The First Command
The nightmare began the moment I first opened my eyes as Irina van Evergarden.
Irina van Evergarden—no longer able to recall her original name—woke to find herself on a battlefield. At first, she couldn’t comprehend the situation. How could she? What greeted her upon waking wasn’t an unfamiliar ceiling, nor silk curtains, nor an antique bedroom, nor warm sunlight slipping through a window. What filled her vision was a tattered military tent. A field tent soaked in rain, dust, and gunpowder smoke, its color long dead. Patched in places, trembling faintly whenever the wind blew. Just an ordinary field tent.
Boom.
A distant artillery shell exploded. The ground trembled ever so slightly in response. The vibration traveled up the legs of the cot and into her back. Irina blinked. Once. Twice. The tent didn’t vanish. The artillery fire didn’t stop. And only then did the smells hit her. The scent of medicine. Wet earth. Gunpowder. Sweat. And blood.
It wasn’t the battlefield scent she had imagined through a screen. It wasn’t the description she had read in text. This was a real smell—something that stabbed the inside of her nose, clung to the back of her throat, and made her stomach churn.
“What the hell…”
The voice slipped out. And in that instant, Irina froze. It wasn’t her voice. It was a low, dry woman’s voice. Startled, she clutched her throat. The sensation was different. The shape of her hand was different too. Long, slender fingers. Pale skin. But the palm was covered in hard calluses. The hand of someone who had gripped a sword for a very long time. Elegant and white to look at, yet a hand accustomed to gripping, cutting, and killing.
Irina stared at that hand for a long moment. Only then did she look down at her own body. There was an unfamiliar weight on her chest. Her waist was narrower than she remembered. The balance of her shoulders felt different. The center of her body had completely shifted. Bandages were wrapped around her side, and her uniform was crusted with dried mud and blood. Most of all, silver hair cascaded over her shoulders.
Irina caught a strand between her fingers. It was real silver. Not dyed. A cold, vivid color, as if she had been born with it. Then her eyes fell on a small metal mirror hanging nearby. It was a field-issue item, its surface uneven and scratched in several places. Almost in a trance, Irina picked it up. And she saw the face inside the mirror.
There was a stranger there. Silver hair. Pale skin. Eyes as pale blue as glass. A sharp, beautiful face. Bloodless lips and dark shadows beneath tired eyes. An appearance far too unreal for the middle of a battlefield.
The moment she saw that face, Irina had a very stupid thought.
She’s pretty.
She really was beautiful. Only then did she realize—she knew this face. She knew this silver hair. She knew these blue eyes.
Irina van Evergarden.
The name rose in her mind. Eldest daughter of the northern military noble House van Evergarden. Imperial Army officer. Rank: Major. Temporary commander of the Western Front’s 3rd Defense Sector. And a character from the modern fantasy war simulation game Espera. One of the broken characters so strong she was called a cheat.
“Wait.”
Irina looked at the mirror again. No. By now the name had embedded itself in her mind like it belonged to her. Irina van Evergarden. A name no one who had ever played Espera could possibly forget. She wasn’t the protagonist given from the start. She wasn’t even the flagship character pushed to the forefront. But anyone who properly explored the Empire route would eventually reach her. And most of them said the same thing.
Is this balanced?
That was the kind of character Irina van Evergarden was.
Her initial appearance timing was certainly awkward. The front lines were a mess, her rank was only Major, and the surrounding units were in poor shape. If you messed up her first appearance event, she would die or be forced out due to injury. But if she survived, everything changed.
Swordsmanship: S. Agility: S. Tactics: A. Composure: A. Leadership: B+. Magic Aptitude: A.
Stats that made no sense for an early-game officer. Her growth rate was even worse. Every battle she survived sent her stats skyrocketing. Surviving crises unlocked traits, and skills like Frontline Breakthrough and Single-Point Severance were added. In the late game, her unique trait Silver Reaper would even open up.
