Prologue: The War Hero Resigns
In a small office where the only sound was the scratch of a quill, the knight commander sat writing as if nothing were amiss—even while I stood before her shouting.
For a full week I had stormed into this office, pouring out protest and fury in equal measure, and still she refused to so much as acknowledge me. The woman currently blessing me with endless sighs and headaches was my sole direct superior: Orca, Knight Commander of the Alhaisen Kingdom’s armies.
The reason I had been stalking her like this for seven days was, in a way, nothing dramatic. I simply wanted to know why, after all those years spent on the front lines of a war that had dragged on forever, she was still leaving me abandoned on the battlefield.
A year had already passed since the war ended. My subordinates had long since received their victory rewards and honors; some had returned home, others had been promoted, living lives that could truly be called surpassing the master. Good for them… truly, good for them. I had taken raw recruits who knew nothing and forged them into the strongest unit imaginable, only for the brass to promote every last one and scatter them to the winds. But a promotion was still a promotion, wasn’t it? As their teacher and superior I was supposed to celebrate. I was supposed to be glad.
Even when that same treatment fell on me, I gritted my teeth and endured. Yet a full year after the fighting stopped, I received neither reward nor honor—only orders to remain on the front and pour my strength into post-war recovery instead of coming home. The war hero who once led an invincible unit had been reduced to overseeing battlefield cleanup, the sort of work reserved for deserter commanders and defeated generals. Was this truly just?
I might not be greedy, but this country had no right to treat me like this.
Scratch… scratch…
What on earth was Orca thinking as she sat there writing while I raged in front of her? Part of me wanted nothing more than to crack her on the skull with a knuckle. But do that now and she’d twist it into insulting a superior or insubordination and lock me away for good.
“Say something, will you? Why am I still—”
Thud!
She slammed the quill down hard enough to cut me off mid-sentence. Then, with those same bright, clear eyes as always, she looked up at me and let out a long sigh.
“Haa… Could you keep it down a little? I’m writing a transfer order as it is.”
“For real?!”
After leaving me to rot for an entire year, she was finally issuing a transfer. I wanted to wipe every last higher-up off the map, but I held myself in check. Even if I could take on a whole legion alone, if I slaughtered every noble in my homeland, what country would ever take me in? I wouldn’t take me either—I’d be too terrified.
So I dragged a chair over, sat down in front of her, and waited. I had no idea why writing one transfer order took so long, but in my current position silence was the wiser choice.
Another twenty minutes or so crawled by. At last she set the quill aside, rolled the parchment, and held it out to me.
“Can I read it?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
I snatched the order from Orca’s hand and unrolled it carefully. Where the hell were they sending me this time? I was ready to step back from the front and train the next generation. A soldier training camp or an officer academy would have been perfect.
Just before my eyes found the words, I caught Orca resting her chin on her hand and sighing at the desk. Still, hope fluttered in my chest; I smiled and unfurled the parchment with a flourish, like unrolling a roll of toilet paper.
What was written there, however, was anything but grand. Far from it—the contents made my stomach turn.
“Effective immediately, Esilly von Yggdrasil is reassigned to the logistics unit under the 8th Legion…”
Logistics under the 8th…? That wasn’t what I wanted at all. That unit handled supply for the entire knight order—the rear of the rear of the rear of the rear. What kind of garbage was this?
I looked up at the woman sitting across from me—Orca, Knight Commander.
“The war’s over, so they say they’re putting you in the rear.”
“…What is that supposed to mean?”
“Haa… The higher-ups are terrified of the power you hold, so they’re going to let you rot in the back lines. Still don’t get it?”
Terrified of me? Of the person who risked her life fighting for this country? Was it because I was an elf who hadn’t lived all that long? I simply could not wrap my head around the situation Orca was describing. I didn’t want the capital where the bigwigs sat, and I didn’t want the ruined battlefields either. All I had asked for was a training camp or an officer academy—something small, something simple—to raise the next generation.
“It takes effect today, so you leave immediately. Packed your things?”
“…And if I refuse?”
“Orders from above are absolute. Obey, or take off the uniform and walk. Esilly… just please let this pass quietly, all right?”
“What…?”
I had believed Orca was at least on my side. Even if the higher-ups had abandoned me for a year, I never thought she would abandon me too. Surely she had argued with them on my behalf… That was why, every night as I lay in bed, I had felt a twinge of guilt for showing up day after day to harass her in this office. Apparently that feeling had been mine alone. In Orca’s eyes there was no apology—only the quiet hope that the whole mess would blow over without further noise.
“Are you listening? You have to leave today.”
“……”
Without a word I opened the door and stepped outside. Through the creaking gap as it closed, Orca called my name, but I had neither duty, nor obligation, nor reason left to answer. The chest that had been full of expectation only moments ago now held nothing at all—only emptiness. The honor everyone else still possessed was gone. Pride was gone. What remained was hatred. Pure, undiluted hatred for this country and its knight order.
