway.’
To Leonard, Mia’s accomplishments were nothing more than new reasons to belittle her.
He had always possessed an inflated sense of entitlement compared to what he was actually born with. It was hard for him to accept that a mere duke’s daughter could be more capable and influential than he was. Every time stories of her achievements spread through the unit—mostly thanks to Etienne—Leonard would tear down her abilities behind her back.
Of course, his inferiority complex and attempts to justify his own incompetence did nothing to tarnish the halo that surrounded Mia.
* * *
“The next target is Brandorf. We’ll join the troops coming from Glen along the way and launch an attack.”
Brandorf.
Even if some had grown lax over the past month, there wasn’t a single person who hadn’t heard of the name. It was one of Veridian’s key military strongholds, drilled into their ears before deployment. Veridian’s forces were concentrated in the eastern Brandorf, the northern Larnwick, and the capital, Contor.
But how could they charge into such a place without prior reconnaissance? Naturally, resistance to such a sudden order was intense. Even Mia’s explanation—that the forces there had weakened due to the recent Lavin operation—offered little comfort.
“What if the reinforcements don’t arrive on time?!”
“We attack as planned. It’ll be easier with reinforcements, but even without them, it’s not an unwinnable fight.”
“That stronghold is not as easy to take as you think! You haven’t even been there yourself!”
“What a laughable thing to say, Sir. Indeed, I haven’t been there. But isn’t that also true for you?”
“Well, it’ll be my first time actually going, yes, but I’ve studied Brandorf. I’ve learned about it.”
“Ah yes, from military academy classes, I assume? I wonder just how great that knowledge from a few sheets of paper and some exaggerated lectures really is.”
Mia responded with a face full of disinterest.
“I too did some personal research this time and ‘learned’ a few things about Brandorf. Don’t you wonder whose knowledge will prove more useful in the end?”
Step. Mia closed the distance between her and Pino by one stride. She was much shorter than he was, yet the operations officer always radiated an odd pressure. Instinctively, Pino took a step back, sweating nervously.
“I’ve heard of your report, but how do you know that Brandorf’s forces have weakened? Isn’t that just a guess? We can’t act on information we’re not certain of.”
Unable to give a sharp rebuttal to Mia’s previous remark, Pino latched onto a new point of contention.
“You just have to believe.”
“That’s it? ‘Believe and charge forward’? Are you even considering the disaster that kind of blind optimism might cause?”
Pfft. Seeing Pino, red-faced and pointing a finger, Mia let out a hollow chuckle.
“Of course, the operation is more sophisticated than that. I am the operations officer, after all—would I draft something that sloppy?”
“Then at least explain it to us—!”
“But didn’t the commander already brief you all on the situation? If you can’t trust my research or my reasoning, then all I can say is: believe.”
She looked around at the officers seated in a circle. Though only Pino had spoken up, the rest didn’t look much more convinced. It wasn’t hard to guess that Pino had been chosen to speak on their behalf.
“So you all think I secured this position without knowing a thing about strategy.”
They weren’t entirely wrong. She was only there because she had been chosen by the goddess—and in her previous life, she had known nothing about warfare, simply being dragged around by Etienne.
Her arrogance—thinking that political prowess alone was enough—was shattered only after he died.
But now was not the moment to admit such a past. All she had to do was get her point across to these men who disapproved of a noblewoman with no military background.
“We will proceed as planned. The commander has already approved it, so I expect no further objections.”
* * *
“See, I told you this was a bad idea—! Argh!”
“Less talking, more running!”
The soldiers ran with everything they had. The enemy was hot on their heels.
Though they hadn’t entirely neglected training while stationed at Lavin, it was impossible to compare their current state to how they were back when they were drilling daily. Everyone knew that turning your back on a pursuing enemy was the worst thing to do—but fear overruled reason, and their bodies wouldn’t listen.
“Wh-What are you doing dodging! Charge them now!”
Marcel was the first to draw his sword. He had been told most of the city’s soldiers had been hired as mercenaries and sent to Lavin, but now it seemed like plenty had stayed behind.
‘The goddess is cruel…’
Meeting the enemy so close to the city meant there was probably no escape route. If they tried to run, they’d be surrounded by the enemies still en route. That left only one option: fight.
“Marcel’s right this time! Hold your ground and don’t run!”
Flambé barked the order to the soldiers around him. His scabbard was already empty.
“Don’t treat this like just another ambush! This is our chance to prove our worth to the commander!”
Normally, that wouldn’t have been enough to boost morale. But for soldiers who had spent a month on individual training with no real purpose, being told to prove themselves was surprisingly motivating.
Even ordinary soldiers were members of the Holy Legion. Restoring their pride mattered too.
Flambé kicked off the ground and leapt toward the enemy. In his eyes burned excitement—and a flicker of madness.
Clang! The sound of clashing blades rang out, sharp and clear. The standard-issue sword parried the enemy’s spear with ease. The metallic shriek echoed through the air. Flambé wrapped his arm with divine power—it wasn’t much, but it helped him withstand the impact.
“Guh…”
The spear pressing down on his sword grazed his cheek. A short grunt escaped Flambé’s lips. He had no time to breathe—another enemy was already upon him.
The crude axe was already stained with blood from countless others. How many had that blade felled before him? His body trembled, from tension or adrenaline—he couldn’t tell.
‘Will I finally get to have a real fight today?’
Flambé swallowed dryly.
“Filth like you doesn’t even deserve to exist in this world.”
Was it Flambé’s eager expression that provoked him? The enemy growled and spat venom. The hatred in his voice ran deep—far more than what one would expect just from facing a particularly aggressive soldier.
Bang!
The rusted axe collided with Flambé’s blade. The shriek of metal against metal tore through the air.
