The Siege Tower Deception
"This is practically our last chance. If we fail here too, we won't get off lightly."
In the grand conference room of Belgium Fortress.
One sentence from Major General Crem, commander of the 3rd Legion, cast a heavy pall over the room.
"We can't afford any more defeats. And right now, the timing couldn't be better. Internal strife and mutual suspicion, starving soldiers. As long as we don't screw up, victory is ours."
Anyone could see it—this was the perfect moment to strike.
Crem wasn't the kind of incompetent commander to let such an opportunity slip away.
"Chief Tactical Staff Officer, do you have a strategy in mind?"
Crem addressed Lieutenant Colonel Baren Seto, seated in the middle of the right row in the conference room.
"Well, as you said, sir, the enemy's current state is indeed unstable. But before we dive in, there's something we need to address first."
He scanned the room with his eyes, taking in the general-grade commanders present.
"Shouldn't we start by analyzing why our last four assaults failed?"
"Ahem."
"What's the point of dredging that up now, Lieutenant Colonel?"
The moment the topic arose, the commanders showed clear discomfort.
They had skin in the game—responsibility that they had no desire to revisit.
"From what I've reviewed, all four attacks should have been victories by my standards. But we lost. If we don't fix the internal issues, we'll get the same result again."
His voice didn't waver in the face of the generals' words.
It sounded absurd, but there was a unique circumstance here.
"Not wrong. Speak. What does a scion of Duke Seto's house—the empire's finest minds—see as the cause of our defeats?"
It might expose his own failings, but Crem suppressed his unease as best he could.
No, he had to.
The emperor himself had ordered Baren's assignment.
"After arriving two weeks ago, I checked the reports against reality, and the state of our weapons was far worse than documented."
Baren began laying out what he'd confirmed by pounding the pavement in the mornings and poring over paperwork at night.
"And with training nonstop, no days off, the accumulated fatigue is severe."
Everything Baren was saying wasn't in any report.
"I don't know who ordered it, but running drills on soldiers whose combat sense is already maxed out—just draining their stamina—makes me question if it's friendly fire."
The room froze cold at words that stopped just short of outright curses.
"Lieutenant Colonel, watch your tongue."
"What's wrong with soldiers training? You sit there scribbling papers like you know everything, but without drills, discipline crumbles."
Colonels, glancing nervously at the stars, chimed in one by one.
But Baren wasn't the type to back down in a spot like this—he wouldn't be here if he were.
"The biggest threat to discipline right now? Failing to take a single fortress staring us in the face. Isn't that why we keep losing?"
Instant rebuttal, no room for doubt.
No one else opened their mouth; they knew they'd get nothing out of it but humiliation.
They cursed inwardly, that's all.
Damn it, having to take this humiliation from that kid.
Thought he'd keep quiet till he shipped out after arriving without a fuss. Been waiting for today, the sneaky bastard.
"Discipline? Loyalty? I'm no born soldier, so I don't care. And you're mistaken—the emperor wants victory reports, not a strong army."
"I get it. I'll order training minimized. Weapons will be inspected realistically too."
"Thank you for hearing me out."
Baren bowed toward Crem.
"Surely there are more issues you want to raise?"
"Yes, sir."
"This is a meeting to plan the capture of Rimir Castle, so compile them separately and submit. I'll approve them all."
Do what you want, but stop the public shaming—the general's implication.
Not a bad deal, so Baren nodded.
"Thank you."
"Now, back to the main point. Tell us how we'll take Rimir Castle."
"Understood. I'll explain using the map from here on."
Baren stepped to the center of the room and picked up the pointer.
"The core reason capturing Rimir Castle is so hard? Those high, sturdy walls."
Not just sturdy—mana circuits etched inside made them incomparable to ordinary fortifications.
"A frontal assault is sheer folly. Even if we breach them, the casualties would make it no victory."
"Ahem."
"Kuh-hum."
Two of the four attacks had been frontal pushes, so the commanders averted their eyes.
Baren pressed on, unperturbed.
