Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: The Genius of Defeat
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There was only one reason why the Holy Sword Master was forcing his son onto the battlefield.
Military merit.
Like Duke Sachsen's 'Black Prince,' whose fame echoed throughout the entire empire... he wanted his son to achieve great deeds on the battlefield and make the count's family name renowned across the empire.
After all, Phillip was the Holy Sword Master's only son and the count's heir. Therefore, until the Holy Sword Master could produce the 'perfect vessel' worthy of his holy sword and that child came of age, Phillip needed to serve, at least formally, as a pillar supporting the count's family alongside his father.
That was how it was supposed to be.
'I've never seen such a pathetic mutt come from such a great father.'
'It seems even the great Holy Sword Master couldn't succeed at raising a child!'
'Haha, I guess this is the end for the historic House Brandenburg.'
'And then you look at the eldest son of House Sachsen! The world is so unfair!'
But no matter how much he tried to hide his son's incompetence, he couldn't cover up the truth.
He recalled the nobles whispering about the incompetence of his reckless son, a womanizer with not a shred of talent for the sword.
As long as his son couldn't wield the holy sword, it went without saying that the fortunes of House Brandenburg would plummet.
Furthermore, the disastrous defeat in the Black and White Campaign drove the final nail in the coffin of the nobles' whispers. They mocked him behind his back as if the 'fall of House Brandenburg' were a foregone conclusion, endlessly chattering about Duke Sachsen's eldest son, that damned 'Black Prince'!
That was why he had to prove them wrong.
He had to achieve a military feat so great that no one would dare insult the count's heir, and he had to crush the pride of those who dared to mock his family.
In a way, the Holy Sword Master was no exception; he too was trapped in the 'Black Prince's shadow,' steeped in a sense of inferiority.
***
The Loire River. The boundary separating the self-proclaimed 'New Kingdom of Britannia' in the north of the island from the 'Imperial Territory' in the south.
For the independence army to reclaim the kingdom's capital, they had to cross the bridge over that very Loire River and advance into imperial territory.
For that reason, the Imperial Army had also split its 40,000-strong main force, stationing a large contingent of nearly 20,000 troops at 'Belle Forte,' the key fortress guarding the bridge, under the command of the count's reckless son, Phillip.
"You don't have to do anything."
The warning was repeated until his ears practically bled. He just had to sit there and twiddle his thumbs.
"Don't try to do anything."
No matter how powerful the Holy Maiden was, it would be impossible to capture a fortress defended by such a large force. But without breaking through this fortress, they could never reclaim the kingdom's capital.
He didn't care if Phillip was an idiot with not a single shred of talent. He wasn't trusting Phillip. He was trusting the fortress, Belle Forte.
After all, Belle Forte wasn't called an impregnable fortress for nothing.
Afterward, it would be the father's, the Holy Sword Master's, job to exaggerate and spread tales of heroism from the Siege of Belle Forte... casting his son as 'the count's heir who risked his life to defend the fortress against the traitorous horde.'
So that the entire empire would buzz with the heroic tales of Phillip, the count's heir!
It was a father's desperate struggle to build up the prestige of himself, his house, and his reckless son.
***
Around that time, Dale's situation was quite pathetic.
He had been given command of a mere thousand soldiers—the 500 from his Black Armor Company and another 500 Imperial troops added just for show—and was shoved into a remote corner, far from the main front.
It was, for all intents and purposes, a demotion.
Count Brandenburg, the Holy Sword Master, had pulled some strings beforehand to prevent the 'Black Prince' from distinguishing himself. A truly vile and petty method.
"Wait, that moron is going to defend Belle Forte?"
"Y-Yes, so I've heard."
Immediately after, news arrived that the Holy Sword Master had appointed his son, Phillip, as the commander of the defense of 'Belle Forte,' a key strategic point.
"Well, I'll be."
Dale burst out laughing in disbelief.
