"Sniff… hic…"
The sound of quiet sobbing pulled me out of my sleep.
Annoyed, I turned my head to find a girl in uniform with no rank insignia—a recruit.
Her name was Freen, I think. I met her just yesterday, after getting tossed into the military police detention center.
Judging by her light brown hair and dark eyes, she was probably from the southern provinces.
Since we were from the same region, we'd exchanged a few words—but now, she was stuck to me like glue. Just sitting next to her was exhausting.
I thought about ignoring her, but she'd probably keep crying, and I didn't want the noise. So I opened my mouth.
"…A soldier of the Empire shouldn't shed tears so easily."
At my voice, Freen froze and quickly stifled her sniffles.
"I-I'm sorry! I have no excuse! I just started thinking about my father back home…"
"Your father? Is he sick?"
"No, not at all… He was proud of me for joining the Imperial Army, but now I'm here—stuck in detention before even finishing training. I just feel pathetic."
"…Did you just say 'sir' in the middle of your sentence?"
When I pointed it out, Freen flinched.
"Ah—S-sorry, sir! I'll fix that!"
Hopeless.
I gave her a cold look and turned away.
"You said you were sent here because you refused to fire a gun for religious reasons, right?"
"Yes. I applied as a medic, so…"
"Even medics need to shoot. What'll you do if an enemy tries to kill the soldier you're treating? Just let them die?"
Freen fell silent. Or rather, she couldn't answer.
"This isn't a kid's game. If you just want to play doctor, go teach kindergarten. The battlefield's not the place."
Her head drooped. She looked completely crushed.
I sighed and added, "Still, I respect your intentions. Women aren't even drafted, so volunteering to save lives takes real conviction."
"…Thank you."
A faint smile crossed her face as she sat up straighter.
"Your words gave me strength. I see now how childish I've been. For my father's honor as a priest, I'll do better if I'm allowed back in training."
She said "sir" again, but I let it go.
It sounded like a habit, and I wasn't her superior anyway.
So her father was a priest, and that's why she hesitated to touch a gun?
It sort of made sense… or did it?
Wait a second.
A priest's daughter?
From the southern provinces?
Reprimanded during training?
That sounded way too familiar.
Sweat formed on my brow as I looked at her.
"…Recruit. What's your full name?"
"Huh? Oh—Freen. Freen Remiliart."
The moment I heard her name, a chill ran down my spine.
Freen Remiliart. The so-called Saint of the Empire.
A legendary support unit whose chanted magic could buff an entire battlefield, turning soldiers into monsters.
Whenever she showed up in the game, I'd order an immediate retreat—unless I had overwhelming numbers.
Meeting someone like her in a detention cell was shocking.
But honestly… it had nothing to do with me.
Not like it matters. I'm getting discharged anyway.
Once I left the Empire, I'd never see her again.
So, whatever.
"That's a pretty name."
I gave her a casual compliment, and Freen blushed shyly.
Judging from that reaction, she clearly didn't have much experience with men.
What was she doing here, wasting her youth on military service?
Then again, if I hadn't regained my past-life memories, I'd probably have thought enlisting was a noble cause too.
"Second Lieutenant Daniel Steiner?"
A sergeant appeared at the cell door, calling my name.
I raised my hand, and after checking the list, he unlocked the door.
"You're being released. Come with me."
It was time.
They must've reviewed the situation and decided to move forward with a court-martial.
Freen, confused, looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.
"You're leaving already? It was an honor talking with you, sir."
I nodded, forcing back a grin, and followed the sergeant out.
We passed through the military police offices and stepped outside, where Captain Philip Bender stood waiting—with a fancy-looking box in his hands.
"Ah, there you are."
Philip greeted me with a warm smile.
…That was already suspicious.
I saluted. He returned it with casual ease, then stepped closer.
"I wanted to get you out earlier, but paperwork took time. You know how it is—you've worked in General Staff."
I did. The military loved bureaucracy.
Still, something about what he said didn't sit right.
He wanted to get me out sooner?
Before I could ask, Philip handed me the box.
"This is a reward for your service, Second Lieutenant Daniel Steiner—or should I say… First Lieutenant now."
"…What?"
I slowly opened the box.
Inside were two diamond insignias and rank epaulets for a First Lieutenant.
I looked up at Philip, who beamed proudly.
"Your judgment was right. Major Karl Heinrich really was a spy for the Allied Nations. Because of that, upper command decided to skip the usual review and grant you a field promotion."
"…A field promotion? Me?"
"Yes. The Empire rewards merit. Also, since the Operations Officer post is temporarily empty, you're being appointed as the acting Operations Officer."
This had to be a joke.
I punched my superior officer… and he turned out to be a traitor?
And now I was being promoted?
Absolutely ridiculous.
"At this rate, you might outrank me someday. Congrats!"
Philip's cheerful tone confirmed it: this wasn't a dream—it was a nightmare.
All I could do was force a smile, shake his hand, and say, "Glory to the Empire."
I returned to the Imperial General Staff after using the one-week leave I got as a reward.
The moment I walked into the Operations Office, the staff who had been chatting turned to look at me.
And then, one by one, they gathered around, all smiles.
"Lieutenant Daniel? The hero himself!"
"Even if he was a spy, it must've taken serious guts to strike your commanding officer. That was pure courage!"
"Two commendations in a row? You're a rising star. Rumor is your name's been coming up in high-level meetings."
I didn't do any of that for glory, dammit.
My insides were twisting in knots, but they just kept smiling, completely unaware.
"Please. Enough praise. I was just doing my duty to the Empire."
I gave a humble smile, swallowing my true feelings.
After enduring what felt like an eternity of pleasantries, I finally reached my desk—the one that used to belong to Major Karl Heinrich.
It had been cleaned spotless. No personal belongings remained.
Just a few documents, a telephone, and a war map.
But the most striking thing was the nameplate.
[Acting Operations Officer / First Lieutenant Daniel Steiner]
Even as a temporary appointment, naming a first lieutenant as an acting Operations Officer was borderline absurd.
That position was prestigious—usually held by majors or colonels with their own private offices.
This could only mean one thing: upper command now saw me as a top-tier asset.
A fast-track promotion just three months after commissioning, followed by a high-ranking staff role?
I wasn't just elite. I was the elite. My career path wasn't just solid—it was practically carved in gold.
Which meant…
My path to a dishonorable discharge had gotten even steeper.
"..."
As birds chirped outside the open window, I sat down and rubbed my temples.
Why the hell is this happening to me…?
I was seriously about to lose my mind.