Chapter 57. If It Can Be a Comfort

"What's wrong, Anna?"

General Viktor greeted me in his usual neat and calm manner, just as always.

He was sitting at his desk, reading a document held in his left hand.

Yes, just like usual.

"..."

Just a few hours ago, he had commanded a battle that would go down in history and received praise from his superiors, officers, and soldiers.

For an ordinary person, it would be a situation where they couldn't help but feel good, to varying degrees.

Moreover, there's no reason to hide that feeling.

No one would question a victorious general being happy.

"If you've finished your task, you should rest now. There's no need to stay in my tent."

However, the General's expression was utterly indifferent.

More precisely, it didn't feel joyful at all.

Not just at the level of restraining emotions, but he looked like someone who wasn't happy at all.

To the point where that excessively calm appearance felt rather unnatural.

"..."

"...Hmm?"

I slowly approached the side of his desk.

"General Viktor."

"...Do you have business?"

"Have you finished your work, General?"

"I was preparing for the reorganization of the 1st Provisional Corps, but I'm almost done."

He, who had been saying he wasn't finished with his work yet,

"Ah, could you help me with some paperwork for a moment? I must have scratched myself while adjusting my armor, I found I was injured after the battle ended."

As if he had just remembered, he showed me his right hand, which he had been keeping under the desk, while speaking.

The tip of that thumb had a scab, making it feel like I could sense the stinging just by looking at it.

"You didn't treat it?"

"It's nothing. It's just annoying to get blood on the documents, so I can't hold a pen."

I was a bit flustered because my words came out sounding confrontational due to my surprise, but fortunately, the General didn't seem to mind much.

"...Hah. Please wait a moment. I'll bring some supplies."

Seeing the General shrug his shoulders, I sat down beside him, bringing disinfectant, ointment, and bandages.

"I'm going to rinse it. It might sting a bit."

"..."

I gently pulled his right hand and poured clean water to wash the wound.

"You said you scratched it, right?"

"I'm not sure. When the battle ended, I found blood was flowing somehow."

After washing and examining the wound up close, something strange caught my eye.

Usually, if you get a wound on your fingertip on the battlefield, it's mostly either the entire nail getting torn off after getting caught on something, or the tip being cut or scraped by sharp objects like armor or weapons.

The General's thumbnail is intact at the root, so it's not the former, but for the latter, the appearance of the nail looks awkward.

The latter type of wound usually has flesh cut off in a straight line along with it, and above all, this appearance of being torn in places doesn't look like an injury that would occur in a battle situation.

...If this is a bite mark as I suspect, it might be closer to a signal revealing the General's inner state.

"...It happens often, doesn't it?"

"That's right."

Instead of asking about this, I applied ointment and wrapped it thickly with bandages so others wouldn't see.

I didn't want to show this appearance to others.

"Thank you."

"I'm your adjutant. This is my job. What documents need to be written?"

"Ah, here. Please help me write this document."

After finishing the treatment and skimming through the contents of the document he handed me.

"..."

I was half certain that my guess was correct.

The document he was holding today was also a report tallying the casualties from the recent battle.

"The title of Deputy Commander isn't free. I've been tasked with coordinating the roles of the 10th Corps, 8th Corps, and 1st Provisional Corps until we enter Saint-Toire."

This was something I could know because I was almost always by his side as his adjutant.

Casualty count, merit evaluation, grasping subsequent supplies and support - the reasons vary each time, but after every battle, the General spends a long time reading documents detailing the casualties.

Initially, it was mostly documents tallying the casualties of both allies and enemies, and after about a year, he mainly read about the scale of allied losses or lists of casualties.

"The 10th Corps' losses are large, so General Gerhart seems to be worried too. Probably the 8th Corps and our 1st Provisional Corps, which suffered relatively fewer losses, will be assigned major tasks like escorting prisoners."

"Is that so."

The General showed no signs of agitation in his expression or tone.

However, for me who has observed the General for a long time, that wound now covered by bandages.

"There are many wounded, so we'll need people to transport them too. I'm thinking of using some of the carts left behind by the kingdom army."

The corner of his eye that twitches slightly every time he mentions losses.

