TWWSY 07

Chapter 7

‘Did I ever cause such serious harm? At most, I was just a bit insolent… okay, maybe a lot insolent. I got into conflicts with that traitor and made things difficult for him… But that wasn’t my fault, was it? He wouldn’t be holding a grudge over something from a past life, would he? Then what the heck is the reason…?’

Huff, huff. While Mia was lost in these tangled thoughts, her body, running on autopilot, continued swinging the wooden sword in a regular pattern. Her arms trembled pitifully in the air, likely because she was gripping the handle too tightly, afraid of dropping it.

‘What else could it be… Maybe I didn’t support him properly during a battle? Or was it when I refused treatment? Or… was I caught digging into the House of Rochefort? Or maybe… Ugh, why are there so many things?’

There were so many possibilities to feel guilty about that she had no idea where to start. Still, none of them seemed serious enough to warrant this kind of childish revenge.

“Your arm is going to fall off.”

In the end, Mia couldn’t figure out exactly what kind of grudge Etienne held against her. She didn’t get the chance—because Etienne pointed out her form, tapping her arm with the wooden sword that had been extended at the perfect angle. Maybe her stance wasn’t as perfect as she thought. Mia didn’t know.

She cast a sideways glare at the Rochefort bastard who was busy correcting her posture. It irritated her to see him looking so pristine—as if he had never suffered a day in his life—even though he had likely gone through far more intense training earlier that day.

‘Oh, goddess. Why did I have to be dragged all the way to the frontlines just to suffer like this? Did you choose me just to torment me?’

“Arm position.”

Unaware of Mia’s blasphemous prayer, Etienne remained focused on correcting her form. She must’ve been corrected over forty times by now. Surely they couldn’t all have been wrong.

Mia lowered her sword and turned to face him, doing her best to hide her trembling hands and blurry vision. Just standing upright took all her concentration.

Unfortunately, Etienne had no idea how much pain she was enduring just to look him in the eye.

Looking down at her, that Rochefort bastard still had a disgustingly handsome face—even in this situation.

So unfairly composed. Mia gave him a sour look just for being so unpleasantly perfect.

“…One thousand one hundred and fifty-two. Only 578 more to go.”

“Sir.”

“Yes?”

“If you’ve got a problem, can we just talk about it?”

Please. Mia barely stopped herself from tacking on that pitiful plea out loud.

When the war first began, Mia had barely been allowed to participate in combat. Because of that, slanderers had downplayed her achievements. But even in her past life, Mia hadn’t been idle.

Though she hadn’t earned an official rank through enlistment, she had served as a strategy officer. And for someone with no firsthand war experience, her tactics had been surprisingly effective.

Knowing how many lives could be lost overnight due to the lack of proper strategy, Mia couldn’t just stop working—even when her efforts went unrecognized. So, in her past life, Mia Blanche endured constant overwork.

That habit—and the guilt of lives lost because of poor planning—wasn’t something that vanished just because she died once. And in this life, Mia wasn’t much different.

Which is why, after completing a physically punishing training session her body clearly wasn’t ready for, the first thing she did—while groaning in pain from muscle soreness—was unfold a map.

It didn’t take a great sense of duty. No matter how tired she was, this was familiar. The barracks, the landscape, the lifestyle—it was all the same to Mia.

The only difference from her previous life was…

“Don’t you ever rest?”

“Sir… do you not have enough work to do?”

An unexpected burden had attached itself to her—one she hadn’t accounted for when entering the barracks.

That Rochefort bastard didn’t respond to her clearly sarcastic question and instead looked down at the map Mia had spread open. His lips jutted out, his lashes trembled slightly—his face full of visible offense, even if he didn’t voice it. So unlike the overbearing commander she remembered.

Somehow, despite his massive frame, he managed to look pitiful. Mia was so caught off guard that she missed her chance to kick him out. That delay gave him the ‘right’ to linger in the tent of a very picky subordinate.

Well, since she had resolved to cooperate with him anyway, there was no harm in letting him see the strategy-making process.

“There’s really no need to do this right now, is there? Even if you don’t get involved, our staff is already developing battle plans. And more importantly, you should rest after pushing yourself so hard…”

She almost kicked him out again after hearing that last part.

“Oh? So you do know you pushed me too hard?”

“I mean, while a full-blown war hasn’t begun yet, we don’t know when or where we’ll be attacked. So to prepare as efficiently as possible, you first need to build up your physical endurance—”

“That’s enough. I wasn’t asking because I didn’t know.”

Mia shook her head, not having the energy to get angry anymore as Etienne rambled on about his reasons.

It was a disrespectful gesture toward a superior, but since she was technically being treated like a high-ranking Interior Ministry official, it didn’t matter much.

Truth be told, Mia’s stamina wasn’t even as poor as he worried. Thanks to the overflowing divine power she’d received the day before, her body had already recovered significantly.

‘It feels wrong to be protected while learning the sword for the sake of protecting him, but…’

If she wanted to escape that role quickly, the only option was to become stronger—fast. It would be ideal to manifest divine power, but even if that didn’t happen, she at least needed to fully master a weapon.

‘Training won’t be easy, but I can’t neglect my other work either.’

In fact, if she didn’t want to repeat her past life, she needed to work even harder than before.

Mia remained silent with a serious expression, and Etienne, worried, reached out to gently push her back down to rest.

Apparently, he wasn’t going to stop hovering over her like a child until he personally confirmed her usefulness.

Mia rubbed her temple.

It was annoying to be treated like a clueless rookie, but he still didn’t understand the reason she’d survived for five years despite being belittled so harshly. Rather than arguing about it, it was easier to show him through results.

“Are you planning to stay here? Then don’t get in the way—sit in that chair. And hand me a pen, too.”

Ordering around her superior—unthinkable, normally. He had assumed Mia would be a little cowed after the treatment she’d received, but her unexpected behavior made Etienne smile faintly.

Mia was stronger than he had expected—both mentally and physically. Maybe, just maybe, she would survive this war after all.

And Etienne found that thought… oddly reassuring.

Since the scouts hadn’t yet returned, even the tasks of the corps commander were mind-numbingly dull.

The latest news from the capital held no substance, followed by requests for reinforcements and supply reports… oh, and one carrier pigeon letter from a scout. Nothing was unimportant, but none were urgent.

If he had to choose, maybe the carrier pigeon was the most significant? Still, that letter only contained one lazy sentence: