I Want to Become a Great General
Theodor Holy Empire. Crown Prince Ergon Magnus Theodor. And Zigrinde von Levanfalt, known as the Steel Lorelei.
Just those names—the backdrop of the novel, the male and female leads—were enough to make me realize I'd been possessed into a romance fantasy.
Romance fantasy. Yeah, the title was definitely something like 'I Will Protect Your Empire.' Among all those romance fantasies that treated settings and historical accuracy like a feather duster, this one was at least considered a cut above. That's why I remembered the name. But the heroine was such a walking disaster—extreme aestheticism mixed with girl crush vibes and a laundry list of nuisances—that I ended up dropping it.
'Kailun von Valtenstein? What kind of bone I'd possessed into is this? Just a minor character whose name gets tossed out once? It's a romance fantasy disguised as a war story, so tons of names pop up. Probably one of the countless extras assigned to the heroine or hero's unit.'
Kailun von Valtenstein. That's me, the third son of the Valtenstein count family I'd possessed into.
A mediocre rural territory. A mediocre family blessing passed down by bloodline. The family head and all his kids were Commoner Class. The Valtenstein family was the epitome of averageness, barely scraping by on the bare minimum.
My father was an old man sidelined from politics. The eldest was a dim-witted, sickly puppet. The second was a ruthless, greedy moneylender.
And the third son—
"Enlist in the Imperial Army. For our family."
"Got it. Since my brothers are all duds... When do I head to basic training?"
"Your enlistment date is tomorrow. If you leave now, you'll make it in time."
"...This guy's actually insane."
In the noble society of the Holy Empire, there was an unwritten rule: voluntarily send your sons to serve in the Imperial Army. It was a way to prove loyalty to the emperor and the Theodor imperial family by sending blood kin as officer candidates—and hostages.
Even a third-rate house like Valtenstein was still Holy Empire nobility. They had to put at least one son in the army.
The firstborn was a weakling who'd get sent back from training in half a day. The second was an antisocial materialist who worshipped money above all.
It said it all about how thoroughly the Valtenstein family's child-rearing had gone to shit—like a vineyard trampled by hooves.
That's why the count had held off on the enlistment notice until his third son came of age.
"I've arranged a carriage. Hans will guide you."
"If I get discharged safely from the Imperial Army... will you name me heir instead of my brothers? I'm enlisting because of those deadweights. Honestly, I think I'm qualified to inherit the family and territory."
"The family and territory go to the eldest by principle. Skipping both the first and second to pick the third would make every noble in the Holy Empire mock us."
"They're already laughing at us for having two draft dodgers..."
A stubborn traditionalist lording over a backwater village. That was the current Count von Valtenstein, my father in this life.
Heir to the count family? I never even wanted a shitty rural dump like that.
I had zero intention of living like the Valtenstein Commoners, content as frogs in a well.
Even if I was stuck as an extra, I was still a possessor in a romance fantasy. Even without aiming for the hero's role, it was only natural to chase fame and fortune as one.
Enlist in the Imperial Army. Succeed as a noble-born officer.
Throughout history, the way lowborn nobodies overcame social inequality was by becoming war heroes.
Plus, the Theodor Holy Empire had just declared war on the southern Hanzerbalt City Union, so it was a prime chance to shine on the battlefield.
'Three years should be more than enough, right? Even a temple dog recites poetry after three years... And I'm not a dog bastard, I'm human. A brutal three years on the front lines should open the fast track to riches.'
Let the Valtenstein Commoners stay frogs in their well forever.
I was a possessor in a romance fantasy.
A cheat ability awakening in a life-or-death crisis. Or meeting a hidden master with sealed techniques lurking in seclusion.
The idea that possessors don't get cheats would be a betrayal on the level of thinking she was a pure heroine only to find out it's a guy in drag.
With that cocky certainty, I enlisted as a noble-born officer candidate in place of my brothers.
8 years.
I rolled in the trenches for a full goddamn 8 years.
