Reincarnated: Vive La France-Chapter 41: "Not in the Army but in the men who commanded it."

Moreau felt his breath hitch for a second, his body instinctively tensing.

A Lieutenant General had been waiting to meet him?

Not just any officer, but one of the highest-ranking figures in the French military.

Why?

His mind raced with possibilities, but his expression remained controlled as he stood before General Delon.

The older man's gaze remained locked onto him, unreadable.

Then, with a slow, knowing smirk, the general spoke again.

"I've heard things about you, Capitaine."

Moreau didn't flinch.

"And I've also heard that you've been making quite a few people nervous."

Moreau swallowed.

The general's smirk widened.

"Enough that some in Paris are already putting you and De Gaulle in the same category."

De Gaulle.

The man whose ideas would one day lead to the future of warfare.

And now, here he was once again being compared to him.

He forced himself to respond carefully.

"That is not my intention, sir."

The general chuckled.

"Oh, I know. But intentions hardly matter once the perception is set. Tell me, Capitaine..."

His eyes hardened slightly.

"What do you think? Of all this? Of your own actions?"

Moreau's lips pressed into a firm line.

He chose his words carefully.

"I believe, sir, that an army is at its strongest when it has relative independence in strategic thinking. Regardless of its origin, when it allows room for adaptation and innovation, it gives rise to a frightening efficiency unmatched by others."

The room fell into brief silence.

Then, to Moreau's surprise

The general laughed.

It wasn't forced.

It wasn't mocking.

It was genuine amusement, mixed with something else.

Something almost like… approval.

"Many would disagree with you, Capitaine."

The general's tone was still light, but there was something sharp hidden beneath it.

"Some might even want you court-martialed for such ideas."

Moreau felt his gut tighten slightly.

But before he could reply

The general's smirk returned.

"But many others? They might just agree with you."

Moreau kept his face blank, but his mind was spinning.

Was this a warning?

A test?

Or something else entirely?

Delon studied him for a second longer before his expression shifted, becoming more serious.

"Tell me about the situation."

Moreau took a steady breath.

Then, in a crisp, official tone, he laid out the full chain of events from the moment his patrol had been sent to investigate suspicious activity, to the discovery of missing French troops, to the bloodstained battlefield, the betrayal, and the final clash against the hidden enemy forces.

Every detail.

Every decision.

Every loss.

By the time he finished, the room was silent.

The general's face was unreadable, but his fingers tapped lightly on the wooden desk.

Then, Delon sighed.

"You must be very angry about what happened."

Moreau said nothing.

Because if he did, he wasn't sure he could contain the absolute fury still boiling inside him.

The general exhaled again, leaning back in his chair.

"It's not your fault, Capitaine."

His voice was quieter now.

"When the government is weak, and when an army stagnates, filth is born."

His gaze darkened.

"And that filth destroys, corrupts, and spreads chaos."

Moreau clenched his fists at his sides.

"And now, we have been betrayed by our own people."

There was a bitter, almost pained edge to the general's voice.

Like a man who had seen it happen one too many times.

Moreau swallowed the lump in his throat, the raw anger mixing with something else something that made him feel sick.

Then, suddenly

The general's tone turned ice cold.

"Tell me, Capitaine."

His eyes locked onto Moreau with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Have you lost trust in the army?"

The words hung in the air like a blade pressed against Moreau's throat.

For the first time since entering the room, he hesitated.

Not in the army.

But in the men who commanded it.

He knew that was the truth.

He just didn't know if he was ready to say it.

And yet, in the end

He did.

His voice was firm, but low.

"Not in the army, sir."

A pause.

Then, Moreau's jaw tightened.

"But in the people who command it."

The silence was absolute.

For a long, suffocating moment, no one spoke.

Then, to Moreau's absolute shock

Delon burst into laughter.

Not a chuckle.

Not amusement.

A full, unrestrained, deep-throated laugh.

Moreau felt his spine stiffen.

What the hell was happening?

The general finally wiped his mouth, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Good answer, Capitaine."

Then, his amusement faded, replaced with something more serious.

His tone dropped to something darker.

"But I would suggest that you never say that to anyone else."

His smirk returned, but this time, it was sharp.

"Because many before you have disappeared for saying far less."

Moreau exhaled slowly.

Message received.

Then, the general stood.

For the first time since the meeting started, Delon looked at him not as an officer, not as a subordinate, but as something else.

Something close to an equal.

He placed a hand behind his back, his expression unreadable once again.

"I apologize for the lives lost, Capitaine."

Moreau felt a muscle twitch in his jaw, but he said nothing.

Because there was nothing to say.

They were gone.

And nothing would bring them back.

The general continued.

"But you will be pleased to know that in a few days, all of the rats will be caught."

His voice was calm, but lethal.

"And they will be executed."

Moreau nodded once, sharply.

The general's eyes narrowed slightly.

"This army has not degraded to the level where we no longer care about the lives of our troops."

His words were firm.

Absolute.

Moreau held his gaze.

He wanted to believe that.

Desperately.

But the last few days had proven otherwise.

Delon gestured toward the door.

"You are dismissed, Capitaine."

Moreau gave a sharp salute, stepping toward the exit.

Just as he reached the door

The general spoke again.

His tone was quieter, but somehow heavier.

"Before you go…"

Moreau stopped.

"Just before you, Perrin told me that difficult men are the ones who change history."

Moreau glanced back, watching as Delon sat back down, his fingers laced together.

"Even though I don't want to, I feel that is the most correct statement in today's Europe."

His gaze was distant, thoughtful.

"Have patience, Capitaine. The reward for it will be glory for eternity."

Moreau said nothing.

Because for the first time in his life

He wasn't sure if he wanted glory.

All he wanted was the truth.

And the war to come would decide whether he lived to see it.