Chapter 460
Chapter 460
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Another Solo Play (19)
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In the end, Kauld and I stepped out briefly to evade Nigmi's interference and finished our unfinished discussion.
"I'll explain one last time. The area our legion has secured in the capital stretches from here to here."
"Mm-hmm."
"Marburad Count's retainers handle from here to here. When engagement occurs, they collapse the foundations of any remaining buildings to sever the enemy's formation at the waist..."
"Oh, clever head you've got there. Mm~ mm-hmm."
Kauld's plan, marked out on the massive map with advance routes and legion positions filling every inch.
"...And that's up to here. Any other opinions?"
"Of course, uh—let me see."
Compared to his incredibly intricate strategy, the plan I proposed to Kauld was ridiculously simple.
"I see you've completely surrounded the capital's outskirts. Right?"
"Mm."
"You've seized all the key points stretching from the canyon to outside the capital."
"That's right. In case of emergency, we need to escort Her Majesty out."
"Perfect, then. Let's shove every single one of the outsiders and the servants' city garrison straight into the battlefield."
"...Mobilize all the retainers assigned to the rear."
"Yes. Shove them all in, and when the inner capital forces rush out to block them, creating a gap—ram our elites through that gap and charge straight for the Emperor's head."
A full-frontal assault mobilizing the entire legion, paralleled by an elite assassination op.
"Hmm. I see."
"Yes."
"And that's it?"
Kauld's assessment of my plan, summed up with three simple strokes on the map, was this:
"Even a human child playing with toy soldiers would put more thought into it than that."
For Kauld, who couldn't curse in the Queen's presence, this was the best double-barreled insult he could muster.
Fair enough—even I, if some commander brought me crap like that as a 'strategy,' would skip debating its execution and start interrogating how the incompetent bastard clawed his way up here.
"Is that so?"
"You'd have to be joking to think otherwise. If I force a rational explanation, maybe you're just keenly interested in thinning our race's numbers."
"No way. You lot have to stay intact if we're going to hold off the Warlord's horde—why would I sabotage that?"
"Then what's this? Some hidden wisdom in that blind charge and blind assassination plot that I'm missing?"
"Hmm, less 'profound wisdom' and more... the complex situation forcing us to simplify our approach."
"Forcing simplification?"
"Logistics. Troops. Command structure—the three biggest factors in war, and none of them allow for surprises, right? So the strategy simplifies naturally."
"Mm."
"Shall we break it down based on the intel you've provided?"
Thwack!
I raised the command baton over the map cluttered with threads and pins and pointed.
"First, logistics. The Emperor's army runs on curse power, undead thralls. Ours are retainers reborn from the flesh and blood of our fallen, produced with minimal loss—so both sides render supply lines irrelevant. No need to consider ops that exploit enemy non-combat attrition."
Screeech—
Sweeping the baton over rear harassment and frontline cutoff pins cleared about a third of the map.
"Troops next—the Emperor's souls are bound by curse and pact, reborn intact at his side even in death. Ours spawn endlessly from the Lords' dungeons. Attrition war? Pointless. Small skirmishes to shape the big battle? Also pointless."
Clearing small engagements and formation tweaks based on them wiped another third.
"Command structure? The Emperor's the sole authority, right? Orders transmit instantly with a thought—no disrupting chains, no dividing enemy head from hands."
Sweeping elite spearhead ops last left only the Mutant legion's main camp pins and the massive arrow plunging toward the Imperial Palace.
"Of course, nothing wrong with your plan, Kauld—it's just every single thing mid-level commanders need to think about on the field, all laid out. Not big-picture general stuff."
"Mm. But considering it all lets us navigate multiple fronts more favorably, no?"
"So, can the other Lords understand and execute this labyrinth of a plan?"
"Uuuuuuuh..."
Kauld grimaced and nodded.
"Impossible. That's why, in every battle so far, I've gathered the group leaders here in this audience chamber and issued direct orders to the whole army through them."
"Which is why our strongest assets, the Mutant Lords, have been stuck as mere heralds by the Queen's side."
Nearly half our forces wasted securing retreat routes.
More general-grade troops burned calling in Mutant Lords for micromanagement.
Scraping by on leftovers against that ironclad Emperor's army—small wonder the front hadn't budged in nearly three years.
'Of course, that same caution kept us from yielding an inch in those three years.'
If the primary issue was the Mutant King over-relying on 'Imperial Strategy' learned from that book, the secondary was their hyper-defensive playbook.
Frontline dips a bit? Endless reserves wait beyond the canyon to plug it.
Enemy pushes for a breakthrough? Each Mutant Lord is a walking fortress-city apocalypse, swarming from the Queen's chamber. One footfall of Emperor's troops near the canyon, and they'd roar 'Blasphemous scum!!!' and steamroll them.
