Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The War Game
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* * *
*Clack.*
Dale moved a cavalry-shaped chess piece forward on the wooden table. Seeing the move, his father, Duke Sachsen, who had taken on the role of his opponent, moved his own piece.
Though the shapes of some pieces, like the cavalry and infantry, resembled those of chess, this was by no means a game of chess.
It was a war game, played with models of various troop types and units, governed by rules even stricter than those of actual warfare.
They had exchanged over a dozen moves in this battle of wits.
“My victory.”
By now, Dale’s pieces had surrounded his father’s forces on the table. The final move had just been made.
“With this, you’ll keep your promise, right?”
“……”
His father, Duke Sachsen, silently closed his mouth.
“Well, I’ll be…”
Lord Helmut, who had been watching their match from the side, gasped in surprise.
It was unbelievable.
‘Let me command the Sachsen knights and lead this battle myself.’
This was right after Baron Perker, backed by the power of the Holy Sword Master, had declared a territorial war on Baron Greenbelt, a minor lord under House Sachsen.
Even Duke Sachsen could not easily nod in agreement to Dale’s request.
Moreover, this was not a mere squabble between barons. It was too soon for the young Dale to handle.
That was why Lord Helmut had suggested this game, intending to make Dale realize ‘the complexity of a real battle.’
Since the goal was to simulate actual combat, the complexity of the rules was, of course, beyond words.
──And just as Lord Helmut had initially thought, it didn’t take long to persuade Dale.
“Alright, I’ve memorized it all.”
No sooner had Dale finished a single reading of the rule book, which was as thick as several encyclopedias.
“Let’s begin.”
This was the result.
Gazing down at the state of the war on the wooden table as if it were the palm of his hand, he recited ‘the reason and the rule book’s regulation’ for every piece he moved, without a single mistake. Furthermore, he justified every action he took in maneuvering his troops, achieving a record of two wins and one loss against his father, Duke Sachsen.
Although it was a match thoroughly tailored for a beginner—with Dale being granted numerical superiority in troops and a geographical advantage, and Duke Sachsen deliberately making poor moves—the value of Dale’s victory against the greatest Archduke of the North could not be diminished in the slightest.
“How long have you known about this game?”
That was Duke Sachsen’s first question after the match concluded.
As if he had seen through Dale’s little ruse from the start.
“I found the ‘rule book’ for this game in the library a few years ago and started learning it in my spare time.”
At the question, Dale finally smiled like a child, as if his trick had been discovered.
──It was a lie.
But if he didn’t frame it this way, it went without saying how his abilities would be perceived.
“……”
Duke Sachsen nodded silently.
“A promise is a promise.”
He continued after the nod.
“In my name, I shall entrust you with the command of the Sachsen knights in the coming battle.”
“Your Grace!”
“Yes, Father.”
Leaving the flustered Lord Helmut behind, Dale bowed his head slightly.
* * *
“We estimate the number of knights from the Order of Saint Magdalena to be dispatched will be between three hundred and five hundred at most.”
Lord Helmut, along with his subordinate knights and staff, sketched a map of the battlefield on the wooden table.
“Considering the size of the lance each knight commands, their total forces will number just under two thousand.”
A lance: a small unit composed of a single knight, the squires who assisted him, and several men-at-arms.
Duke Sachsen nodded silently at his vassal’s report.
“We, too, will summon five hundred knights.”
Gasps could be heard from all around at that number.
Summoning one’s knights was not as simple as it sounded. The Sachsen Duchy was vast and endlessly exposed to the darkness of the Demon King’s domain. Subjugating the monsters that swarmed within the territory was also the knights’ duty, and each of them had their own fiefs to govern and protect.
Unless one was waging an all-out war, a force of five hundred knights was a number not even an Archduke of the Empire could take lightly.
But just as it was for Duke Sachsen…
‘The burden will be no different for the Holy Sword Master.’
Both sides were backed into a corner with no room for retreat.
“With the honor of House Sachsen on the line, defeat is absolutely unacceptable.”
The Lord Black spoke.
“No matter how high my expectations are for you…”
His voice carried a gravity greater than usual.
“A single act of recklessness, of not knowing your own limits, could turn all the talent you possess to nothing.”
Dale nodded silently.
“I will ask you one last time.”
“Speak, Father.”
“Are you truly certain you can bear the full weight of this battle?”
Depending on the outcome, the entire tower he had built up until now could come crashing down.
“Please, act with prudence, Dale.”
As if to say there was no shame in backing down now.
“Trust me, Father.”
But nothing would change, even with the Lord Black’s imposing warning.
“Trust in the fact that I am your son.”
Even before the campaign had begun, a vision of victory, more certain than anything else, was already drawn in Dale’s mind.
* * *
A short time later, at Malbork, the great castle of Count Brandenburg.
“A rumor is circulating that the young heir of House Sachsen will personally lead the Lord Black’s knights.”
