Chapter 9
“To Enoch, who must be doing perfectly fine.
Escaping from that stump of a demon? Definitely something to celebrate. You won’t have to see that guy ever again, right? I bet that stump is off somewhere right now tormenting some other poor soul.
I was really worried you might suffer for days on end. I was afraid the laughter would vanish from your letters! And you know what I think your greatest strength is? It’s that very laughter. Just by reading your letters, one can’t help but know you’re living happily—that’s the kind of power you have.
Me? Of course, my days are far from happy. But that doesn’t mean I envy you. On the contrary, exchanging letters with you greatly reassures me. Even though you live in a completely different world from mine, it tells me that somewhere out there, everyday life is still going on, and the world isn’t entirely falling apart.
War won’t last forever. And if I survive, I should have some kind of normal life to return to, right? That’s why there’s nothing I’m happier to hear than news that others are living happily while I’m stuck here.
So I hope you’ll keep on being happy. That’s what helps me endure longer.
And you? You’d definitely have opened the window for the crow. You’re not the kind of cold-hearted person who’d turn away a crow on a freezing winter’s day. Did the crow apologize? Tell him everything you went through! Then he won’t be able to help but apologize—no matter how infamous he is for being irritating.
Anyway, now you can finally rest easy. I wish that day would come for me too.
You’ve given me so many fun stories that I feel like I should give you something in return, but I’ve got nothing to tell. What good things could possibly happen here?
Still, I’ll tell you whatever comes to mind.
Maybe some old stories of mine or something like that.
Bye for now!
— H.A”
“Helen Atwell?”
Helen, who had just set down her letter paper, looked up. A lieutenant she’d never seen before was standing at the door, watching her with an expression that clearly said he had something urgent to say. Helen had no choice but to get up from her seat.
“Major Morton wants to see you.”
Morton? In person? Pushing aside the clouds of questions rising in her mind, Helen followed the lieutenant. They crossed the corridor and went up the stairs, stopping in front of another door.
It seemed the lieutenant’s job ended once he brought her here.
After knocking, they heard a reply from inside. Helen stepped past him into the room.
Alec Morton was waiting for her. His slightly tousled brown hair, once neatly kept, and his somber blue eyes were the same as ever. That shade of blue was a hallmark of Imperial citizens. Helen wasn’t all that surprised—after all, Morton spoke the Imperial language with flawless pronunciation, the very picture of an Imperial man.
“You called for me?”
“Yes. This won’t be a short conversation, so have a seat.”
Helen did as he said and sat in front of the desk. It was the first time she’d faced Major Morton this closely. Looking at his well-defined features gave her an odd feeling. Morton was without a doubt a competent officer, but there was something about him that felt… off.
“How’s army life treating you?”
Helen furrowed her brows slightly. She’d been in the army for half a year now, and there was really only one answer to that sort of question.
“Yes, it’s manageable.”
“Getting along with your comrades?”
“Yes.”
Helen had been expecting him to discuss something serious, so she was confused. Why ask pointless questions like this? He was talking to her as if she were a first-grader just starting school.
“With supplies being short right now, I imagine things must be difficult. But hang in there a little longer. The day will come when you’ll see the light.”
“…Yes.”
This conversation with a superior was making her uncomfortable. She already wanted to get back to her comrades. Until now, Morton had never exchanged so much as a word with her—why start now?
Sure enough, he pulled out a document that seemed to be the main point.
“I heard about your counseling record, Atwell.”
Ah. So that’s why. Once she understood why she’d been summoned, Helen felt noticeably calmer.
Morton, on the other hand, looked utterly weary and worn out.
“The army doctor says your condition has greatly improved. You’ve been removed from the list of those recommended for treatment. Based on that, the higher-ups have decided…”
Morton rubbed his eyes and sighed.
“…to assign you to more important combat missions.”
“I’ve already been on active missions.”
“This will be different. You’re an exceptional soldier, Atwell. If it weren’t for certain circumstances, you’d already be promoted to sergeant. The higher-ups have been watching your abilities. From now on, you’ll be under their direct supervision.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Morton’s pale blue eyes met hers. He rephrased his words more plainly.
“Atwell, what I mean is—you’re going to be my direct subordinate.”
Major Morton was an officer who took on the most dangerous yet critical missions. Being under his command meant only one thing—
Helen’s chances of dying had just doubled, maybe tripled.
Already, in her head, she was drafting her next letter to Enoch.
Shit. Enoch, I’m really in trouble this time.
