YEAR: 1724. AUGUST 11TH. LOCATION: MAIN COMMAND TENT OF 9TH CORP SOMEWHERE IN THE NORTH SIDE OF THE PLAIN OF JADE.

“Sir, the enemy is retreating,” Brigadier General Devon reported, his voice as emotionless as ever. “With the commander of the Third Division dead, their entire force has lost its chain of command and is in chaos. We managed to win several skirmishes, and the majority of the enemy is now in full retreat.”

Upon hearing his report, many officers in the tent cheered. Some even laughed, realizing they now had a chance to win the battle. The tide had turned, and the enemy was fleeing.

General Cedric allowed himself a rare smile as he looked around at his officers. “This is a significant victory,” he said, his voice steady. “But we must not become complacent. We need to consolidate our gains and ensure the enemy cannot regroup.”

The officers nodded, their expressions sobering as they understood the importance of Cedric’s words. They had won a crucial skirmish, but the war was far from over.

“Devon, ensure that our troops maintain discipline during the pursuit,” Cedric continued. “We must prevent them from becoming overconfident and walking into a trap. Focus on securing our current positions and tending to the wounded.”

“Yes, sir,” Devon replied, saluting crisply before leaving the tent to relay the orders.

As the officers began discussing the next steps, Cedric’s thoughts drifted to the mysterious figure who had orchestrated the bold tactics leading to this victory. He still had questions about the identity and intentions of this unknown strategist.

“Keep an eye on our troops and ensure we’re prepared for any counterattack,” Cedric instructed. “And someone finds out more about who exactly devised these plans.”

The officers all nodded, still with a smile on their face. Outside the tent, the camp was buzzing with activity. Soldiers moved quickly to secure the perimeter, while medics tended to the wounded. The air was filled with a mix of relief and cautious optimism. The victory had boosted their morale, but they knew they needed to remain vigilant.

Cedric stepped out of the tent, looking over his men. They had fought bravely and deserved this moment of triumph. But as their leader, he knew the importance of staying focused and ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the battlefield, Cedric took a deep breath. They had won this round, but the war was far from over. With determination in his heart, he vowed to lead his men to ultimate victory, no matter the cost.

[(0)]

YEAR: 1724. AUGUST 11TH. LOCATION: COMMAND TENT OF 1ST BRIGADE SOMEWHERE IN THE EAST OF THE PLAIN OF JADE.

I couldn’t help but wonder, ‘What am I doing here again?’

Currently, I was standing at attention in the center of the command tent, surrounded by officers arguing heatedly. Almost everyone was talking at once, making it hard to make out individual words, but I got the gist of the conversation.

“Are you saying that she took down Major General Caelen?!”

“There have been many eyewitnesses of her battling the cavalryman.”

“They could have mistaken her for a random soldier!”

After I had reported that I was the one who had taken down Caelen, a huge argument ensued to determine whether it was true or not. However, it was not easy to verify my claim due to the lack of evidence.

Brigadier General Lily, standing at the head of the table, raised her hand for silence. The officers gradually quieted down, turning their attention to her.

“Enough,” Lily commanded, his voice calm but authoritative. “We cannot afford to let this matter distract us from our main objective. Whether or not Sergeant Aria is responsible for Caelen’s death, the fact remains that we have achieved a significant victory today. We need to focus on preparing for the enemy’s next move.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She turned to me, her piercing gaze unwavering. “Sergeant Aria, step forward.”

I took a deep breath and stepped closer to the table, feeling the weight of all the eyes on me.

“Describe the encounter in detail,” Lily ordered. “Leave nothing out.”

I recounted the events as clearly as I could, describing the chaotic battle, the cavalry charge, and the moment when I drove my sword into Caelen’s chest. The room was silent, the officers listening intently to every word.

When I finished, Lily nodded thoughtfully. “Eyewitness accounts may be unreliable, but the details Sergeant Aria provided align with the reports we have. Until proven otherwise, we will accept her account. Sergeant Aria, you have done a commendable job.”