Guys who couldn't imagine a speck of danger to the Queen—that's how it'd go. Even a genius like Kauld, boxed in that mindset, couldn't make real progress.
Thwack.
Screeech—
"Our combat power's even, but we've got numbers. Shove 'em all in, brute-force the line toward the capital."
I jammed all friendly pins forward. Broader front strains the smaller force's coverage, naturally crumpling the enemy's inward.
"Of course, their elites would chew us up if we hold it—but we overwhelm them briefly, at least."
"What's the point?"
"They use the same playbook. If the Mutant legion's touchy about the Queen's safety, the Emperor's army's hypersensitive to his."
"Luring out the inner Holy City's guard knights."
"Ours would swarm if Emperor's troops neared the canyon, right?"
Three years of deadlock means they'll freak at a sudden all-out push—especially if it looks like we're steamrolling.
"That creates a massive 'gap.' Fake superiority from dumping our whole army in, loosening their defenses briefly. Before it closes, our elites race for the Imperial Palace."
Screeech—
The baton slashed across the map again.
From our canyon heart, deeper in, toward its jagged end.
"Canyon reeks of corpses, but Nigmi and the Mutants don't strike me as corpse-hoarding hobbyists."
"So corpses piled elsewhere—none from entrance to here, so beyond this Mutant outpost."
One thing had nagged me since arriving.
'Why hasn't Kauld used this canyon to hit the enemy's rear from above?'
The surface front was at the Holy City's walls, and this capital-splitting canyon ran straight to its center.
Servants' city – Holy City – Imperial Palace precincts. That inward thrust was a perfect highway ignoring enemy terrain advantages.
Kauld wasn't rigid-brained; his tactical chops crushed mine. No special reason, he'd have flooded it.
"Enemy near Nigmi? Obviously purged. Not purging means reason—necessity. And what you deem necessary is usually what Nigmi needs..."
Corpse pile deep in the canyon.
Needed by Nigmi.
Tough enough to stockpile in this hellfront, non-hostile to her, helpful alive.
Combining clues—
"Curse, right? At that canyon tip."
The darkness blanketing this place—old curse bursting from the Imperial Palace basement, tied to the Emperor's and that black mage Darik's words.
"Isn't the source right there in the canyon toward the Holy City? Light a fire here, out pops some colossal black blob."
"...Yes."
Kauld affirmed my confident guess.
"The path from here to the canyon's end is the easiest into the Holy City—but you must deal with the 'black thing' coiled there. Kill it, the magical darkness lifts. Emperor's purple mist floods in. Too risky with Her Majesty here."
"What battle's ever risk-free? With that bigger Warlord threat breathing down our necks, we rush. Shortcuts are rough by nature."
"But..."
"Kauld. The Warlord nearly killed Nigmi once. Don't bank on that luck repeating."
Kauld wrestled it. Empty the retreat, empty her guard, turn this haven into Emperor-tainted ground for the overgrown child.
His eyelids fluttered like instinct clashing with reason—then he decided.
"...I'll stay by Her Majesty. Minimum condition."
"If that's how it is."
Losing the toughest-looking Mutant to the rear stings, but that's his final line. Push more, backfire—so accept it.
"12 hours. Precisely 12 hours from now, all legions move at once. Prep fully and assemble at the canyon entry path."
Kauld barely spat it out and hurried toward the audience chamber.
'Anxious, off to Nigmi. Says 12 hours, but hates risking her even a bit. One '[No!]' from her, and he'll stroll back all smug: '[Her Majesty refuses. Plan canceled.]'"
Kauld would spill everything ahead—no holds barred. No more easy lounging; her myriad guards stepping away briefly; even she, safest of all, might face danger.
Plus, his dogged loyalty—he'd explain it's all to prep for the coming Warlord clash. Why risk her. Every thought, every doubt, unfiltered.
"Warlord mention seals it."
To current Nigmi, Warlord was Pavlovian. His lips hit [Warlord], approval drops.
Seeing her terrified, pitiful face? Kauld doubles down on Warlord fear. Hurries to break the imperial stalemate. In 12 hours, resolute Kauld marching Mutant hordes.
"12 hours. Won't sleep for days after—better crash now."
Gap from all-out assault to Emperor hit means non-stop fighting from 12 hours on till his head rolls.
Back up top, dashing through that headache-inducing, breath-stealing purple mist—rest while I can.
Clank.
"Mm. Maintenance needed too. Time's tight."
Eyes hit my tattered longsword; I groped the opposite passage from Kauld's exit.
"People living here with the Mutants, right."
No guide needed—someone unused to dark fumbles snagged a wall-tied rope.
" Folks who've bunked with Nigmi's Mutant legion for three years..."
Cozy bed, warm soup tempting—but curiosity burned hottest.
Feet quickened down the pitch-black tunnel.
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