Baiting the Hook
At the report of enemy movement in the early hours of the morning, the commander woke with a start. He hastily threw on his heavy armor and stepped out of his tent.
"Adjutant, what is the situation?"
The adjutant, his face tense with anxiety, replied, "The enemy is marching directly toward our position, sir."
The commander nodded. "Deploy our forces exactly as I instructed at dawn."
"Yes, sir!"
Watching his adjutant hurry away, the commander let a triumphant smile slip onto his face.
While it is impossible to guarantee absolute victory in war... the enemy is at a disadvantage in every conceivable way. I will likely have good news to report soon.
An elderly general was the first to speak. "Commander Agrippa."
The handsome blonde man sat atop his horse, his gaze fixed on the enemy lines.
"Commander Agrippa, would it not be wise to withdraw our forces even now?"
Agrippa did not answer, merely continuing to study the enemy's deployment. His utter composure made the old general sigh inwardly.
Agrippa will undoubtedly become a magnificent general in the future. But this is his very first battle, is it not? I must make him abandon this absurd strategy before it is too late.
With that thought, the old general spoke again. "Commander Agrippa?"
Agrippa, still staring into the distance, finally spoke. "Perhaps it is because of the sea, but the air smells quite salty."
At this completely irrelevant remark, the old general sighed heavily. "Commander Agrippa. This plan is far too reckless."
To stake the fate of the Grand Duchy on such a perilous tactic—intentionally exposing a weakness to lure the enemy in and crush them—was madness.
In truth, General Enrique had served the Lion family since the time of the previous Grand Duke, and even the one before him. He despised such reckless warfare. To him, the fundamental rule of war was to secure victory before the battle even began. He had no stomach for strategies that resembled a gamble.
If... if the enemy does not take the bait, there will be no turning back.
Should that happen, the Grand Duchy would crumble, and they would be forced into humiliating peace negotiations.
Perhaps sensing the old general's anxiety, the handsome blonde commander spoke. "Do not worry, General Enrique. The enemy will absolutely take the bait."
Enrique found it difficult to understand Agrippa's absolute confidence. Was this genius seeing something he could not? Or was it merely the reckless arrogance of a prodigy?
Only a select few within the Grand Duchy held Agrippa in high regard. Among them was Enrique, who had realized Agrippa's true caliber during their debates on military strategy.
Agrippa is a genius of warfare.
Enrique had never met anyone so adept at psychological warfare, nor anyone so thoroughly versed in both orthodox tactics and unorthodox stratagems. Though the young man lacked actual battlefield experience, Enrique believed that if anyone deserved to be called a genius in the perilous theater of war, it was Agrippa.
But... this is still a gamble.
It was true that they were at a disadvantage. However, if they held out in Wien while the armies of other cities captured the enemy's fortresses, the enemy would eventually be forced to choose between retreat and death. The enemy could not afford to linger near Wien forever.
Even if the conflict dragged on and the enemy shifted to capturing the Grand Duchy's cities one by one, they could negotiate a truce in the meantime. They could resolve it diplomatically, or secure aid from the Grand Duke's maternal family to deal with them. Enrique knew well that if the war became a war of attrition, the enemy would have no choice but to withdraw.
What he did not know, however, was that Deviang and Agrippa had rejected this "safe" path precisely because they knew it would drown the Grand Duchy in insurmountable debt.
"This is a gamble," Enrique repeated.
Agrippa replied, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "It is no gamble. The enemy commander, Philip, is a highly capable man."
Enrique nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Though he does not belong to the Grand Duchy, he has fought in numerous campaigns, achieving brilliant results each time."
Agrippa's voice rang with absolute certainty. "Which is precisely why he has no choice but to take the bait. Just watch."
At that moment...
A crimson sphere plunged from the sky toward their soldiers.
Boom!
The earth gouged open as the magic struck the vanguard spearmen. Watching the impact, Agrippa smiled.
"A probing attack. Well, it is only polite to respond in kind."
A brief silence fell.
"All forward spearmen, disperse!"
At those words, Enrique felt a deep, sinking despair.
The two armies stood face-to-face, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.
Philip, the commander-in-chief of the anti-Grand Duchy coalition, stared at the enemy's formation in sheer puzzlement.
"Strange..."
He fell into deep thought as he observed the heavily reinforced flanks and the conspicuously thin center of the enemy's line.
It is an absurdly aggressive formation, utterly reckless. In this situation, striking the center is the obvious move.
With the sea bordering the west, Philip noted that the Grand Duchy's famed cavalry would have no room to maneuver there. Indeed, all of the Grand Duchy's cavalry had been deployed to the east.
It is a good thing I anticipated this and positioned our spearmen and cavalry on the eastern flank beforehand.
