There Is No Victory, But Neither Is There Defeat
It took some time for the units to reach the training grounds. Even for an academy capable of large-scale spatial teleportation through the power of the ruins, moving that many troops was apparently too much; the units had to ride on horseback to the designated location.
Rai, who would be teleported in once deployments were finished, spent the spare time with a map and the roster of participating academy students spread open in front of him, studying them at length.
For the exercise, everyone's starting positions were public knowledge. Rai marked where the student units were stationed and sat in silence for a long while, thinking. The drill was about to begin, and he still hadn't said a word about his plan. Philia, unable to stand the wait, spoke first.
"What are you going to do?"
"What's Eisen from Class D like?"
Still not answering her, Rai pointed at Eisen's unit and asked.
"He's diligent and thoughtful. Good grades, and he has enough presence of mind to look around him — he coordinates well with the people nearby."
Rai nodded at Philia's assessment, then looked at Abigail. She ignored the look that clearly said your turn for a long moment, but when he kept staring, she finally cracked.
"A coward who just reads the room."
Philia frowned at the insult directed at a fellow student. Rai, however, nodded at Abigail's words too, planted a small flag on Eisen's unit, and asked:
"What about Delia from Class A?"
At Rai's question, Philia described her: bright, passionate, the kind of person who always took the first step — proud and self-assured.
Abigail's take was a little different.
"A dumbass who doesn't even know her own skull's empty and still runs her mouth."
Having heard both opinions, Rai planted a flag on Delia's unit as well. After going through every student that way, he sank back into thought, and Philia couldn't hold her curiosity.
"Why did you ask all that?"
"What do you think you need to know to win?"
He answered a question with a question. It was irritating, but Philia answered in earnest.
"The enemy's numbers, their unit types, the geography of the battlefield, and information on the commander."
"And what does 'information on the commander' include?"
"Service record, preferred tactics, information on their attached officers... that sort of thing?"
"And after that?"
"...Personality?"
After a moment's hesitation, she answered without much conviction. Rai nodded — that was right.
The reason she hadn't been confident was that tactics aren't made by one person alone. A plan as crude as the commander's hotheaded, so let's bait him simply doesn't work. The many officers under a commander know their own strengths and weaknesses, and they predict how the enemy will act. Across countless contingencies, a pattern of response is decided before the battle even begins.
A finely wrought battle plan is like a cold machine — no room in it for personal temperament.
When Philia voiced her disagreement, not quite grasping it, Abigail beside her scoffed.
"Rookie."
"What did you just say?"
"You think war ticks along like clockwork? Ah — you've never moved anything but chess pieces, have you? Must've been fun, winning on a fixed board with fixed rules. Exciting, right?"
Philia's face went rigid at those red eyes, narrowed in mockery.
"When's your Tactical Training? I'll change the date. Want to go a round with this rookie?"
"Why would I? I don't give a damn about this annoying drill. This guy dragged me here, I already got my points, I'm done."
"So you're running?"
"Puhahaha! That's what you call a taunt? This is why spoiled little ladies don't cut it."
Abigail laughed out loud. For someone who usually sat in silence with a scowl, the sight was rare.
Philia's hand twitched near her sword hilt, advertising her fury. Abigail's gaze was just as blatant — go on, draw it — and she slowly lowered her own hand toward her blade.
"Kids, if you're going to do something stupid, take it outside. You're giving me a headache."
Still studying the map, Rai waved them off like they were a nuisance. Both girls turned away with sour looks.
Then the door opened, and academy staff Dudley and Hana came in. Both had been present for Rai's exam, and Dudley in particular was familiar — he'd trained alongside Philia.
"Good afternoon, Instructor Rai."
"Oh, Mr. Dudley, you're evaluating? I'll be in your care."
"I wouldn't dare evaluate you, Instructor. I'm just a Porter walking around with a familiar."
Dudley answered, showing the bird on his shoulder.
"I was originally assigned, but Senior Dudley muscled his way in."
"Hana!"
Hana turned her head with a pout and started whining. Dudley yelped her name in a panic, then looked at Rai with an embarrassed face.
"Um... I wanted to see your tactics, Instructor... if it wouldn't be an imposition..."
