I crossed the parade ground. Voices from soldiers who were working drifted over.
"Heard the news? About the new company commander who just got assigned to us."
"Oh, that lady? Name's Seraphina von Reinhardt, I think. She's from nobility, they say."
"Noble or not, word is she's drop-dead gorgeous. Pretty face, and that figure... damn."
One guy swallowed hard, leering openly. The others chimed in like they'd been waiting for it.
"Hey, she's still a captain though—don't forget the rank. They say she's the real deal in combat. Rumor has it she wiped out an orc squad single-handedly on the northern front last time."
"Face of an angel, deeds of a demon. Women like that get wild at night... you know?"
"You're insane. How many lives you got? Her nickname's 'Ice Witch.' Cross her wrong, and she'll snap you in half."
"Still... wouldn't you want to hold her once? That icy woman all flushed and undone—just imagining it..."
Their sleazy banter grated on my ears. I pretended not to hear and kept walking.
Captain Seraphina von Reinhardt.
I'd heard the rumors too. She'd been fast-tracked into the vacancy left by our previous company commander, who died in action. Her skill was legendary, matched only by her icy demeanor and goddess-like beauty. The troops had been buzzing about her even before she arrived.
'Ice Witch, huh...'
The nickname came from her ruthless battlefield prowess—and from how she kept every man at arm's length with frosty indifference. Countless noble sons and officers had tried their luck, only to slink away after glacial rejections.
Soon, I stood before the company command post. The guard at the entrance recognized me and snapped a stiff salute. I nodded curtly in return and stepped inside.
The interior was spartan—far emptier than I'd expected. Just a desk, two chairs, and a massive operations map pinned to one wall.
All traces of the previous occupant erased, ready for its new master.
And at the center of that space stood a woman, her back to me.
Silver hair like fresh snowfall cascaded past her shoulders. Her tailored officer's combat uniform hugged her slender waist and full hips without mercy.
Even though I'd approached quietly, muting my boot steps, she turned as if she'd sensed me the moment I entered.
Her lips parted. An icy, crystalline voice rang out.
"Lieutenant Max Jaeger."
My breath caught.
The soldiers hadn't exaggerated. Her skin was alabaster pale, her nose sculpted perfection, her lips a vivid red.
But what seized my gaze were those jewel-like blue eyes, gleaming cold and unyielding.
"Lieutenant Max Jaeger reporting to the company commander! Loyalty!"
I straightened and saluted sharply. She acknowledged it without so much as a blink.
"...Pleased to meet you. Captain Seraphina von Reinhardt."
Her eyes scanned me from head to boot. But I didn't shrink. Couldn't, really.
My skill Resilient Mind was steadying every emotion, flattening them smooth.
'Status Analysis.'
I activated the skill silently, holding position.
⚔ STATUS ⚔📛 Name: Seraphina von Reinhardt🧬 Race: Human🏛 Affiliation: Imperial Army 7th Infantry Regiment🎖 Rank: Captain📊 Status: Evaluating the newly assigned unit, coldly observing the subordinate before her, suppressed fatigue buried deep within
'...Deep within? ...Suppressed fatigue?'
Unexpected. She looked flawless on the surface, but something simmered underneath? Not info I needed right now, though.
"At ease. Sit."
I took the seat without hesitation.
Captain Seraphina lifted a file from the desk. My name and rank stared back from the cover.
"I've read your report, Lieutenant Jaeger. Promoted after just six months in service... impressive."
"Too kind, Captain."
I kept my tone even.
"Not kindness, Lieutenant. Confirmation of facts."
She set the file down and continued.
"The previous company commander was incompetent. Thanks to him, our company became the regiment's biggest headache. Discipline slackened, casualties highest."
Her blue eyes pierced straight through me.
"I'm turning this company into an elite unit. For that, I need your abilities."
"Anything I can do, consider it done."
No hesitation.
"Good."
She nodded curtly, pleased.
"The last bombardment took the previous commander—and several officers. Including the 3rd Platoon Leader. You're aware."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm assigning that role to you."
I tensed slightly. Sure enough, she elaborated.
"3rd Platoon has the worst issues. Veterans grown lazy, recruits terrified. Starting tomorrow, double the training intensity. If there's complaint or insubordination, you have authority for summary judgment. But I'll be watching if you can whip them into shape."
"Understood."
"Dismissed. I expect results tomorrow."
"Loyalty!"
I stood, saluted, and left the post. Only when the creaking wooden door shut behind me did I exhale fully.
'No ordinary officer.'
Even that brief encounter showed it. Seraphina von Reinhardt wasn't just some noble-born captain.
She knew the company's problems inside out, had concrete plans and iron will to fix them. Arriving early, calling me in personally—she meant business.
'Strong-willed superiors mean exhausted subordinates.'
But flip it: more chances for us to shine. Maybe time to put my skills to real use.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The next morning, I headed to the 3rd Platoon barracks area. Morning roll call had just ended, but the vibe was even slacker than I'd feared.
Most lounged in clusters, smoking or sprawling in the shade without even polished boots, chattering away. Hell, one group had a full gambling setup in plain sight.
'...This is why they're the headache.'
Not one proper salute as I appeared. They glanced over, then back to their gossip. How useless was the last platoon leader?
At the center loomed a hulking sergeant. Tattooed up—black ink bulging on his forearms. Top buttons of his uniform undone, way against regs.
The troops orbited him like he ruled the roost.
'He's the cancer here.'
I quietly triggered the skill.
⚙ STATUS ANALYSIS ACTIVATED ⚙Sergeant Gunter⚔ STATUS ⚔📛 Name: Gunter🧬 Race: Human🏛 Affiliation: Imperial Army 7th Infantry Regiment🎖 Rank: Sergeant📊 Status: Testing and mocking the new platoon leader, overconfident in his influence, slight hangover from last night's binge
'Overconfident... and hungover.'
As I approached slowly, one soldier finally spotted me and half-stood reluctantly.
"Hey, new platoon leader's here."
Gunter turned. Still sprawled, he eyed me lazily up and down.
"Not bad-looking. Think you can hang with trash like us?"
Laughter erupted around him. I walked straight to him, silent.
"On your feet, Sergeant."
His brow twitched at my voice. He rose sluggishly—a giant, easily two meters.
"Name?"
"Sergeant Gunter, sir. Second Lieutenant... no, Lieutenant, sir."
He faked the rank mix-up on purpose. Obvious provocation.
"Uniform violation. Button up."
"...What was that?"
Irritation twisted his face openly. The snickers cut off.
"Five seconds. 5, 4, 3..."
I counted down. His expression grew uglier with each number. Intimidating enough to scare most.
⚙ SKILL: RESILIENT MIND ACTIVE ⚙Resistance to all fear and confusion states greatly increased.
With Resilient Mind, his intimidation washed right off. Just a clownish sergeant barking.
"You green little shit...!"
My count hit one, and his patience snapped. He lunged, grabbing for my collar.
But sluggish. Hungover slop mixed with arrogance—full of openings.
I shot my right arm out without pause. Target: his nape.
"Gurkk!"
A pig-like squeal burst out. The two-meter brute crumpled limply. I seized his hair and slammed his face into the dirt.
"I don't repeat orders, Sergeant."
I whispered it in his ear, then stood and surveyed the platoon. Their smirks were gone.
"Word is, 3rd Platoon is the regiment's dump. As of today, that ends."
Soldiers flinched and averted eyes wherever I looked.
"Company commander's orders. Training intensity doubles starting now. Complaints? Speak now. I'll transfer you quietly."
Silence.
"Good. First order: Full kit in ten minutes, assemble on the parade ground. One second late, brig time."