Seeing that the enemy had also deployed a large number of spearmen to the east, Philip smiled to himself.
Still, this does not look like a formation designed by the valedictorian of the military academy, even if he lacks experience.
Was it sheer arrogance? Or was there something else at play?
Let us test the waters first.
"Mages, cast Fireball at the enemy."
At his command, the adjutant signaled with his hands, and the signal flags fluttered rapidly.
Soon after...
Brilliant spheres of flame rained down upon the enemy.
Boom!
As the thunderous explosions erupted, Philip watched the enemy's reaction with a relaxed composure.
Did they not deploy any defensive mages? It is standard practice to attach barrier mages to every unit to mitigate the impact of offensive spells...
He found it baffling that the enemy had taken a direct hit without a single defensive barrier.
Let us see how they respond. Well, what is your move?
Would they charge? Or would they bide their time?
At that moment, the spearmen holding the enemy's front line began to disperse into a scattered formation.
And then...
Boom!
Seeing a barrage of fireballs hurtling toward his own lines, Philip hastily barked out orders.
"Barrier magic! Erect the barriers!"
Even before Philip's command could ripple through the ranks, translucent shields manifested, absorbing the impact of the fireballs and reducing their power. The flames dissolved into harmless sparks in the air.
Philip stared at the magic pouring in from the west, lost in thought.
Their firepower is far greater than expected. Did they convert all their defensive mages to offense?
Faced with this unexpectedly high destructive power, Philip's mind began to calculate.
We can break through their center at any moment. And if their mages are concentrated on the west...
What utter foolishness. Of course, placing vital mages near the sea meant they only had to defend one side, which was technically textbook strategy.
But... if the weak center was breached, they would quickly be surrounded and forced to fight on three fronts. Furthermore, the risk of friendly fire would make it impossible for them to use powerful magic.
"Hmm... So he really is just an inexperienced greenhorn."
After visualizing various scenarios of the enemy's response, Philip made his decision.
"Adjutant, order the entire army to advance! Have the central cavalry target and strike the gaps where the enemy has dispersed!"
At his command, the adjutant signaled, and the flags fluttered.
As the banners waved grandly, the entire army began its slow, steady march forward. Philip rubbed his palms together, a smirk playing on his lips.
Now, let us see what you can do.
Behind the infantry, the cavalry began a slow trot. They threaded through the gaps in the foot soldiers, quickly taking the lead and forming a wedge formation.
And then...
Clatter, clatter!
Spurring their mounts to a gallop, the cavalry tucked their long lances under their arms and charged the scattered enemy.
When the tip of the wedge slammed into the dispersed spearmen, it tore through them with ease. Philip smiled inwardly.
To think this war would end so absurdly easily.
Soon, his infantry would pour through the breach to encircle the enemy's left flank. The enemy would desperately try to save their magic units on the left, but Philip's infantry would act as an anvil to hold them in place, while the cavalry that had penetrated the lines would swing around like a hammer, crushing the enemy infantry from behind.
At best, the only remaining threat was the enemy cavalry on the eastern flank.
Philip focused his gaze on them to see how they would move, only to widen his eyes in utter disbelief.
"Are they... targeting our mages now?"
The enemy's eastern forces were charging directly toward his own spearmen and cavalry.
It would make far more sense for them to try and rescue their endangered allies.
It was reckless—no, it was downright idiotic, Philip thought.
"Valedictorian, my foot... He is nothing but a fool. Cavalry and spearmen, hold the line and block the enemy's advance."
As he issued the command, the forces of the anti-Grand Duchy coalition clashed with the charging enemy, and the battle began in earnest.
How much time had passed?
Philip watched the enemy's western forces, who were holding out surprisingly well despite being surrounded.
They are under attack from three sides, yet they endure longer than expected. The quality of their commanders and soldiers is indeed exceptional.
But it was only a matter of time. Soon, fatigue would set in, and their lines would collapse. Their magic units would be annihilated, and the battle would be over.
"Adjutant, why has our cavalry not crushed the enemy yet?"
Though they were too far to see clearly, if the cavalry commander had any brains, he should have struck the enemy's rear and shattered their formation by now.
"Hmm... It is difficult to see from here, sir. But the Grand Duchy's soldiers are notoriously formidable, are they not? They seem to be putting up a good fight, but they will break soon."
No matter how high their quality, they are still infantry. There is a limit to how long they can hold out against cavalry.
Just as a seed of unease began to sprout in Philip's mind...
"C-Commander! C-Cavalry... I see cavalry in our rear!" the adjutant stammered in panic.
"Cavalry?"
Philip spun around.
As his eyes fell upon hundreds of knights clad in shimmering, dwarf-crafted golden armor, his face went completely blank, as if he had been struck squarely with a hammer.
"The... the Golden Knights? Why are they here?!"