Chapter 195
Chapter 195
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 195
Chapter Title: 60. Lighting the Fire (1)
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I tried my damnedest to stay seated, but my impatience had my butt fidgeting restlessly.
In the end, I couldn't take it anymore and shot up from my chair.
"Your Highness. Sometimes you need to learn how to wait."
Malkoi gave me a stern look, telling me to sit still for once. I forced myself back down, only to leap up again moments later.
"I have to go now. If I hurry, I can catch up to the ones who left first and lend them my strength."
"It's already been four days since they departed. How do you plan to catch them?"
Malkoi sighed and tried to dissuade me.
"Besides, I've told you time and again—only if Your Highness holds the fortress steady can those who left fight without worry."
I repeated the cycle endlessly: sit, stand, sit, stand.
It was like sitting on a bed of nails.
I'd been pacing like that anxiously for quite a while when footsteps echoed from outside the meeting room.
"Your Highness!"
"Come in!"
No sooner had I spoken than the defense captain burst through the door.
"What happened?"
I fired off the question without even catching my breath, and the captain grinned broadly.
"Lady Arwen reports that she's crushed an enemy legion and is heading south as planned!"
"And Ilai?"
"Young Master Ilai raided the enemy's supply base and racked up major gains!"
Victories pouring in one after another—I clenched my fist tight.
"Ahh."
Malkoi swayed and slumped into his chair.
He'd scolded me for not knowing how to wait patiently, but clearly he'd been just as on edge.
"All our forces have infiltrated the enemy's rear smoothly, and a good chunk of the enemy is turning back to deal with the chaos back there."
"How many?"
"Out of the 31 legions marching toward the border, about ten have reversed course."
At those words, I couldn't help but glance at Malkoi.
It was exactly as he'd predicted.
Malkoi had said that if our three legions infiltrated the rear, at least ten of the Empire's 31 legions advancing on the border would have to turn back.
He'd explained it was due to the Imperial doctrine of always deploying at least three times the enemy's numbers for guaranteed victory, and also because the nobles with territories near the border numbered just about that many.
"Moving three legions to turn back ten— that's no losing deal."
"This is just the beginning."
Malkoi's face grew deadly serious.
"The operation's success hinges on how well our forces perform in the rear. And while they're stirring up trouble back there, the Kingdom's border has to hold firm. If the border crumbles, everything goes up in smoke."
From here on out, every moment would be a critical turning point, he reiterated, laying out the plan once more.
"Common sense for defenders is to shorten the front lines to make holding easier, but that would just mean losses for the Kingdom alone. Unlike our Kingdom, where everything's ground to a halt for the war, the Empire's industries are still humming along right now."
It felt less like he was explaining to others and more like he was reminding himself, double-checking the plan's flaws.
"If we leave things as they are, the Kingdom won't lose on the battlefield, but we'll eventually buckle under the massive military spending and collapse from within. My homeland, the Marseille Kingdom, withered away just like that."
I retraced the plan in my own mind as I listened.
Reinforcements from the rear formations had arrived steadily, bringing our deployed forces at the border to 15 legions—nearly 30,000 men.
Added to the 5,000 with the King on the eastern fleet front, the Kingdom's total active troops numbered around 35,000.
Compared to the Empire's 47 legions mobilized against us, it was less than half. Against their total forces, it was barely a handful.
And just operating that handful was already straining the Kingdom's finances to the breaking point.
If we hadn't declared independence and seized assets from over a hundred noble houses, the national treasury would've collapsed long ago. But even those seized funds weren't infinite.
Proof came in a letter from the Grand Marshal.
No more troops could be spared for the front. We had to hold the Imperials with what we had.
We were in a situation where 15 legions, heavy on conscripts, had to block 31 enemy legions approaching the border.
It wouldn't be easy, but with the defensive advantage, it wasn't impossible.
In fact, our forces had so far held the border like an iron wall despite the overwhelming numerical disadvantage.
But at best, that would buy us a year, maybe two. In a war of attrition, the Kingdom would lose in the end.
As Malkoi said, unlike our Kingdom, which had restructured everything for war, the Empire was maintaining its peacetime systems everywhere except the war zones.
"The Kingdom has to expand the front lines somehow, forcing the Empire to bleed resources."
Malkoi pressed on in a deliberately calm tone.