Dudley looked so bashful it was almost like a confession. Philia turned her head, mortified.
"The more the merrier, as far as I'm concerned. Miss Hana, I'll be in your care as well."
"Yes~ Pleasure working with you~"
Some private handshake of theirs: Rai raised a hand, Hana high-fived him, then they high-fived with their elbows, then slapped palms this way and that like they were dancing. They even bumped the soles of their feet together at the end. Everyone around them stared blankly. Rai and Hana didn't care in the slightest.
Once unit deployment was complete, Rai was teleported to his position.
In a clearing in the forest, the soldiers he'd seen earlier stood in proud ranks. Rai grinned, asked the man in front for his pack, set it down, and said:
"Everyone, set your packs down in front of you."
"Ahhh—!! What is he doing? Instructor Rai just opened a pack and started pulling things out! And the soldiers are doing the same! Instructor Leila, our commentator — what's your take?"
Leila sat beside the host with a sour look, as if she'd been dragged there against her will.
"He's dumping the supplies."
"Whaaaat?! The supplies? Why would he throw them away? I don't get it — is this some kind of brilliant scheme?"
Leila clearly didn't care for the high-energy host. She stared at him in silence for a moment, then, under the pressure of his frantic glances toward the audience begging her to say something, she let out a small sigh and answered.
"He's lightening the load to increase marching speed. It also conserves stamina, which favors mobile tactics."
"Yes! Mobile tactics! As you all know, that's General Georg, Commander of the Northern Army's specialty! But aren't those things they actually need? Is it really all right to just throw them away?"
At the host's look demanding another explanation, Leila — having apparently given up — answered immediately.
"The supplies the soldiers are carrying right now are the standard kit for going to war. Camping gear, situational weapons and equipment — it's all in there. The exercise ends at seven. He's keeping only what they'll need for the day and dumping the rest."
"Ohh— so he's assuming the war is already at its endgame and maximizing the unit's capability? Wow— what an astonishing tactic! That's our Instructor for you!"
"Anyone could do it."
"Ah! Even as we speak, student Cesset has started emptying her pack the same way Instructor Rai is!"
Leila's last remark was buried under the host's shouting. On the central screen, Cesset was dumping her gear just like Rai.
"Like master, like student, perhaps? Miss Cesset, acting identically from the very start!! That's what you get when you're taught by the Academy's outstanding instructors!"
"That guy's so fucking loud."
Aslan scowled at the host. The over-the-top Academy boosterism grated, and the forced energy was annoying. He grumbled and took a drink.
"What? It's fun."
"Shit— you scared me."
Diana had leaned in close. Aslan nearly toppled out of his chair, barely catching his balance. She cackled at him, sat down beside them, and waved goodbye to a group of students in the distance.
She looked like she'd been sitting with students she didn't even know before coming over to Aslan. She sat down as naturally as if they'd planned it, then reached for Zeroa's drink.
"G-go ahead."
Diana pointed at the glass without a word, beaming. Zeroa nodded. She drank like she'd been thirsty, then set the glass back in front of him.
"Whew— thank god there was a seat. I thought I was going to die, stuck in that crowd."
"You sat down like you owned the place."
"Aww, don't be like that with me. Oh — here, here. This is the side I drank from."
Still talking to Aslan, Diana noticed Zeroa staring at the glass. She grinned and turned the rim she'd put her mouth on toward him.
"I-I wasn't thinking anything like th...at..."
"Hmm? Thinking what?"
Diana leaned in toward Zeroa with an innocent face and a sly little smile. When she tilted, a glimpse of cleavage showed through the gap, and Zeroa flushed and looked away. Diana knew exactly what she was doing and pretended not to, teasing him about what he'd been thinking.
"Stop teasing the innocent kid and sit properly."
"Eh? Then maybe I'll go over to Aslan~"
This time she leaned toward Aslan, who panicked and shoved his chair back. Finding the reaction hilarious, Diana covered her mouth and laughed, then snatched Aslan's drink.
"Then this one's mine!"
"...Do whatever you want."
Giggling, she drank — then looked at the host, who was shouting with passion.