She wasn’t just a strong character. She was a woman playing an action game inside a war simulation. That was what people said. A properly raised Irina van Evergarden could go toe-to-toe with Axion Liberta, the First Sword of the Continent, in the latter half of the game. That Axion. The man who appeared like a literal disaster in the Alliance route. The monster who could wipe out your carefully raised hero units in a single blow and tear apart entire front lines if you met him at the wrong time.
Irina van Evergarden could beat him.
This body was that very character.
The moment she realized it, the first emotion that rose wasn’t fear. Of course she was scared. Her body had become a woman’s, her original name barely surfaced in her mind, and she had woken up in the middle of a battlefield. It was anything but normal. Yet above all that confusion, a very strange excitement surged.
She had entered the game. And not as a nameless soldier or an early-game casualty, but as Irina van Evergarden. The Empire route’s ultimate cheat character. A woman who would become a war hero as long as she survived.
This was a cheat. There was the problem of her body being female, but performance-wise, it was an absurd cheat. And she knew Espera. She knew the battle events. She knew the strategies. She knew which choices would trigger what.
Future knowledge. A cheat character. Starting on the battlefield.
It was incredibly dangerous, but at the same time, it felt far too perfect. Using strategy knowledge to overturn early crises. Gaining the trust of her subordinates. Saving characters who were originally doomed to die. Overturning the battlefield with the cheat that was Irina van Evergarden’s body.
It was a cliché story. Truly cliché.
But the Irina of that time had looked forward to that cliché story.
“This is real…”
Irina gripped the sword at her waist. Her hand wrapped around it naturally. The texture of the leather-wrapped hilt. The balance. The angle of the draw. Her body already knew everything. She drew the blade halfway. The edge caught the faint light inside the tent and flashed coldly. There was no strain on her wrist. It felt far too natural.
She had never learned swordsmanship. Yet this body reacted as if it had swung a blade thousands, tens of thousands of times. The sensation was strangely exhilarating.
“Definitely a cheat.”
A small laugh escaped her. She could still laugh then. Because she hadn’t truly seen the battlefield yet. She had heard the artillery fire and smelled the blood, but until then everything still felt like background music from a game. The atmosphere of a crisis event. The tension of an early battle. That was how she had thought of it.
Then she heard footsteps running toward the tent. The sound of military boots on wet mud. Fast and urgent. And they were heading straight for her. Irina lifted her head. The fact that she could read distance and speed from footsteps alone was fascinating. Her body truly knew the battlefield.
The tent flap opened. A young officer entered. His gray uniform was stained with mud and blood, and a thin cut ran across one cheek. The moment he saw Irina, relief washed over his face.
“Major, you’re awake?”
Major. The title felt both unfamiliar and strangely real. Irina van Evergarden. Imperial Army Major. The character whose stat window would pop up when you clicked on her in the game. She was now hearing that character’s rank spoken directly to her.
The officer continued immediately.
“I’m sorry. I know you need rest. But the situation is urgent.”
At those words, Irina began piecing together the current situation in her head. Western Front. 3rd Defense Sector. Artillery fire. This timing. It was probably the Battle of Krasen Canyon. The infamous early-game crisis event in the Empire route. The battle where the Alliance forces destroyed the second trench with night bombardment and sent Magic Cavalry around the southern ridge to tear apart the command post. First-timers almost always fell for it. But if you knew the strategy, you could stop it.
The officer said, “The second trench has collapsed.”
As expected. Irina thought to herself.
“Contact with the 7th Company has been lost. Over half the Magic Artillery Battalion has gone silent after their ammunition depot was hit, and enemy Magic Cavalry movement has been confirmed on the southern ridge.”
That was correct too.
“The Captain was injured and evacuated. You are currently the only officer capable of command.”
The flow was almost identical. It matched the game event. The specific lines were different, but the situation was the same. If she handled this well, not only could she ensure Irina van Evergarden’s survival, she could also save Lieutenant Hartmann. She could rescue some of the 7th Company’s remaining forces. The stability of the Western Front would be maintained.
