Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: The Adjutant's Solace
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"What's wrong, Anna."
General Victor greeted me in his usual impeccably composed and calm manner.
He sat at his desk, reading the documents held in his left hand.
Yes, just as always.
"..."
Just a few hours ago, he had commanded a battle for the ages, earning the praise of his superiors, officers, and soldiers alike.
For any ordinary person, it was a situation that couldn't help but lift their spirits, regardless of the degree.
Moreover, there was no reason to hide that joy.
No one would question a victorious general celebrating his triumph.
"If you've finished your duties, go ahead and rest easy now. There's no need to stay in my tent."
Yet the general's expression was utterly impassive.
To be precise, there wasn't the slightest hint of pleasure.
It wasn't merely restraint—it was as if he truly felt no joy at all.
His excessive calm felt almost unnatural.
"..."
"...Hm?"
I slowly approached the side of his desk.
"General Victor."
"...Do you have business with me?"
"Have you finished all your work, General?"
"I was preparing the reorganization of the 1st Provisional Legion, and it's almost done."
He had just said his work wasn't finished yet, but then,
"Ah, could you help me with some paperwork for a moment? I must have scratched it while adjusting my armor—turns out I was injured after the battle ended."
As if it had just occurred to him, he lifted his right hand, which had been resting under the desk, and showed it to me.
A scab had formed at the tip of his thumb, stinging just to look at.
"Didn't you treat it?"
"It's nothing serious. I'm just annoyed about getting blood on the documents—I can't hold the pen properly."
My words came out sharper than intended in my flustered state, but fortunately, the general didn't seem to mind much.
"...Haa. Please wait a moment. I'll fetch the tools."
At his shrugging shoulders, I brought antiseptic tools, ointment, and bandages, then sat beside him.
"I'll rinse it. It might sting a bit."
"..."
I took his right hand, pulled it gently, and poured clean water over the wound to wash it.
"You said it was a scrape?"
"Not sure. By the time the battle ended, blood was flowing from it somehow."
After washing and examining it up close, something odd caught my eye.
Battlefield injuries to fingertips are usually either the whole nail torn off after catching on something, or the tip sliced or chipped by armor, weapons, or other sharp objects.
The general's thumbnail was intact at the root, ruling out the former, but it didn't quite match the latter either.
Those kinds of wounds are typically straight cuts taking flesh with them, and above all, this jagged, torn appearance didn't seem like something from combat.
...If my suspicion was right and this was a bite mark, it felt like a signal revealing the turmoil inside him.
"...It happens often, doesn't it."
"Yeah."
Instead of pressing the matter, I applied ointment and wrapped it thickly with bandages to hide it from others.
I didn't want anyone else seeing this.
"Thanks."
"Isn't that what an adjutant is for? What documents need to be written?"
"Ah, here. Help me with these."
After finishing the treatment, I skimmed the contents of the documents he handed me.
"..."
I was half-convinced my hunch was correct.
The papers he held today were, once again, casualty reports from the recent battle.
"The title of Deputy Commander isn't free. Until we enter Saint Touar, I'm coordinating the roles of the 10th Legion, 8th Legion, and our 1st Provisional Legion."
It was a fact I knew because, as his adjutant, I was almost always by his side.
Casualty counts, merit awards, follow-up supplies and support assessments—the reasons varied each time, but after every battle, the general would spend a long while poring over casualty reports.
At first, it was mostly overall tallies for both our forces and the enemy. After about a year, it shifted to mainly our side's losses and lists of the fallen.
"The 10th Legion took heavy losses, so General Gerhard seems troubled. Probably, the 8th Legion and our 1st Provisional with lighter casualties will handle key tasks like escorting prisoners."
"I see."
There was no flicker of emotion in his expression or tone.
But as someone who had watched him closely for so long, that bandaged wound now...
"With so many wounded, we'll need people to transport them too. Maybe we can make use of the carriages the kingdom army abandoned."