Twenty years had already passed since I was reborn into this world. At first I had been thoroughly rattled to find myself born a woman instead of a man. Childhood memories were almost nonexistent, but around the age of five every recollection of my previous life came flooding back. And it was around then that I gained an absurd ability—one of those classic isekai perks. Simple, clear, and completely outside every existing magic system: the power to recover mana infinitely. Not infinite mana itself, but infinite recovery, so there were limits… yet used properly it was as good as infinite in practice.
With that ability I had erased an entire enemy legion during the war—roughly fifty thousand souls wiped from existence in an instant. It was no exaggeration to say that our outnumbered kingdom won because of it. Hell, it was simpler just to admit we won thanks to me. After the fighting ended, people throughout the capital shouted my name and celebrated victory. The enemy nation had declared total annihilation when they invaded—vowed to burn every living thing—so the triumph had been hard-won and precious. Yet now the leadership claimed to fear me and wanted to bury me in a rear-echelon unit. Logistics, of all things. If they had simply given me an honorable discharge I might have accepted it.
“Those bastards think they can dump me in a rear unit? Fine. I’ll quit myself.”
Back at the barracks I wrote out a resignation letter in pure rage. Then I liquidated every asset I owned in the kingdom, converted it all to cash, and stored it safely inside my Inventory. If they refused to treat me properly, I would simply leave. The moment they handed me this kind of treatment, dreams and hope became luxuries I could no longer afford.
Still… one last stop. One final visit to knight order headquarters.
“Esilly unnie! Welcome!”
“Esilly! Fresh fish just came in—take one before you go!”
“Apples too!”
The moment the capital folk spotted me they broke into cheers. I had lived here before crawling into the war, so I knew plenty of people. Every one of them was warm. None of them feared me.
“It’s been a while. You’ve all been well?”
“Of course! How could we not be, when Esilly protected the country?”
“If you hadn’t opened the supply routes for us, we’d have starved to death!”
“Right, there was that.”
There had been a time when the enemy tried to choke the capital by strangling every distribution route. I had sprinted there in a single day and smashed them flat.
“I’m glad.”
“Oh, no need to say it twice! But… heading somewhere? Headquarters?”
The fishmonger auntie and the fruit-seller uncle beamed at me, eyes lingering on my uniform. When they realized the clothes hadn’t changed one bit from before, a flicker of confusion crossed their faces. Well, of course. I had never been promoted. If they had simply given me that one promotion, the resignation letter sitting in my breast pocket would never have existed. Bastards.
“Yes. I received a transfer order, so I’m reporting to headquarters first.”
“Is that so…? Then we won’t see you around the capital anymore?”
“What a shame. A real shame.”
We talked a little longer after that. It was a relief to see the people of the capital living so comfortably, so happily, as if the war had never touched them. Yeah… that was why I had joined the knight order in the first place. If I hadn’t acted, those smiles would have vanished along with everything else.
“I’d better be going.”
“Oh my stars! Look at me, blocking the hero on her way to headquarters!”
Hero…
The single word filled my mouth with a bitterness worse than chewing a raw lemon. Was I really a hero?
A short walk through the capital brought me to knight order headquarters. The pure-white building was meant to symbolize the order’s integrity. Whether it actually was clean, I had my doubts. Were the higher-ups truly running things with clean hands? From where I stood, not a chance. But that wasn’t the issue right now.
The issue was that I had been standing on the first floor for some time, announcing myself and knocking, and no one would open the door. Apparently they didn’t want me setting foot inside.
“Haa… Of course not. What was I even hoping for, coming all the way here?”
They had issued the transfer order themselves. Wasn’t it basic courtesy to accept the report of the person leaving under that order? I didn’t know anymore. I just didn’t know.
I pulled the transfer order and the resignation letter from my pocket. The resignation was neatly folded inside an envelope; the transfer order was already so crumpled its original shape was barely recognizable. If I handed this over at the new post they would treat me like a lunatic. Not that I had any intention of handing it over.
I gripped the crumpled parchment in both hands. Then, without a shred of regret, I tore it cleanly in half.
Riiip.
Was that the sound of the transfer order tearing… or the sound of every year of service and every scrap of patriotism I had ever poured into this place?
I kept going until the paper was shredded beyond any hope of recognition.
“Kyaaaak! Ptooey! Filthy bastards!”
I stomped the pieces underfoot and spat for good measure. With that, this nation was no longer my homeland. From now on I would travel—live a new life. First step: get out of the country.
“Almost forgot… Due to the leadership being complete shit and treating me like a disposable tool, I hereby apply for discharge. Kindly approve it… you fucking bastards.”
I set the resignation letter neatly in front of the door, spat on the door itself for good measure, and turned my back.
Thanks for nothing!
I won’t set foot near the capital again, so rest easy!