"Cutting supply lines for a siege won't work either—the Lycan Empire isn't sitting idle. Another poor choice."
For reference, their most recent tactic had been blockading supplies and shelling for damage.
"So what are you suggesting?"
"Get to the point."
Irritated voices from the commanders; Baren frowned but spoke.
"You want the core? We'll use siege towers to vault the walls."
"Ha, siege towers? They've been worthless since Magic Bullets came along."
"You think those behemoths can even reach the walls?"
"Tsk tsk. No wonder. Book-smart types shouldn't play tactician."
Grumbles erupted the instant the underwhelming idea dropped.
The quiet ones were those who knew even a little about House Seto.
"Quiet. Lieutenant Colonel, I doubt your plan ends at siege towers. What's the full strategy?"
Crem calmed the growing unrest and asked.
"If you could review this, I'd appreciate it."
Baren unrolled a large sheet of paper, revealing siege tower blueprints.
Far more advanced than any known design, to anyone’s eye.
But that wasn't the key.
"Mana stones, 100 kilograms per tower...? Are you serious?"
Shoving in mana stones pricier than gold—shocking, to say the least.
"I revised the blueprints dozens of times to minimize usage."
"Engraving defensive magic circuits and framing the skeleton with mana stones won't make it invincible."
"I know. That's why we'll build multiple towers to disperse their fire."
Sighs rippled through the room at Baren's words.
"Where's the army getting that kind of money?"
"Heh, this is pure fantasy."
Dismissive reactions, as if it wasn't worth hearing.
But Baren looked incredulous instead.
"When did I say all the siege towers would use mana stones?"
"Uh? The blueprint shows—"
"One reaching the wall renders the enemy helpless. No need for the rest. Five real ones are plenty."
"Then the others?"
"Wooden dummies. Simple structure—quick to build."
Smarter commanders grasped the full plan and reeled in shock.
Hundreds of decoys drawing fire, real mana stone towers slipping through... It's over.
Huh, impressive. Those rumors must be true.
"Won't they figure it out mid-attack and concentrate fire?"
"The enemy won't judge that fast. They'll just think they missed."
Crem closed his eyes, imagining himself as Rimir's commander.
Hundreds of towers rolling up—fake or real? No way to tell.
Even from the defending side, no counter came to mind.
"How long to prepare?"
"Two months if all goes smoothly."
"You'll have full authority. Make it happen."
"Thank you, sir."
Too grand a task for a lieutenant colonel, but no one objected.
It was cleaner and more flawless than anything they'd puzzled over for months.
"Rimir Castle will finally return to our fold."
"Can't wait for two months from now."
"We'll wash away the shame of defeat at last."
Commanders sucking up to match the improved mood.
Crem, eyeing them, hit the key point.
"If the lieutenant colonel requests anything, treat it as my order and support fully. Understood?"
"Yes, sir...!!"
They hated it inwardly, outmatched by talent, but nodded.
And the very next day, siege tower construction began on one side of Belgium Fortress.
"If you take too much, the people behind won't have any!"
"Self-serve, but only take what you can eat!"
Company members raised their voices watching soldiers heap french fries.
Watching from afar, Ciel couldn't believe it.
"Never dreamed potatoes would get so popular we'd need rationing."
"Same here. Probably fixed portions starting next week, not self-serve."
Two weeks since french fry development: mass production guide set, all three meals featured them starting four days ago.
Reaction? Explosive.
Mountains of unwanted potato stock vanishing fast.
And next week, potato chips join in. Freedom from potatoes at last.
Who could've guessed it'd resolve like this?
"Captain, is this... the one you developed for us? For real?"
As she turned to head back to the office, an unfamiliar soldier approached.
Developed for the troops?
Not entirely false, but strictly speaking, it solved an urgent problem.
But people need to lie sometimes.
"You all eat well, we win the war, right? Just doing my job."
Humble, yet owning her achievement.
"Really... thank you so much. Thought we'd die choking on potatoes."
Life had been rough, apparently.
The soldier's eyes glistened with tears.