"AAAAHH!! What's this?! The students aren't fighting each other! Did that earlier provocation unite them as one?!!! Flare one! Two! Three! FOOOUR! Did they agree on this in advance?! The students are chasing Instructor Rai's unit! Take down the strongest enemy first — what an excellent tactic!!!"
"Okay, yeah, he's getting a little annoying."
Every sentence ended with excellent tactic from a man who clearly didn't know what he was talking about. Diana looked at the host like he was an idiot, and Aslan nodded. Watching the students chase Rai's unit to the soundtrack of that noisy commentary, Diana turned her head and grinned.
"Where'd you two put your money?"
Gambling. An event this big couldn't go without it. It wasn't just about money — it was a chance to prove your own analytical skill as a student. Most people bet something, large or small.
"I didn't bet, but one thing's certain — Raikkang's going to lose."
"Eh? I bet on him winning."
"You seriously think he can win with that numbers gap? Fourteen units. That's fourteen to one. He'll put up a fight, but he can't beat all of them. The soldiers are the same quality — how does he win?"
"I just liked the odds."
Diana answered with a smile that could make someone fall for her, then looked at the silent Zeroa. He was still staring at the glass. Her gaze startled him into stammering.
"Ah, th-that's not..."
"You can put your mouth on it all you want. More importantly — Zeroa, where'd you bet?"
"Ah... I... I did bet, but it wasn't really me who... Instructor Rai told me to..."
The two of them waited with glittering eyes for him to finish. The fact that Rai — who was actually competing — had placed a bet filled Diana with anticipation. Even if Bright always caught him afterward and he lost every last coin, Rai had never been wrong yet.
"I bet on a draw."
"..."
"Huh...? There's a draw?"
"Yes. I didn't know either, but there is."
Aslan and Diana went silent at Zeroa's answer. Fifteen units were in the exercise. It was a scoring drill based on attacking each other — there might be a joint victory, but there was no such thing as a draw.
For a draw, every unit would have to survive until the exercise ended. That was never going to happen, so nobody bet on a draw.
But Rai had bet on the impossible. The two of them sat thinking, then slowly stood up.
Leaving Zeroa sitting there in confusion, Diana smiled and said:
"We're gonna go place a bet real quick. Hold our seats."
"Be right back, Zeroa."
They didn't even wait for Zeroa's reply — they took off running.
So few people bet on it that most didn't even know a draw was an option. If Rai was right and it came down to a draw, they could make a fortune overnight. This time the number of possible outcomes was so high that multiple bets were allowed, so Aslan and Diana ran to put down even a little money.
"Shall we take those cocky brats down a peg?"
Rai, who'd been fleeing the pursuing students, turned back to his unit with a smile. The other units were moving like they meant business. They were driving him like game — blocking paths from every direction, pressing his unit — and still he looked at ease.
"Hersel, Rice, Guwanna...."
Names of soldiers spilled from Rai's mouth. Ten of them stepped forward, and Philia found their faces familiar. They were the ones who'd spoken up when Rai, over beer, had asked who the most senior soldiers were. She didn't remember all of them, but a few faces she did.
"Right. Too many enemy commanders, so I've appointed additional officers. Congratulations on your promotions."
Rai clapped and grinned, but the soldiers looked at each other, bewildered. More officers didn't mean more soldiers. And even for veterans, an officer's post wasn't something you just handed out.
"Then I'll give Hersel the first order. Take twenty soldiers and move along this route."
Rai handed over a copied map as he gave the order. The soldier called Hersel stared at the map blankly, then answered late and loud, and peeled off from the unit with his men.
Watching Hersel's detachment recede, Philia looked at Rai.
"What's the point of that?"
"Well, isn't that for the other kids to figure out?"
Rai smiled, infuriatingly.
However many units there were, each had three hundred troops — forty-two hundred in total. That wasn't enough to form a perfect encirclement. The students understood that, and at first they were blocking paths and pursuing, trying to herd Rai's unit in one direction.
But now a group had split off and was heading for a gap in the net. The students, who had no way of knowing the situation, would have no choice but to wonder whether they should chase it.
At Rai's confident words, Philia nodded and followed.