"Fortunately, the Kingdom has advantages over the Empire. Our army moves for one purpose alone, but the Imperials don't. Each legion commander leads a different faction, with varying political stances."
Having served as an Imperial legion commander for years, he knew their rot better than anyone.
Commanders from rival factions checked each other, and in extreme cases, even a single legion might split into two warring factions.
"That's the chink in the Empire's armor we need to exploit."
The key was to create a situation where enemy commanders, driven by conflicting goals, had to act separately.
Sending our troops to the rear to pull legions tied to border nobles off the front was part of that.
Now, the remaining task was splitting up the enemy's twenty-odd legions, and Malkoi had plans ready for that too.
All we had to do was wait for results.
But sitting idle just wasn't my style.
Especially not when my subordinates were deep in enemy territory, risking their lives on perilous missions.
I wanted nothing more than to grab my sword and charge into battle right then.
Of course, that wasn't possible.
Malkoi wouldn't just stand by if I bolted from the fortress.
"The Leonberger royals have a bad habit of courting danger too much."
"The Dottruments aren't much better."
I mentioned the Dottrument royals, father and son nicely heading to the Empire's heartland together, and Malkoi snorted.
"You're joking, right?"
Cynicism filled Malkoi's face.
"The biggest beneficiaries of the Leonberg Kingdom's war are the Dottrin Kingdom folk. The Empire's eyes are fixed on us, which is why Dottrin's territory is still safe."
He ranted about how cunning the Dottrin king was.
"Knights of the Sky, was it? Same with them. You might think the Kingdom's getting their help, but really, they're just using our troops in place of their own. You could say they're fighting a proxy war by tossing in one knight order. The Kingdom's being played."
His words were sharp enough to cut, and I just shrugged.
To be fair, Malkoi wasn't entirely wrong.
Indeed, Dottrin hadn't committed anything beyond the Knights of the Sky.
Part of it was that the Full Moon Clan and Lord of Plagues had seized the rivers, blocking land routes—but if they really wanted, it wasn't impossible.
Still, Malkoi's take was a bit overboard.
Naturally so.
To Malkoi, ignorant of the Soaring Heavens Marquess lineage, the Knights of the Sky were just a knight order with fancy flying dragon mounts.
But contrary to his view, they were far more than that.
Not only were their individual strengths exceptional, but their mobility was the continent's finest.
And their leader, the current head of the Dottrument house, was a true monster who could devour several knight orders single-handedly.
Translating that to combat power, they were worth at least three legions plus a Penta knight order.
But even after I explained it that way, citing Penta knights I'd never seen myself, it didn't seem to click for Malkoi.
He responded with a lukewarm "I see" and quickly changed the subject.
"What worries me most is the Emperor's intentions."
He fretted that if the Emperor willed it, unifying the Empire's fractured legions under one goal would be child's play, and he couldn't fathom why they were just brute-forcing it like this.
He had a point.
I knew the Emperor had that kind of power.
But I suspected this mess wasn't his doing.
Malkoi asked for the basis of my hunch.
"Wait and see. It'll be clear once the rangers return from scouting."
And a day later, the scouting rangers finally came back.
"The enemy's overall commander is a direct member of the Burgundy Imperial House."
"Which one?"
"They're not flying banners, probably wary of Flying Dragon Knight raids, so we can't tell yet."
I immediately sent Yorden out to identify the prince.
A sharp-eyed ranger who'd been with me to the Imperial capital could spot which prince it was from afar.
Yorden returned soon after.
His face was brighter than I'd ever seen.
Just looking at it set my heart racing, like I'd heard welcome news about a dear comrade.
"Which one?"
Yorden grinned and replied,
"It's that guy."
The very one I'd been waiting for.
I laughed.
I was that overjoyed.
"Who the hell is this guy that's got you two so excited?"
Malkoi, not following our exchange, scowled and demanded.
"The hope of all who oppose the Empire."
The direct Burgundy scion I'd lavished merits on during Dottrin's defense war, fretting he'd get hurt.
"The epitome of incompetence and greed."
"No way..."
Malkoi, catching on late, stared at me.
I quietly held up three fingers.
"That's right. The 3rd Imperial Prince."
The Empire's disaster I'd nurtured for years
had finally shown himself on the Kingdom's battlefield.
I was thrilled.