The officer spoke desperately. “Please give us your orders, Major.”
The moment those words fell, Irina rose from the cot. Her side throbbed. Her vision shook slightly. But her body quickly regained balance. She really was strong. Irina unfolded the map on the table beside the cot. A topographic map of Krasen Canyon. The real thing was far messier than the game UI. The ink had bled, and there were bloody handprints from someone. But she could read it. It almost perfectly overlapped with the minimap in her head.
Irina pointed at the center of the canyon with her finger. Right here. Draw them in and blow them up.
“Current troop strength.”
Her voice was remarkably calm. Inside, she was thrilled. The absurd sensation of personally commanding a battlefield from inside the game was rising all the way to her fingertips.
The officer answered immediately. “Available forces are approximately 120 survivors from the first trench, 80 in reserve, and around 260 total if we include those with minor injuries. Three Magic Artillery pieces are operational. Two northern heavy machine gun positions and one central position remain active.”
“Artillery ammunition remaining?”
“Two rounds each.”
“Machine gun ammunition?”
“The two northern positions can sustain fire for about six minutes. The central position has less than three.”
“Time for reserves to reach the southern ridge?”
“Seven to nine minutes.”
Irina nodded. It was almost exactly like the strategy guide. Few variables. It was doable.
“Abandon the central first trench.”
The officer’s face hardened. “Pardon?”
“I said abandon it.” Irina continued rapidly. “Pull the remaining forces back behind the northern machine gun positions. Pretend to retreat and create a gap in the center.”
“But then the enemy infantry will pour straight in.”
“Let them.”
The moment she said it, her heart beat harder. I know the flow of this battle. I know things these people don’t. If I draw the enemy in here, I win. That certainty tasted sweet.
Irina pointed at the narrowing section of the canyon. “Aim all three Magic Artillery pieces here. When the enemy infantry pushes into the center and becomes densely packed, fire then.”
“Our own trenches will be destroyed along with them.”
“They’ve already collapsed, haven’t they?”
The words came out far too easily. To the Irina of that time, that place was simply a collapsed trench. Ruined tiles. Terrain that had lost its defensive value. A spot where bombardment would cause minimal loss. The thought that there might still be people clinging to life down there flashed through her mind for a brief moment before being pushed aside by the strategy route. What mattered was saving the front line. Winning here was enough.
Irina pointed at the southern ridge. “Send all reserves to the southern ridge.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
“That will leave the main camp undefended.”
“If the south is breached, the main camp is finished anyway. Don’t try to destroy the Magic Cavalry—tie them down. Ten minutes is all we need.”
The officer’s expression changed. First confusion. Then understanding. Finally, something close to awe. The moment she saw that face, Irina felt a strange thrill. Yes. This is what game knowledge tastes like. Seeing paths others couldn’t see. Finding answers in situations that looked impossible. Watching people around her be shocked when she spoke those answers. It truly felt like she had entered this world carrying a strategy guide.
“Do not abandon the northern machine gun positions under any circumstances,” Irina said even faster. “Once the central bombardment ends, begin crossfire. Strip the central position of ammunition and then demolish it. There’s no reason to let the Alliance forces use it.”
“The 7th Company…”
“Attempt to reestablish contact. If they’re alive, they’ll fire two flares. Once their position is confirmed, pull them north along the central retreat route.”
She even recalled the hidden condition. Saving some of the 7th Company’s remaining forces would grant a veteran bonus. Lieutenant Hartmann’s loyalty would also increase.
Then Irina looked at the officer before her. Just in case.
“Name.”
The officer hesitated. “Pardon?”
“Your name.”
He straightened his posture. “Lieutenant Rowen Hartmann, ma’am.”
