Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: The Betrayed General Betrays
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After the battle ended and the Empire's officers had roughly tidied up the battlefield, they gathered in the command tent to tally the results.
The officers, who hadn't even wiped the blood from their armor, leaned back in their chairs with weary bodies, but their eyes were brimming with vitality.
"The 10th Legion's total casualties are 4,829, with 1,439 dead."
"The 8th Legion suffered 1,189 deaths and 3,291 wounded, for a total of 4,480 casualties."
The Empire's losses were mainly from the 10th Legion infantry, who bore the brunt of the enemy's initial charge, and the 8th Legion, who endured the central pressure alongside them until the kingdom's forces were fully neutralized.
The kingdom had deployed what they considered elite troops at the vanguard, but it wasn't enough to break through the Empire's elite heavy infantry, whose sole purpose was to hold and retreat.
"The 1st Provisional Legion suffered 472 casualties, with 117 dead."
The 1st Provisional Legion, which had waited in the rear before supporting the 10th and 8th Legions, faced a kingdom force whose momentum had already been broken, so their losses were light.
"Combining the cavalry's overall losses! 51 dead, 134 wounded!"
Since the enemy cavalry had swiftly chosen to retreat, the cavalry unit—mostly conscripts defending the rear—suffered negligible losses from their raid.
"Total casualties: 9,966. Dead: 2,796..."
Gerhard was astonished that, despite facing over 1.5 times their number on open plains, they had wrapped it up with losses under 25 percent.
"Now, the enemy's casualty report."
But it was too early for his surprise, as Victor himself began reporting the enemy's losses.
"The enemy's total force was around 65,000. Of them, about 30,000 dead, 15,000 wounded. Roughly 30,000 captured. The enemy cavalry escaped with minimal losses."
"...Good grief."
Gerhard let out a low sigh at the report that half the kingdom's army was dead and the other half captured.
"This was an unavoidable outcome. The 10th and 8th Legions had to weather the enemy's assault at its peak..."
"That's not what I meant, Vice Commander Victor."
Victor, assuming Gerhard's sigh was over the concentrated losses in the 10th and 8th Legions, began to explain apologetically, but Gerhard carefully cut him off.
"With 65,000 enemies, how could we have zero losses? What I couldn't quite put into words was..."
"..."
Victor cautiously scanned the faces of the gathered officers.
The silent officers fidgeted as if holding back words, while Anna, standing at the back, watched him with a deep smile.
And Gerhard said,
"This... ha. Words fail me. I've seen countless battlefields, but I've never witnessed such overwhelming results."
With the brightest smile imaginable, he approached Victor and clapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm thrilled that such a capable general serves the Empire. I can already look forward to the stories you'll write from here on."
"...Thank you, Commander."
With Gerhard taking the lead, the other officers and staff rose and gathered around Victor.
"Did you intend this outcome from the moment you advanced the center?"
"Well... yes."
"I wondered why you held back some forces in the rear despite our numerical disadvantage, but now it makes perfect sense—their role was crucial!"
"..."
"Incredible as always!"
"...This victory came from all of your efforts."
The officers showered Victor—who wore a subtle expression—with praise, and the staff approached with questions. He answered each one thoughtfully, as if pondering something.
Though it varied by situation, the common wisdom was that in a plain-field battle between infantry-heavy forces, numbers held the advantage.
The officers, who had braced for heavy casualties, praised Victor's tactical insight and command, while the staff bombarded him with questions about the operation's finer details.
"Loosening the cavalry encirclement at the end induced chaos in their ranks. I think that final maneuver allowed us to annihilate them without extra losses."
"And keeping that exit narrow while the waiting cavalry outside picked off the escapees—that was masterful."
"Even deploying the infantry in a simple straight line proved effective."
Some, instead of approaching Victor, analyzed his strategy with awe.
"Hm..."
Gerhard watched his officers with a pleased expression.
With the enemy king and his key commanders captured, he considered the war with the kingdom effectively over.
The kingdom no longer had the strength to refuse the Empire's terms.
After that would come the Emperor's rewards and promotions.
"...It won't take long."
Gerhard planned to retire and step aside the moment Victor was poised to become the Empire's symbol.
With all the officers now recognizing Victor's feats, he believed that day was near.
Watching Victor from his seat beside him,
-Clap!
"Alright, you all seem to have plenty more questions, but save that talk for after the work's done. We're departing for Saint Touar tomorrow, so finish cleaning the battlefield and prepare camp."
"Yes, sir!"
"Understood!"
He clapped to draw the officers' attention and calm their excitement.
"You're in charge of battlefield cleanup."
"Yes."