It wasn't hard to figure out the Holy Sword Master's intentions. The plan was likely for the lecherous Phillip to bravely defend the fortress against the traitors... and then they would exaggerate his deeds as much as possible to bolster the count's prestige.
All while the famous 'Black Prince' was stuck in this remote corner, twiddling his thumbs.
'Everyone's so busy looking out for themselves.'
In truth, no one gathered here doubted the 'Empire's victory.' No matter how miraculous a victory the Holy Maiden Orelia had achieved, one battle didn't decide a war. And the Empire was not a nation to be taken lightly.
That was why the minds of the Imperial commanders were all filled with one thought: how big a slice of the victory pie they could claim for themselves.
'What a dysfunctional mess.'
In a way, the political infighting was fiercer than the war against the independence army itself.
"Lord Yones."
"Yes, my lord!"
"Care to make a bet with me?"
At Dale's casual tone, Lord Yones tilted his head for a moment.
"A-A bet?"
"On how many days it'll take for Belle Forte to fall."
Lord Yones gasped in surprise at Dale's words.
"But... no matter what, there are 20,000 Imperial troops stationed at that fortress."
Plus, they even have mages capable of blocking the enemy's wide-area magic.
"Do you know why a genius is called a genius?"
"W-Well, no."
"A talent bestowed by the heavens. The ability to see the unknown, something ordinary people can't possibly predict."
Was he about to boast about himself out of the blue?
"In that respect, Lord Phillip is truly a heaven-sent genius."
He wasn't.
"Then shouldn't we have even less to worry about?"
"No, a genius of defeat."
"..."
Lord Yones was so dumbfounded by those words that he fell silent.
"How could mere mortals like us possibly comprehend the mind of a genius?"
Dale continued as if it were someone else's problem.
"The power of a genius is to make the impossible possible, no matter how unlikely it seems..."
To be honest, by Dale's standards, the fall of Belle Forte was next to impossible.
But a genius makes the impossible possible. At least in that regard, Dale had no doubt about 'Phillip's genius.'
"There's no way someone like the Holy Sword Master could understand Lord Phillip's genius."
And so, Dale continued.
"So, how many days until the fortress falls? What's your bet?"
"I-I'll bet on one week."
"I'll take three days."
***
Three days later, at Belle Forte.
"The traitors are retreating!"
Having repelled the Britannia independence army's assault, Commander Phillip's heart swelled with overwhelming emotion.
The defense was a success. It was a victory.
"It was I, Phillip of Brandenburg, who was victorious!"
Not the eldest son of House Sachsen, but Phillip himself!
He imagined the tales of valor the gossips of the empire would tell about this victory, just as they had for the 'Black Prince.' —The count's heir who risked his life to bravely repel the traitors' assault and defend the fortress!
A great epic of victory that the people of the empire would one day sing. This heroic tale would be the first page of his legend.
'No, this isn't enough.'
But this was still not enough to adorn the first chapter of a heroic tale that would echo throughout the empire.
'I can't let a mere victory like this be the opening chapter of my epic.'
Once again, he thought of the young heir of House Sachsen. The greatest genius in the empire. The countless tales of victory he had achieved.
That was why Phillip's victory had to be more brilliant, more spectacular, and greater than his.
A heroic victory that would in no way be outshone by the 'Black Prince's' fame. A victory that would not pale in comparison to the feats of the empire's greatest genius.
"Don't let them get away!"
Phillip raised his voice.
"Prepare to sally forth! Lower the fortress drawbridge! We will pursue them!"
"B-But, Lord Phillip!"
"Silence! How dare the likes of you defy the heir of House Brandenburg!"
At his words, a knight of Saint Magdalena, startled, tried to stop him. But as Dale had said, the knights of Saint Magdalena were no match for 'Phillip's caliber.'
"Anyone who disobeys my command will be executed on the spot!"
Phillip shouted.
"Everyone, prepare to sally! We will hunt down and annihilate the fleeing traitors!"
To finally break free from the 'Black Prince's shadow' that haunted him like a nightmare and seize a glorious victory.