The faint twitch at the corner of his eye every time losses were mentioned...
It kept nagging at me.
...Come to think of it, the general had always been like this.
From the moment I was appointed his adjutant, every single battle had unfolded exactly as he intended, without fail.
Yet he had never once shown joy inside his tent.
Of course, in front of the soldiers, he would speak of how valuable and magnificent the victory was.
But once inside his tent, he would check the documents with that same blank expression, just like now.
"What do you think, Adjutant?"
Recently, even while drinking together, he hadn't revealed his true feelings—what might they look like?
What state was the inner world of this general, who seemed the most flawless of all I'd seen?
This god-like figure on the battlefield—could it be that inside, he'd been festering from the start?
If so, was it okay to leave him like this, hiding his pain so thoroughly?
Doubts filled my mind.
"...Anna?"
"Ah. Yes, General."
"I'd like to hear your opinion."
"My opinion? Hm..."
After a brief moment of thought, I reached a conclusion.
If the results of his inner struggles led to success, that would be fine—but if he was suffering inside, I couldn't just let it pass.
It might be a bit harsh on him, but compared to that, transport plans for the wounded took a back seat.
Whatever he proposed was surely the best judgment considering the situation, after all.
"General."
"...?"
Instead of answering his question,
"You were right, General. You always have been, and you always will be."
I offered a slightly different opinion.
"The soldiers who step onto the battlefield know that death is always lurking nearby. But many officers don't seem to."
My long-held thoughts about the general,
"...Hm?"
"They see us merely as muscle, sharp tools. They convince us sacrifice is inevitable, always glorious."
The general stared at me with a hardened expression.
"You're different, General. Under your command, we're not just one of thousands of faceless soldiers—we're treated as individuals. Anyone who's served under you knows that."
"..."
"The processes vary each time, but the outcomes are the same. Regardless of enemy casualties, our losses have always been astonishingly low."
I've always been awkward at showing emotions since childhood.
To convey what I and the soldiers truly felt, I tried my best to stay calm.
So he could understand my sincerity.
"You might find this presumptuous, but no general who comes after could match what you've achieved."
The general listened silently, without a word.
"We are soldiers. Our reasons may differ, but we all know death lurks nearby. Yet no one welcomes meaningless death."
"..."
"Without your command, we'd have been mere numbers among thousands or tens of thousands of casualties, gone long ago. Because of you, we're alive today, basking in the joy of victory. We've witnessed our sacrifices yield brilliant results."
I didn't know how he'd take my words, but they were what I had to say, so I gripped my trembling hands tight.
"Alexandrov, I, and the other five thousand who follow you have already resolved ourselves to death."
"Anna."
"Even if we all die, if it's your will, no one will resent you. No one will doubt you."
I kept speaking despite his call.
"Everyone is convinced that dying under your command is the most valuable, honorable way. So please, General—have a little more faith in yourself. To us soldiers and officers, you are the best."
"..."
As I finished, the general, who had bowed his head in deep thought,
"Anna."
"...!"
stood from his seat and approached me, still sitting in my chair.
He hesitated for a moment, arm twitching, then leaned down and pulled me into a light embrace.
"General?"
Our distance was so close I could hear his breath.
I'd seen him hug others often, but this was the first time he'd embraced me.
It flustered me, but his warmth, just as I'd imagined, was comforting.
I cautiously raised my arms and wrapped them around his back.
"Anna."
"I'm listening."
"...Please, stay by my side until the end."
"..."
He held me, his voice gruff as always but carrying a faint tremor.
My face burned.
The warmth enveloping me, the firmness felt through his clothes, and the earnest plea contrasting his blunt tone made my heart race on its own.
"I-I'll try."
"...Thank you."
And so, the general and I held each other silently for several minutes.
A few days later. The imperial army entered Saint Touar triumphantly, dragging kingdom army prisoners behind them.