As expected. Irina smiled inwardly. Lieutenant Hartmann. A practical character who appeared as an early adjutant. His stats were average, but his loyalty grew quickly and he gained staff officer bonuses in the mid-game. Keeping him alive would prove quite useful. In the game, he had simply been an efficient adjutant. Now he stood before her with a face covered in mud and blood.
But the Irina of that time still didn’t truly understand the difference. She only thought she did.
“Deliver the orders, Lieutenant Hartmann.”
“Yes, Major!”
Rowen saluted and dashed out of the tent. The flap closed. Immediately the outside began to move.
“Central forces, retreat!”
“Clear the first trench!”
“Reserves, move to the southern ridge!”
“Adjust Magic Artillery coordinates!”
Shouts spread. People moved. Irina listened to those sounds from inside the tent. Footsteps. Voices relaying orders. The clash of metal equipment. The rumble of wheels repositioning the Magic Artillery. All of it was moving because of a few words she had just spoken.
Irina felt a tingling at her fingertips. There was fear as well. But stronger than that was the sensation of personally moving a massive board. What she had done with mouse clicks in the game, she was now doing with her own mouth. And it was working.
She put on her coat. She checked the sword at her waist. The feeling of her hand wrapping around the hilt still felt perfectly natural.
“It really is a cheat,” she muttered quietly. A short laugh escaped her.
Up until that moment, it had been that way. Irina still hadn’t truly seen the battlefield. She had smelled the blood and heard the artillery from inside the tent, received reports, but they still felt like the atmosphere of a game event. It was frightening. It was unfamiliar. Yet anticipation came first.
The fact that she had become a cheat character. The fact that her game knowledge worked. The fact that she could overturn the battle from the very first fight according to strategy. All of it still felt like excitement.
Irina walked to the tent entrance. She lifted the flap. She stepped outside.
The cold night air and the smell of gunpowder struck her face. And only then did she see it.
The battlefield. The real battlefield.
Krasen Canyon was burning. Even though it was night, the center of the canyon glowed red. The earth overturned by bombardment was soaked black, and shattered wooden barriers and barbed wire lay tangled atop the mud. People had fallen. Some were still moving. Some were not. One soldier, missing everything below his legs, was crawling by clawing at the mud with his arms. Another pressed both hands to his stomach and called for a medic. Another opened his mouth to say something, but only blood flowed out.
Irina’s feet stopped.
The smell of blood she had caught inside the tent and the smell of blood she now faced outside were different. Much thicker. Much hotter. Blood. Burnt flesh. Wet earth. The sharp metallic scent left behind after a magic explosion. All of it rushed in at once. The strategy screen that had sparkled in her mind cracked at that single smell.
“Major!”
A messenger ran toward her. His face was deathly pale, his pupils shaking.
“Central forces are retreating! But some troops from the first trench still haven’t made it out!”
Irina looked at the center of the canyon. Imperial soldiers were running. They were real people. A soldier carrying a comrade over his shoulder. A soldier whose helmet had come off. A soldier limping, covered in blood. Behind them, Alliance infantry were pushing in. In the game they had been red icons. But before her eyes, her own soldiers were still running. If she waited until they escaped, the enemy infantry might lose their density. If she fired now, some of them would be caught in it too.
Only then did Irina realize how lightly she had spoken those words inside the tent earlier.
They’ve already collapsed, haven’t they?
How casual that had been. That the trench might not be empty. That it wasn’t just ruined tiles. That there were still people inside the collapsed trench.
The messenger shouted, “Major!”
Irina couldn’t answer. The Magic Artillery Battalion was waiting for the signal. If she simply lowered her hand, they would fire. In game terms, this was nearly perfect timing. Enough enemy infantry had entered. The canyon’s bottleneck was blocked. Firing now would yield massive results. Too late and the enemy would disperse. Too early and the effect would weaken. She knew that. She knew it far too well.
But there were people before her eyes. They were running. To survive. To not die. To escape along the retreat route she had ordered.
“Not yet,” Irina barely managed to say.
The messenger stiffened. “Pardon?”