There was a murmur of agreement, though some officers still looked skeptical.

“However,” Lily continued, “We must remain alert. This victory, while significant, is but one step in a long campaign. Prepare our forces for the next engagement. Dismissed.”

The officers began to file out of the tent, some still discussing the recent events in hushed tones. I stood there for a moment, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty.

As the tent emptied, Major Lyra approached me. “You did well, Aria,” She said quietly, a hint of pride in her voice. “But remember, the real test lies ahead. Stay sharp and be ready for anything.”

I nodded, grateful for her words. The argument had subsided, I needed to be careful and some still found my claim to be dubious. There was no telling what they would do to me if they were really angry.

With a deep breath, I left the command tent, ready to face whatever came next.

“You do realize that you won’t be going into any more battles, right?” Suddenly, Captain Deryk approached me with an eyebrow raised. “Just by looking at your expression, I can tell you're determined to keep fighting, but you’re injured. You’ll be dismissed to the rear until your injuries heal.”

It was true. During the fight with Caelen, I had suffered significant injuries. While they didn’t affect my fighting abilities as they avoided my limbs and vitals, they were serious enough to require bandages and over an hour of attention from the medics.

“I’ll be... dismissed?” I repeated, my mouth agape.

Come to think of it, the whole reason I wanted the promotion was to be safe from the battlefield—to be an officer and stay at the rear. Why didn’t it occur to me that getting injured would also mean staying in the rear? Was I stupid? Maybe I should get injured in every battle on purpose so I would be sent to the rear.

Captain Deryk chuckled softly. “You’re not stupid, Aria. Just driven. But even the most driven soldiers need time to recover. You’ve done more than enough for now.”

I looked down at my bandaged arms, the reality of my situation sinking in. The wounds throbbed slightly, a reminder of the fierce battle and the narrow escape from death. Despite the pain, a part of me felt good, as I realized I wouldn’t have to participate in any more battles.

“I understand, Captain,” I said finally, though a hint of reluctance lingered in my voice. “But I want to stay informed. I want to know what’s happening at the front.”

I needed to look like an honored soldier as best I could if I wanted to have a high chance of promotion. Just by wanting to stay informed about the front line, it showed my dedication to the 9th Corps, which would earn me respect.

Deryk nodded, a look of respect in his eyes. “Of course. We’ll keep you updated on the situation. But for now, focus on healing. The war will still be here when you’re ready to return. Though I imagine your wounds will heal in less than two days.”

I blinked at his response, trying to process his words. ‘My wounds will heal in less than two days… then what is the point of going to the rear?’

“Um, Deryk? Why would my wounds heal in two days? From the looks of it, they don’t seem like they would heal for at least two weeks.”

“You didn’t know?” Deryk asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “The bandages you’re wearing are enchanted with mana, specifically infused with healing magic. The military spares no expense when it comes to medics. Your injuries will heal quickly because of it.” Deryk grinned. “The reason why you healed so late in your last battle is that there wasn’t any clothing for you and they needed time for your uniform. Also, the actual reason you are getting transferred to the rear is because they need hands there. Since everyone is fighting, they’re short-staffed, so they announced that injured personnel should help with labor.”

I didn’t know if it was a good thing or bad thing that I went to the rear because they needed hands. So much for my plan to stay in the rear forever. Not only that, but I needed to work my butts off if I was sent to the rear. Was there a difference between a slave and a soldier then?

“Hey, don’t glare at me like that.” Deryk looked offended, but he petted my shoulders as he kept his stupid grin. “See you soon Aria! Don’t forget to not make mistakes under Devon since he could be a devil sometimes.”

“Thanks.” I replied with a short reply, clearly dissatisfied.

That day, I was transported to the rear along with a number of soldiers with serious injuries. True to Deryk words, we were put to immediate work when we arrived. Curse the military.