Have I ever caused such great harm? At most, I've shown disrespectful behavior... maybe a bit too frequently. I did cause trouble by clashing with that traitorous bastard... but wait, wasn't that actually his fault? They can't possibly be holding my past life against me... Then why...?
Huff, huff. While Mia's mind wandered, her autonomously moving body continued swinging the wooden sword in practiced motions. Her arms trembled pitifully as they cut through empty air - the inevitable result of white-knuckling the hilt to avoid dropping it.
What else could there be...? That time I failed to support properly in battle? Or refused medical treatment? If not those, maybe they discovered my investigation into House Rochefort... Ugh, why so many possibilities?
"Your arm's dropping."
Etienne tapped Mia's formerly perfect stance with his practice sword before she could pinpoint his grudge against her. Maybe her posture hadn't been as flawless as she thought. Mia couldn't tell anymore.
She side-eyed the busy Rochefort bastard correcting her stance. Though he'd done twice her training intensity today, his pristine appearance suggested he'd never endured hardship - an infuriating sight.
Ah Goddess, why must I endure this frontline humiliation? Is this why you chose me?
"Arm position."
Unaware of Mia's blasphemous prayers, Etienne focused on adjusting her stance for what felt like the fortieth time. The forty supposedly incorrect positions couldn't all be wrong.
Mia turned to face him, sword hanging limply. She'd exhausted her mental energy hiding trembling hands and blurring vision.
Unfortunately, Etienne remained oblivious to her struggle. The infuriatingly handsome Rochefort bastard looked completely unruffled. Mia shot daggers at his fortunate face.
"One thousand sixty-two. Still 578 repetitions left..."
"Lieutenant."
"Yes?"
"If you have complaints, let's discuss them."
Please no. Mia barely swallowed the groveling plea crawling up her throat.
Though detractors had downplayed her achievements for limited frontline participation when the war began, Mia hadn't been idle in her previous life either.
As an unofficial tactical advisor, her strategies proved surprisingly effective for someone lacking combat experience. The constant deaths from poor tactics made resignation impossible - former Mia Blanchard had worked herself to exhaustion.
Such habits and survivor's guilt didn't vanish after reincarnation. Even now, after training beyond her body's limits, Mia's first act upon returning was spreading maps across her desk.
No grand使命感 required - these familiar barracks and routines felt like home.
...The only difference from her past life?
"You should rest."
"Lieutenant... are you implying I lack responsibilities?"
An unexpected nuisance followed Mia into her quarters. The Rochefort bastard ignored her挑衅, instead studying her maps with quivering lips and eyelashes that betrayed his hurt - a far cry from the tyrannical commander in Mia's memories.
By the time she recovered from the shock of seeing his hulking frame appear pitiful, she'd missed her chance to eject him. Thus the problematic noble secured extended access to his difficult subordinate's quarters.
Well, since she'd vowed full cooperation, showing strategy sessions couldn't hurt.
"There's no need for this now. Our staff handles operations, and you should rest after overexertion..."
Mia nearly expelled him upon hearing this.
"So you admit pushing me too hard?"
"Basic stamina matters most when attacks could come anytime..."
"Enough. I didn't ask for a lecture."
Too tired to argue with Etienne's lengthy excuses, Mia shook her head - insubordinate behavior acceptable for someone now treated as senior staff.
Truthfully, she wasn't as drained as he feared. Yesterday's abundant sacred energy had already restored her vitality.
'I should feel guilty being protected while learning swordsmanship to defend others...'
But rapid improvement offered the only escape. Mastering weapons became essential, whether she manifested sacred energy or not.
'Training won't be easy, but I can't neglect other duties either.' No, she needed to outwork her past self to avoid repeating that life.
As Mia fell silent with grave expression, Etienne moved to make her lie down - still treating her like a child until proving her worth.
Mia massaged her temples. Though irritating to be dismissed as tactically ignorant, Rochefort didn't know how she'd survived five years of scorn. Results would speak louder than explanations.
"Will you stay? Then sit in that chair without disturbing me. Fetch a pen too."
Bossing around a superior? Etienne smiled faintly at her unexpected defiance - he'd anticipated more timidity after her harsh treatment.
Mia seemed far tougher than expected, both mentally and physically.. Perhaps she might survive this war after all. The thought pleased him more than he cared to admit.
With scouts still absent, the general's duties remained tediously routine. Reports on trivial capital affairs, reinforcement requests, supply inventories... and one messenger bird from scouts containing only [Glen surrenders] - worthless since their capitulation was anticipated.
Thud, thud. Etienne mechanically stamped approval seals on document piles.
"We're advancing on Glen?"
"Apologies sir, but as honorary staff..."
"So that's why you've excluded me from operations!"
"Not exclusion, but..."
"Enough excuses. Show me the map. I know we've nowhere else to attack."
"...Yes."