“Not yet.”
Her voice was cold. She tried hard to make it sound that way. Inside, her stomach was slowly twisting. Just a little longer. Just a little more and they would be packed tightly enough. She would fire when the enemy was denser. That way she would win. That way more would survive. That was what Irina thought. No, that was what she believed.
A few Imperial soldiers in the center looked back. They probably weren’t looking exactly at her. There was distance, smoke, and the firelight was flickering. But strangely, it felt like their gazes reached her. Were they eyes begging her not to fire? Eyes urging her to fire quickly? Eyes begging to be saved? She couldn’t tell.
Then the Alliance infantry pushed deeper. The center of the canyon began to fill with the enemy. Her gamer senses screamed. Now. It’s now.
Irina lowered her hand.
“Fire.”
The command was short. Far too short. The instant that single word fell, the three Magic Artillery pieces lit up simultaneously. Blue lines of magic tore through the night and fell into the center of the canyon. For a moment, the world exploded white. The roar tore at her ears. The ground shook. Heat slapped her face. Irina nearly closed her eyes by reflex. But she didn’t. It was an order she had given with excitement just moments ago. It was the result of moving according to strategy. So she thought she had to watch.
And she watched.
At the point where the shells landed, earth, stone, wooden barriers, and people all flew up at once. People. Real people flew up. In the game it had been an explosion effect. Massive enemy losses. Morale drop. Central breakthrough prevented. That was the scene where such text would appear. But in reality, arms flew off. Someone’s body bent in midair. A person on fire rolled across the mud.
It wasn’t only the Alliance forces. The Imperial soldiers who hadn’t escaped in time were swept up as well. The soldiers she had ordered to retreat. The people she had told to “clear the center.” Some of them had been too slow. And the moment Irina said “Fire,” they vanished along with the rest.
Her breath stopped. It was a success. Tactically, it was a perfect success. The Alliance’s central infantry had been shattered. The canyon’s entrance route was blocked by burning debris. Crossfire began from the northern machine gun positions. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Gunfire tore through the night. Remaining Alliance forces fell. The front line was stabilizing. It was exactly as the strategy dictated. Truly as the strategy dictated.
Yet joy did not come.
The excitement she had felt inside the tent moments ago suddenly flipped over in her stomach like rotten water. Irina stared blankly at the center of the canyon. There were still people moving in the firelight. She couldn’t tell if they were Imperial or Alliance. Someone belatedly realized their arm was gone and screamed. Someone opened their mouth but couldn’t make a sound. Someone lay face-down and reached out a hand. A hand clawing at empty air. A hand clutching mud. A hand stretching somewhere, begging to be saved.
Irina looked at those hands. And only then did she realize what she had been doing just moments ago.
She had been excited. That she had entered the game. That she had become a cheat character. That she could overturn the board with strategy knowledge. That she had obtained the cheat called Irina van Evergarden. Inside the tent, pointing at the map, she had practically been enjoying herself. She had felt satisfied watching Lieutenant Hartmann’s astonished face as he listened to the plan. She had been thrilled that the information she knew actually worked. She had thought she could survive in this world. She had thought she could become a hero.
The result was before her eyes. Torn people. Burning mud. The smell of blood. And her own soldiers who had been blown away alongside the enemy by her command.
“Major?”
The messenger’s voice sounded far away. Irina couldn’t answer. It felt like her throat was blocked. She couldn’t breathe. The head that had been spinning excitedly moments ago had stopped. No, she wished it would stop. But her head did not stop. Artillery ammunition remaining. Machine gun ammo. Southern ridge. Magic Cavalry. 80 reserves. Central remaining forces. 7th Company flares. The calculations kept turning. Regardless of the carnage before her eyes. That was what made it even more horrifying.
She was shocked. Her stomach was turning over, her fingertips were cold, and she felt like she would vomit at any moment. Yet her mind was already searching for the next order. Because the war would not stop. Because if she stopped, more would die.