"Brigade Commander Klaus, prepare tents for the prisoners."
"Yes, Commander."
He assigned roles to the officers,
"I think we can savor the joy of victory after reaching Saint Touar. What say you?"
"Agreed."
"Right you are, Commander!"
"Good, thank you. Stay grounded and finish strong. Meeting adjourned."
and dismissed the officers from the tent.
"I'll take my leave as well."
"Mm."
Victor, who had been staring blankly at the documents with an inscrutable expression, bid Gerhard farewell and naturally exited the tent.
Alone in the now-empty tent, he mulled over the battle results.
"..."
It was a given outcome.
I'm no genius with Hannibal-level strategic brilliance, tactical acumen, or command prowess, but I have the minimap and tactical map, plus millennia of humanity's accumulated war experience.
Besides, the Roman legionaries Hannibal faced at Cannae were soldiers drilled for months, while mine were barely armed civilians who couldn't even form ranks.
Even their so-called elites were laughable compared to the Empire's troops, so their offensive crumbled quickly, and their formations collapsed far faster.
Solving an easier problem with the answers in hand practically guarantees a better score than Hannibal.
-Snap! Snap!
Of course, that doesn't mean I shouldn't rejoice in the victory.
The Empire had won a great triumph, after all.
With Guillaume's main force crushed and him plus the kingdom's top brass captured, a peace treaty with Brotan Kingdom was imminent.
"...Woooaaah!"
"...Still... cleaning..."
"...We... won't lose..."
Even inside the tent, faint cheers from the soldiers filtered in.
Rejoicing was the natural response for any soldier.
Several junior officers and rank-and-file had approached me, sharing how brutal the battle was and how thrilled they were to claim victory.
Even Gerhard and the other officers hadn't hidden their joy.
-Snap!
"Ugh."
So why couldn't I share in that joy?
Why did the dying screams of the fallen drown out the cheers of the victorious?
"..."
He stared at his thumbnail, now bleeding from biting it too hard.
Was it because he'd lived a modern life far removed from death?
Unlike the perfect commander 'Victor' he portrayed, was his true self just a frail human?
Or because no blood stained his own hands?
-Snap! Snap! Snap!
Because the blood flowing on the battlefield wasn't his, but that of the allies who trusted and followed him?
Excuses piled up: placing the 8th and 10th Legions—not the 1st Provisional—in the center, where casualties were inevitable?
-Snap! Snap!
From the start, how could anyone find joy in war?
War brings death.
Enemy deaths are fine.
He'd long realized that once on the field, one must be resolute about foes' demise.
What he still couldn't get used to wasn't their deaths, but those of his allies—the men he'd spoken to just yesterday.
Victor, whose name matched his own and who'd grown dear; Ivan, a commoner like him who refused transfer because he liked him.
Georgi, who bragged he was the best fighter in his village; Ilya, who dreamed of writing poetry back home.
Anton, whose belongings were packed in his bag for the journey home.
And, and...
"Hoo... huu..."
Nothing came.
The names and faces of comrades he'd thought eternal were fading from memory.
It terrified him.
The fear that if he forgot them too, their existence would vanish entirely.
That by forgetting, forgetting, and forgetting again, he'd lose even his sense of responsibility and grow numb to death.
"Urgh..."
He resented his past self for choosing the Officer Academy so lightly, but there was no helping it now.
No turning back.
No letting go.
His hands were already stained with the blood of tens of thousands.
The name Victor had already climbed high atop mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
Didn't he know?
This world was designed for endless war, unrelated to his own will.
In such a world, all he could do was unify the continent swiftly and end the chaos.
To do that, he had to survive, even if soldiers died.
"...Urk. Uuugh."
He loathed himself for rationalizing his actions and survival instincts this way.
Yet part of him wondered if arming himself entirely with self-justification might be better.
Simply reveling in being called 'the genius general Victor,' excusing others' deaths as the world's fault.
Focusing on the results and gains he'd created.
Then he wouldn't need these un-Victor-like doubts.
...What would 'Victor' do?
The 'peerless genius general, Victor'?
"...Ah."
A green dot approached the tent on the minimap.
Anna, who had been handling duties outside.
His subordinates rarely entered the tent alone except for her.
-Rustle. Rustle.
He straightened up.
Wiped the blood from his mouth and hands, tidied the crumpled documents.
Refastened his buttons, smoothed his collar.
-Flutter.
"Mm, Anna. Duties wrapped up? If not, I can lend a hand."
He greeted Anna, entering the tent, just as always.
"...General."
"Hm?"
She called him in a low voice, eyes slightly downcast, and slowly walked toward him.