“You have nothing to worry about, Father!”
At his father Count Brandenburg’s words, the count’s eldest son, ‘Phillip the Lecher,’ boomed with laughter.
“Our opponent is a mere ten-year-old brat! Please, allow me to take your knights and crush that arrogant little pipsqueak from House Sachsen!”
“...A mere ten-year-old brat, you say?”
But at Phillip’s confident declaration of victory, the count’s expression turned icy cold.
“An arrogant little pipsqueak from House Sachsen?”
“W-Well…”
“The young heir of House Sachsen,”
Count Brandenburg spat coldly at the flustered, stammering Phillip.
“is a monster whose shadow a dunce like you could not hope to touch even in a hundred years.”
The prodigy of the ducal house, the greatest genius in the Empire.
He recalled the tiresome tales of valor that the Empire’s gossips chattered about day in and day out.
But more than anything… he remembered Dale’s eyes looking at him amidst the unforgettable humiliation of that day.
“You pathetic worm, worse than a ten-year-old brat.”
“……”
Compared to that, this useless, incompetent flesh and blood before him!
A despairing lack of talent with the sword, barely reaching the level of an average person even with the Empire’s finest knights training him all day long.
And yet, a useless son who was lazy, overconfident in his own abilities, and did nothing but chase women.
‘I should have gotten my hands on that girl from House Orharhart, the Divine Sword’s bloodline, long ago…’
As the count gazed at his son, not a trace of fatherly affection could be found in his eyes. His expression was one of looking at a piece of irredeemable trash.
“In the coming battle, I will grant you command of our knights.”
“Father…!”
Despite everything, Phillip gasped in awe at the unexpected words.
“──However, you are to do nothing.”
That was, until he heard the cold addendum that followed.
“No, just don’t even try to do anything.”
As if there was nothing Phillip could possibly contribute.
“W-What do you mean…?”
“The battle will be conducted entirely under the command of your adjutant, Lord Milvas. Your role is simply to show your face there.”
Purely as a figurehead for House Brandenburg.
If he had his way, he would have personally led the knights and commanded the battle himself, but a proud war hero of the Empire could not go all out against a mere ten-year-old child.
Even if he won, it would only serve to elevate Dale’s name, and he would become a laughingstock throughout the Empire.
Therefore, this battle needed to be framed as a confrontation between the eldest sons of the ducal and comital houses.
Even if his son was a worthless worm in whom he couldn’t place a shred of hope, unlike Sachsen’s Dale.
‘Was this his calculation from the start?’
The count clicked his tongue, assuming the current situation was ‘Duke Sachsen’s ploy.’
He remained oblivious as to whose scheme he had truly fallen into.
* * *
As the summons for the Sachsen knights began and the day of departure drew near.
At dawn, in the ducal couple’s bedchamber.
His wife, Elena, had only managed to fall asleep after weeping through the night.
Duke Sachsen, too, took a moment to rest, perching on the edge of the bed only after spending the night persuading her.
This world was no different. What mother could accept sending her child off to a battlefield without a care?
“You need not worry so much.”
And yet.
“...That child possesses far more than we could ever imagine.”
Duke Sachsen whispered softly to the already sleeping Elena.
“When Dale comes of age, the sights he will see are beyond even my own imagination.”
Gently stroking her hair, he spoke in a voice that seemed to be reasoning with himself.
“Our child will one day become the master of this world.”
* * *
Around the time Phillip, the eldest son of House Brandenburg, began his march north leading the Order of Saint Magdalena.
Sachsen’s Dale, in response to the news, also began his campaign with the ducal house’s knights.
At the northern fringe, in the domain of Baron Greenbelt.
The five hundred knights under Dale’s command, along with their squires and the ducal house’s supply train, arrived in the territory.
A short time later, the knights led by Phillip also arrived safely in the neighboring domain of Baron Perker.
* * *
Greenbelt Castle.
“I humbly present myself before Lord Dale of Sachsen!”
Within the North, the weight of Dale’s name was difficult to even fathom.
But here at the northern edge, where Duke Sachsen’s influence waned, Baron Greenbelt’s feelings were, in truth, rather complicated.
‘To think they would actually send a ten-year-old brat to such an important battle!’
No matter how much they praised him as the ducal prodigy, wasn't he, in the end, just a naive child who knew nothing of the world?
“Baron Greenbelt.”
The young Dale wore a black surcoat over his custom-made armor. Lined up behind him was the pride of House Sachsen, the ‘Black Cavalry.’
“First, allow me to prepare a humble banquet in the castle for you, my lord…”
And just as the baron, like most nobles, was about to observe the ‘courtesies’ toward his superior.
“We don’t have much time.”
Dale slowly shook his head.
“First, I wish to inspect the condition of the soldiers you have in your domain.”
After shaking his head, Dale continued.
“Among the men you command, who is the strongest?”
*Sching.*
He drew the arming sword that was slung at his hip.