Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Betrayed General Betrays
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In any organization where people gather, situations where social skills matter more than ability are all too common.
Employees with outstanding talent who can't get promoted because of poor relationships, or people demoted for crossing the wrong parachute appointee.
That social skills are crucial is a fact proven throughout history.
A prime example from Romance of the Three Kingdoms: Zhang He served under Han Fu, Yuan Shao, and Cao Cao, but he finally received proper treatment in the state of Wei, his last stop.
He was even included in the term "Five Elite Generals," referring to the five most capable commanders.
On the other hand, Lü Bu, based on the novel, served under Ding Yuan and Dong Zhuo before seeking refuge with Liu Bei—three lords in total—yet he's reviled as an icon of betrayal both in his time and ours.
In Romance of the Three Kingdoms games, he's a powerhouse with 100 in martial prowess that you can't overlook, but his reputation is abysmal by comparison.
In my view, the biggest difference between them was their social savvy.
Unlike Zhang He—who was absorbed into Yuan Shao's forces after Han Fu's downfall, labeled a traitor by Yuan Shao first, and then surrendered to Cao Cao—Lü Bu personally took the lead in killing Ding Yuan and Dong Zhuo.
Liu Bei took in the fleeing Lü Bu, but the moment Liu Bei stepped away, Lü Bu betrayed him and seized Xuzhou.
In the end, Zhang He died honorably on the battlefield as a Wei general to the very last, while Lü Bu was captured, begged Cao Cao for his life, and was executed.
So when I suddenly found myself dropped into a strategy game world, after tasting bitterness early on due to my ignorance, I naturally focused most on honing my social skills.
You can't conquer the world—or anything else—if you're dead, right?
I wasn't a good person by any stretch, but I worked hard not to end up like Lü Bu, rejected purely on reputation.
"His Majesty orders your arrest."
"..."
Even when the kingdom I first served discarded me, I didn't act rashly.
I didn't like the kingdom, but showing it would cast doubt on my loyalty itself.
I played the part of the wronged yet dignified loyalist facing exile.
That image of surrendering for peace without resistance helped build my reputation later in the empire.
"Fine, I approve."
"Thank you."
"If you fail, your head rolls. That's all right with you?"
"Yes."
The emperor had it out for me in many ways, but groveling would weaken every opinion I'd ever offer from then on.
I hid my trembling hands and stood tall.
After several of my advice proved successful, the emperor stopped threatening to take my head.
"...I'll surrender."
"Why come to me specifically to say that?"
"I've heard you're the real power in the empire."
"That's not true."
When a chance came to greatly bolster my own power, I recalled Han Xin, who unified the central plains only to be sidelined and executed.
What I wanted was world conquest, not the emperor's throne, so I flatly refused various offers.
Eventually, weird people stopped approaching me.
"Fine, you win. You win! Do whatever you want!"
"...What exactly do you mean by—"
"Argh! Do I have to spell it out?!"
Even when the enemy kingdom's queen burst into my quarters ranting strangely, it was the same.
I knew even a defeated nation's leader could hold grudges, so I persuaded her through a long conversation.
"I-I'll come back next time!"
She'd arrived red-faced and furious but left somewhat calmer.
Like this, even in this scary world, with my diligently polished social skills and minimap, I fear nothing.
People have always been the scariest thing.
"After the meeting, come to the rear garden."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Then..."
"Alone."
"...Understood."
...I fear nothing!
Grand strategy games.
Games where you pick one of many nations and aim for world conquest.
Series like Romance of the Three Kingdoms and Civilization are prime examples.
My father loved these kinds, so I devoured every grand strategy game out there.
While friends played stuff like Legend of Battle or leaf-themed games, I went home to run a country.
Painting the map in my nation's colors was pure joy, and eventually, I could clear even first-time games with ease.
Then The Great War launched.
Despite the World War I connotation, it featured a fantasy world with orcs, elves, dragons, and such—unique for including tactical control of unit-based troops.
Every battle rated my tactics as "decisive victory" or similar, so replaying fights for top scores was addictive fun.
I mainly played the mighty Dragonia Empire, despite its heavy penalties, starting from big leagues.
From mediating noble-emperor faction power struggles early on to fend off invasions, to conquering the world with a perfected empire—everything thrilled me.
In the end, most of my thousands of hours went to empire playthroughs.
Instead of trying every nation, I dove deep into the empire.
I researched empire-specific tactics with unique troops, key figures' lore—every detail.
...In hindsight, I should've tried more other nations.
I woke up in this game world with zero warning.
And not in the empire—in another country.
I awoke in the Ruth Kingdom, hugging the empire's northern border.
Lacking resources, population, and tech, with irrational, incompetent leadership.
How does a country like this even exist?
Simple: Ruth Kingdom is unplayable—a stepping stone for the Dragonia Empire's tutorial.
A new emperor ascends amid chaos; Ruth provokes with border skirmishes. When kingdom troops cross, imperial lords respond, sparking the "Northern War."
This war is the empire campaign's tutorial in The Great War.
Surprisingly, tutorial Ruth can't even beat the empire's border vassals in the first fight.
Mop up remnants, nobles gain power via merits, sparking emperor-noble strife—tutorial ends, unlocking the empire's "Imperial Power" system.
That's right.
Ruth Kingdom is doomed to fall right as the game truly begins.
...I'd become 16-year-old orphan Victor.
Of all nations, landing in Ruth was horrific.
Defeat means just swapping flags for commoners, no big deal—but Ruth has a nasty late-tutorial event.
"Forced Conscription" slashes population but spawns hordes of low-morale, unequipped peasant levies.
Annoying enemy fodder in-game; in reality, I could be one—pitched in peasant rags with a sickle against mounted knights.
I racked my brain to escape the kingdom somehow.
Comfort: I got a minimap like in-game.
Leave this dead-end nation, leverage my knowledge and minimap for greatness—that was the plan.
After deep thought, I decided to use this country as my springboard.
Make a name anywhere to dodge levy, then jump ship at the right moment.
Seemed odd, but game lords eagerly used surrendered talent—no impossibility.
I enrolled in the Officer Academy.
Tactics suited me better than simplified interior affairs—direct unit control showed my skills.
It wasn't easy.
Topping entrance didn't help; in an academy dominated by well-fed, well-bred nobles, I was always the outsider.
Professors pandered to nobles, ignoring me; other commoners envied or shunned me.
No matter my class, wargame, or tactics exam performance.
"Proving it with skill" was hubris.
I blamed origins, narrow-minded peers—nothing changed.
Despite never losing top spot in four years, I got posted to some remote mountain backwater.
Not even runner-up nobles or bottom-scoring commoners got such blatant dead-end assignments.
Here, I realized what I lacked.
Social skills.
Not ability—social skills.
I wasn't arrogant about talent; even laying low quietly would've been better.
From then, I revisited forgotten lessons hard.
Drew much from Romance of the Three Kingdoms figures especially.
Bonus insight: My ever-present minimap corner wasn't just positions—it was a tactical map, letting me directly command subordinates.
Issue orders instantly to troops mid-battle, sans flags or horns—huge edge. Any skill doubts vanished.
I could wait confidently.
Four years in the boonies passed.
Knowing war loomed, I prepped maximally without drawing eyes.
Self-funded supplies, trained troops.
Also tracked news to stay current: newspapers, tavern inn rumors.
Mended relations too—my rep far better than academy days.
Troops obeyed well; no clashes with officers.
Prepping campaign launch, suddenly the "Northern War" erupted.
Two years later.
I'd planned to flee at the right time.
Somehow, I ended up Ruth Kingdom's acting supreme commander.