Fuck. Three years? Bullshit.
Nearly three times that.
Cheat? Nothing like that existed.
It was delusional for a third-rate noble churning out Commoners to even dream it.
Woof woof! Arf arf arf!
I apologize for scorning you, temple dog brother.
The northern Eisenreich Colonial Empire. The southern Hanzerbalt City Union. The eastern Deadwater Pirate Alliance.
The Theodor Holy Empire was a war maniac beyond imagination.
They declared war and called truces over and over with every bordering power, spilling blood and death.
It wasn't just lives they took. Youth and vigor too, mercilessly.
A fresh seventeen-year-old count's son from the Valtenstein family had fermented into a twenty-five-year-old uncle on the battlefield.
"We won! They've surrendered!"
"Victory for the great Holy Empire!"
"Now I can go home to my foxy wife and bunny kids!"
After two years of back-and-forth, the Hanzerbalt City Union had declared conditional surrender.
The frontline soldiers, hearing the news, thrust their spears and swords skyward, howling in triumph.
Going home. That was one thing.
But every knight and soldier dreamed of promotions and rewards.
The Holy Empire troops who'd seized Hammerfall Fortress, the key stronghold of the Hanzerbalt City Union, were none other than our Valtenstein unit.
Thanks to ending the siege that had dragged on for over half a year, the City Union had no choice but to wave the white flag and abandon the war.
We'd put the finishing blow on a grueling war of attrition.
Great general. Didn't I deserve that title now?
After rolling like a dog across countless fronts for eight years.
"Sir Valtenstein, won't you be appointed to the Yellow Path 12 Palaces that guard the Holy Empire? The Magal Palace fell on the colonial empire front, with only 10 seats left... The capital's top brass see you as the prime candidate for the 12 Palaces."
"Magal Palace fell? Next we'll get called to the colonial front."
Yellow Path 12 Palaces. The twelve monsters representing the Holy Empire.
Who the hell beat Magal Palace?
Having witnessed those monsters' prowess on the front myself, I couldn't believe one of the 12 Palaces had lost.
The aggressively expansionist Eisenreich Colonial Empire was invading the Holy Empire and countless other powers, spreading death and suffering like a plague.
They'd use any means for conquest—true to mad war maniacs.
Judging solely by merit, ignoring birth and blood? Fitting for a meritocracy crawling with savage warmongers.
"Valtenstein, you've racked up an impressive record. His Majesty the Emperor and the ministers in the capital were overjoyed to hear of your feats."
"You're too kind, Steel Lorelei."
War heroes who gave their all on the battlefield naturally got their rewards.
Proving it, a stunning beauty arrived as messenger.
Golden hair shining like pure gold. Amethyst eyes evoking precious gems. And in her crisply fitted Holy Empire uniform, the dazzling blonde drew every gaze from us dirt-caked soldiers.
Plenty of knights stared at the peerless beauty in a trance.
I get it. Of course she'd be beautiful.
Steel Lorelei. Zigrinde von Levanfalt.
The heroine of the romance fantasy I'd possessed into.
Never thought I'd meet the heroine like this.
My shoulders lifted with pride—my efforts hadn't been in vain.
"I appoint Sir Valtenstein as my staff officer. Your unit will be led by Young Master Sturts von Baldemar in your stead. I hear Hammerfall Fortress isn't fully pacified yet. Your successor, Young Master Sturts, will handle stabilizing it."
"...Pardon?"
Her voice was endlessly polite and gentle.
But it couldn't fool instincts honed by battles beyond count.
Rewards? No—this was a scheme to snatch my merits.
By assigning the feat of capturing the vital Hammerfall Fortress—which forced the Hanzerbalt surrender—to the sub-male-lead Sturts von Baldemar.
Just like in the original story. Fucking bitch.
They say the haves just keep winning.
A countship was in the bag. I'd been promised new territory conquered by the Holy Empire.
But with the heroine's arrival, an ominous feeling began to creep up.