I'm Jacques, I'm 20, and I'm a political commissar-but what the hell is a militia political commissar?

I'm Jacques, I'm 20, and I'm a political commissar.

I'm from the Principality of Olexian. My father was a baron, and I was his second son.

That day, after the new Grand Duke, Lynn, had finished the Heir War, he plastered notices everywhere and sent Political Commissars out to promote so-called democracy and freedom, making use of their family connections as well.

I didn't really understand any of it. I was an uneducated good-for-nothing. My father never loved me, and neither did my mother. They doted on my older sister from the time we were children, while they raised me however they pleased. That was how I went bad.

They simply didn't care about me.

My fiancée didn't like me either, because I was fat. But apart from eating, I didn't know how else to relieve stress.

I'd only meant to muddle through my life and let it come to a sorry end. But that day, as soon as I came out of the casino, I was grabbed and sent off to serve.

At the time, I cursed, "Lynn, you really are a bastard!"

But that was also what changed my life.

I had no idea where they got the heart to keep saying, "We won't give up on you. We won't abandon you."

They caught me every time I tried to dodge training.

I was exhausted after running five hundred meters, yet they kept talking about three kilometers, five kilometers, and even thirty-kilometer runs in full gear whenever they felt like it.

The people in charge also said that, judging by bloodline, nobles did indeed have a higher proportion of people with magical talent. They tested us when we enlisted, and many of them turned out to have it.

So all the things I'd missed out on at the