Chapter 1
A funeral dirge echoed in the temple’s backyard.
The music didn’t last long, as if the few minutes were all the time permitted to mourn the dead.
Thud, a flower fell. Someone trampled on the freshly made grave.
It was a death destined to be forgotten. Or maybe it was better that way.
No one shed a tear for the grave’s owner.
Had it not been for the war, would someone have cried for her? Such hypothetical thoughts held no meaning amidst the countless lives that were snuffed out so meaninglessly.
If anyone had been left alive to mourn the end of the goddess-chosen hero, they would have been cut down by the enemy’s blade as they stood in her way on the battlefield.
The greatest strategist of the century given by the Blanchard family. The next Duke Blanchard. The key figure who led Etalon’s peaceful golden era. A hero personally chosen by the goddess.
Among the many titles she once held, only a brief epitaph remained on the hastily constructed gravestone: Failed Hero.
For a failed hero, what awaited was blatant hostility and criticism far beyond what was reasonable. As if the nation’s unpreventable disaster was entirely her fault.
The greater the expectation, the more severe the disappointment.
The people spat on her grave.
The legacy Mia Blanchard left behind was nothing short of pathetic.
***
Life is sometimes even less believable than a play or novel. Looking at the current situation, it certainly seemed that way.
When Mia opened her eyes, she was greeted by a pounding headache and the face of an angel.
The very fact that she had opened her eyes was surreal. Hadn’t she definitely died?
Her chest, which had been mangled beyond recognition just before death, was now completely intact without a single scar. Even if the goddess herself had descended, such a perfect healing wouldn’t have been possible.
She had certainly died. The strange sense of déjà vu she felt from seeing an angel moving about confirmed it.
“Are you finally awake?”
The angel smiled. It seemed he had noticed that Mia had regained consciousness. His once upright, austere expression softened. The gentle curve of his eyes created a completely different atmosphere.
In Mia’s muddled mind, only the words ‘angel’ and ‘light’ repeated themselves like a broken record.
Suddenly asking if she had come to her senses. Surrounded by unfamiliar places, strange situations, and a suspiciously kind young man, Mia was unable to find a fitting response.
This was an unusual experience for Mia Blanchard, who was no stranger to people muttering, “Even if you lost your head, that sharp tongue of yours would keep going.”
“……”
When Mia remained silent for a long time, the angel spoke again.
“I was quite worried since lady wouldn’t wake up. I tried healing you with divine power, but your wounds wouldn’t heal easily…”
And with that, Mia’s delusions came to an abrupt end.
An angel? As if. No being capable of making such aggravating remarks could be an angel.
Lady, he had called her! Lady!
Even in a society where knights were often treated as lesser than high-ranking officials or nobles, in the goddess’s empire, the title of “one personally chosen by the goddess” held great significance. And the honorific Sir could only be used for those blessed by the goddess, capable of wielding divine power, like the members of the Holy Corps.
To Mia, being addressed as Lady was an insult. It was no different from saying, “I don’t acknowledge the goddess’s choice of you.” Familiar as it was, it never failed to sting.
Mia turned over, as if protesting the treatment.
Ugh. A sharp pain seared through her abdomen, accompanied by a groan that escaped between her teeth. The moment she became conscious of it, the pain surged, growing more intense by the second. Mia’s face twisted in agony.
“Had I suffered this kind of injury recently…?”
Mia couldn’t recall. Could it have been his doing?
Suspicion filled her eyes as she scrutinized the man from head to toe.
Despite Mia’s probing gaze, the man remained unfazed. His large eyes blinked as if he had anticipated her wariness. His nonchalant smile, as if to say she could inspect him all she wanted, made Mia feel an odd sense of irritation.
“……”
Seeing that Mia still had no intention of speaking, the man spoke again, making a commendable effort to keep the conversation going.
“Etienne Rochefort, commander of the Empire’s 1st Holy Corps. You can rest assured, my identity is legitimate.”
The man gave a languid smile. But upon hearing his name, Mia couldn’t join him in that smile.
Rochefort?
At the familiar name, the blood drained from Mia’s face.
Four years of absence would make even that striking face easy to forget. Or perhaps it was her grogginess clouding her memory. Admittedly, she’d been using painkillers frequently due to the frequent injuries as of late. Painkillers often made her drowsy…
No matter what excuses she concocted for her absurd confusion, the reality before her eyes did not change.
The angel was none other than her former commander. Cold and arrogant, but undeniably a genius strategist with an impeccable record.
…The very same commander Mia Blanchard had personally eliminated.
How is he still alive…?
Her body reacted faster than her muddled mind could comprehend. Before she could even stop herself, Mia jerked backward with a groan. Considering the wound in her abdomen, it was an impressive effort.
The moment she changed positions, a sharp pain tore through her core. The unpleasant heat radiating from her waist suggested the wound might have reopened. Mia bit her lip, trying to stifle the gasp that almost escaped.
“What are you doing?”
Etienne asked, sounding startled.
“Why are you here?”
In that moment, only one thought dominated Mia’s mind:
That can’t be the real Rochefort.
“Calm down. If you keep moving like that, you’ll be bedridden for several more weeks.”
Indeed, Mia was struggling. It was only after hearing the command to calm down that she became aware of her own frantic movements.
As Etienne remained composed, Mia’s actions suddenly ceased.
…Perhaps. Really, perhaps. A third possibility that Mia had not yet considered flashed through her mind.
In truth, even if no one was impersonating Rochefort or if she hadn’t begun hallucinating, there was still a way to explain this situation. Though the thought seemed ludicrous.
She recalled a heretic who had been executed for tampering with time using Divine Power.
Mia let out a hollow laugh. It was none other than Mia herself who had instigated the man’s horrific punishment for promoting such absurd ideas.
But perhaps it wasn’t so absurd after all.
It was still a hard pill to swallow.
“Sir, are we still in the borderlands?”
Yet, after piecing together the information, there was only one conclusion to be drawn.
Not long after she was first chosen by the goddess and deployed to the border, she had been ambushed. She remembered receiving a piercing wound to her abdomen at that time.
…But had Rochefort personally tended to me back then, too?
No. Absolutely not. For that matter, Mia had only just learned that the cold-hearted man even knew how to heal others.
Watching Mia’s expression, Etienne gently pushed her back onto the bed. He seemed intent on deciphering her sudden change in demeanor after her earlier aggression.
“Yes. We’re holding the line at the border and assessing the situation. But why do you ask…?”
Mia had another question she wanted to ask more than anything. Had she truly traveled back in time? Of course, blurting such a thing out would only make her seem mad. So instead, she merely nodded in response to Rochefort’s words.
If she had indeed traveled back in time, and if that heretic’s words were true… Why in the world would Rochefort, of all people, be tending to his rival’s wounds? No matter how hard she tried to recall, she was certain he had not done so in her previous life.
“Yes. I just don’t understand this situation at all.”
“……”
“In fact, I still don’t know what happened while I was unconscious. I’d like to hear the details.”
After a brief silence, Etienne finally spoke.
“…It’s a long story. Let’s tend to your wounds first, and then I’ll explain.”
“You’re not just avoiding the subject, are you?”
The two locked eyes. Mia didn’t avert her gaze, and Etienne’s face remained filled with concern. What exactly he was worried about—whether it was being accused of collaborating with his rival or something else—Mia couldn’t tell.
Ignoring Mia’s snide remark, Etienne moved to a corner and opened a drawer. From it, he retrieved several medicinal herbs, bandages, and a few other items whose uses Mia couldn’t immediately discern, before returning to her bedside.
—
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