It keeps bothering me.

...Come to think of it, the General has always been like this.

From what I've observed since being appointed as his adjutant, not a single battle has ever gone against his intentions.

Yet, he never showed any sign of happiness inside his tent.

Of course, he talks about how valuable and great the victory is in front of the soldiers.

But when he enters the tent, he just checks documents with an expressionless face like now.

"What does my adjutant think?"

Recently, what his inner thoughts might look like, which he didn't reveal even while drinking together.

What state the inside of the General, who outwardly seems the most perfect of anyone I've seen so far, might be in.

Whether this person who seems like a god on the battlefield has actually been festering inside from the beginning.

If so, whether it's alright to leave him like this, seemingly thoroughly hiding his pain.

Questions fill my mind.

"...Anna?"

"Huh. Yes, General."

"I'd like to hear your opinion."

"My opinion? Hmm..."

After brief consideration, I came to a conclusion.

If the result of that worry has manifested as achievements, that's a good thing, but if the General is struggling inside, I can't just let it pass.

It might be a bit of an uncomfortable topic for the General, but compared to this, things like how to transport the wounded are a bit lower in priority.

If it's an opinion suggested by the General, it's surely the best judgment considering the situation, so,

"General."

"...?"

Instead of expressing my opinion on his question.

"You were right, General. You have been until now, and you will be in the future."

I said a slightly different opinion.

"Soldiers who go to the battlefield know that death is always lurking nearby. However, many officers don't know this."

My thoughts about the General that I've had for a while.

"...Hmm?"

"They regard us merely as strength, as sharp tools. They persuade that sacrifice is natural and always glorious."

The General looked at me with a hardened expression.

"You're different from them, General. Under your command, we are treated as individual people, not just one of thousands of soldiers. Anyone who has been under your command would know this."

"..."

"The process is different each time, but the result was the same. Regardless of enemy casualties, our casualties were always surprisingly few."

Being someone who has been poor at expressing emotions since childhood.

I tried my best to maintain calmness so that the thoughts I and the soldiers usually hold could be conveyed well.

So that he could understand my sincerity.

"You might feel this is presumptuous, but I believe no general, no matter who comes, could match the results you've created, General Viktor."

The General listened to my story silently, without saying a word.

"We are soldiers. Although each person's reasons may be different, they all recognize the fact that death is always lurking. However, no one welcomes meaningless death."

"..."

"Without your command, General, we would have long since disappeared, becoming just a part of thousands or tens of thousands of casualties. Because you were here, we are now alive and breathing, enjoying the joy of victory. We have witnessed our sacrifices creating brilliant results."

I don't know how the General will take my words, but because it was something I really wanted to say, I tightly grasped my trembling hands.

"Myself and Alexandrov. The 5,000 soldiers who stepped forward to follow you are already prepared for death."

"Anna."

"Even if we all die, if it's your will, General, no one will resent you. No one will doubt you."

I continued speaking despite the General calling my name.

"Everyone is certain that dying under your command would be the most valuable and glorious. So please, General, I hope you would believe in yourself more. You are the best for us soldiers and officers."

"..."

After I finished speaking, the General, who had been bowing his head and thinking deeply.

"Anna."

"...!"

He stood up from his seat and approached me sitting in the chair.

Moving his arms as if hesitating a little, he bent down and lightly embraced me.

"General?"

The distance became close enough to hear his breathing.

Although I often saw him hugging others, it was the first time he had hugged me.

While it wasn't that I wasn't flustered, his embrace, which I was feeling for the first time, was warm as I had expected.

I carefully raised my arms and wrapped them around his back.

"Anna."

"I'm listening."

"...You, I hope you would stay by my side until the end."

"..."

He, who had embraced me, spoke to me in his usual gruff voice, but with a slight tremor.

My face felt hot.

The warmth enveloping my body, the firmness felt through the clothes, and the poignancy of the content contrasting with his gruff voice made my heart beat faster on its own.

"I-I'll try my best."

"...Thank you."

And so, the General and I embraced each other silently for several minutes.

---

A few days later.

The imperial army entered Saint-Toire majestically, dragging along the kingdom army prisoners.