"Everyone, follow me!"
Phillip of Brandenburg.
"My era begins now!"
His heroic legend was only just beginning.
***
A week after that. Belle Forte had fallen, and Phillip had been captured.
The natural barrier between the Kingdom of Britannia and the Imperial territories, the impregnable fortress. The Imperial Army's key strategic point for preventing a crossing of the Loire River had crumbled with ease, with barely any casualties on the independence army's side.
Furthermore, the entire Imperial garrison defending the fortress was annihilated, and its commander, Phillip, fell into the hands of the Britannia independence army... and was now being held for a massive ransom.
As a result, the plan to wear down the Britannia independence army's stamina through a long-term defense of Belle Forte, while the Holy Sword Master's main force executed a flanking maneuver to the rear during the drawn-out siege—
—that plan to annihilate the Britannia independence army in one fell swoop had also gone up in smoke.
***
After the fall of Belle Forte.
Crossing the Loire River, the Britannia independence army began to advance with unstoppable momentum.
And at Reims, the independence army's target—a key base within Imperial territory and the former capital of the Kingdom of Britannia—the Imperial high command gathered once more.
With one exception: the count's reckless son, who had been captured by the enemy and was now a prisoner.
"Well, well. So much for the saying that a tiger father doesn't raise a dog for a son."
Dale, who had been abruptly recalled from his demotion, spat the cold mockery.
"As if wiping out five hundred knights of Saint Magdalena in the Black and White Campaign wasn't enough..."
Having no qualms about being part of the dysfunctional organization, he continued his taunts toward the Holy Sword Master.
"He had to go and drive nearly 20,000 of the Empire's sons to their deaths."
"..."
"They say losing is a talent too, but this isn't something you can achieve with ordinary talent."
The Holy Sword Master bit his lip so hard it bled.
"I wonder what the 'people of the Empire' will have to say about Lord Phillip's historic defeat."
A historic defeat. It was true. A shocking loss that would become an indelible disgrace for the count's house, remembered for generations to come.
Blood trickled down the Holy Sword Master's lip as he desperately suppressed the urge to draw his holy sword.
The fate of those who couldn't escape 'Dale's shadow.' It was a truly ridiculous sight.
"I'm genuinely curious, how exactly did it fall?"
"Sometime after the first siege battle began..."
Lady Scarlet picked up where Dale left off.
"When the enemy failed to take the fortress and began to flee, Lord Phillip sent his main force out in pursuit, I hear."
"Wait, he sent the main force outside the fortress?"
"Well, so I'm told."
"Then they must have been ambushed and wiped out."
"Hehe, you're sharp as ever, Lord Dale."
Lady Scarlet smiled calmly, as if it were someone else's problem. She seemed unconcerned by the crushing defeat, which was no laughing matter. She, too, was no exception in having her 'own objectives' in this battle.
"After that, the Britannia independence army disguised themselves in Imperial armor and entered the fortress unopposed, with the captured Lord Phillip at their head."
As if they were the victorious troops, returning triumphantly after pursuing and annihilating the fleeing enemy.
"So he just meekly asked them to let him into the fortress?"
"So I hear."
"..."
"From what I heard, he shouted of his victory in a very gallant and dignified manner."
All to save his own skin. A vein bulged on the Holy Sword Master's forehead once more.
And that was how the fortress fell, and Phillip became a prisoner. They had taken Belle Forte, the so-called impregnable fortress, practically without shedding a drop of blood.
One couldn't help but praise the strategy of the Britannia independence army. But before that, to think he would fall for such a transparent trick.
"I'm so dumbfounded I'm speechless."
Not even a few weeks after the large Imperial force landed on the island of Britannia, half of the 40,000-strong army had been wiped out... and they had suffered the critical loss of the key fortress on the Loire River and its crossing point to the enemy.
Phillip's performance was truly that of an 'overpowered monster' who could single-handedly turn the tide of war.
And so.
"We're screwed."
Dale muttered, as if it were someone else's problem.