“Major!” the messenger called again.
Irina barely managed to inhale. The smell of blood and gunpowder entered her lungs. Her stomach churned. This time she really almost vomited. But she couldn’t. There was no time for that.
“South…” Her voice cracked.
The messenger drew closer. “Yes?”
“Send a signal to the southern ridge.”
Irina tried to tear her gaze away from the center of the canyon. But her eyes kept being drawn back. Burning earth. Moving people. Screams. She clenched her teeth and spoke.
“Hold for three more minutes, then retreat. Pull them back to the northern auxiliary line. After drawing the Magic Cavalry deep in, fire the remaining artillery shell at the southern slope.”
“Yes!”
The messenger ran off. Irina gave the next order. Her mouth moved. Her head moved. The strategy still came to mind. But it was different from before. The lines on the map no longer looked like mere lines. Central forces: 120. Faces now appeared beneath that number. Reserves: 80. Footsteps and breathing now existed inside that number. Three Magic Artillery pieces. The explosion she had just witnessed now clung to that phrase.
Game knowledge was still useful. Terrifyingly useful. Using it would let her win. Using it would let her survive. Using it would let her save even more people. But now Irina had seen with her own eyes who died in the process. And that it happened because of her orders.
The battle continued for a long time. She didn’t remember exactly how long. Artillery shells exploded several more times. Machine guns scraped the night for what felt like forever. The Magic Cavalry breakthrough on the southern ridge was blocked once. The reserves retreated only after losing nearly half their number. The 7th Company’s remaining forces fired flares. Irina saw their position and sent support. Just like in the game. According to strategy. Efficiently.
But she no longer felt excited. Because every time she spoke an answer she knew, she now understood that the answer demanded someone’s blood.
By the time dawn arrived, Krasen Canyon had held. The 3rd Defense Sector had not fallen. The Western Front was maintained. A tactical victory. In the game, those words would have appeared in the center of the screen. Irina van Evergarden survived. Lieutenant Hartmann survived. Partial rescue of the 7th Company’s remaining forces. Western Front stability increased. Veteran bonus acquired. Probably messages like that would have followed.
But in the real dawn, no reward window appeared. Instead, smoke remained. Mud remained. Soldiers being carried away on stretchers remained. People wrapped in cloaks and dragged away because there weren’t enough stretchers remained. And corpses remained. Rows of corpses.
The surviving soldiers saluted Irina. With bloodstained faces. With exhausted eyes. Someone said, sobbing, “We survived thanks to you, Major.”
Irina couldn’t say anything. Did I save them? Did I really save them? Or did I simply shift the places where people would die? That question lodged itself in her mind.
Just a few hours earlier she had been excited. That she had become Irina van Evergarden. That she had become a cheat character inside the game. That she had obtained a cheat-like body and strategy knowledge. That she might be able to walk the war hero route. All those thoughts felt far too light in the face of the dawn’s smell of blood.
Irina hid her hands behind her back. Because they were trembling. Because she didn’t want the soldiers to see. Because she didn’t want them to know their commander was shaking. The body called Irina van Evergarden was strong. Truly strong. It knew how to hold a sword, it possessed a voice that could issue commands, and it could stand straight even while injured. The claim that it was a cheat character so broken it was called fraudulent was not wrong.
But the person who had entered that body had nearly collapsed after witnessing the result of the first order she had given.
That day, she learned something. Becoming a cheat character did not make war as easy as a game. Obtaining a cheat-like body did not make the smell of blood disappear. Knowing the strategy did not make the weight of commands any lighter.
She had entered the game. She had even become a character so strong she was called a cheat. And she had given her first order with excitement. As a result, she won the battle. She saved many people. She killed many people. She saw all of it with her own eyes.
From that day on, Irina could no longer think of Espera as a game.
But what was even more horrifying was the fact that she would still have to use strategy guides from now on. To survive. To save even more people. And to not die in this war under the name Irina van Evergarden.