Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Extra Strategist's Royal Road
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This war between Caliper and Albad was drawing the attention of the entire continent.
There was only one major conflict underway, but more than that, Caliper faced the real possibility of annihilation.
With the continental balance certain to shift dramatically if Caliper fell, every nation had dispatched spies to monitor the war's progress.
So when word spread that Wade had appeared near Setes Crossroads, Caliper's allies buzzed with anticipation, convinced the kingdom had finally drawn its sword.
Sophia Veron, Bekavia's Chief of General Staff, wore a sour expression upon hearing the same news.
"Wade... Looks like the real deal this time."
It was easy to guess the Wade touted by the Salleon faction had been a fake.
That said, this one could be fake too—but no one believed Caliper would trot out an imposter in a situation this dire.
'As expected, Wade's tied to Crossing, Caliper, or both.'
She had narrowed the suspects based on clues and was tracking his identity, but the flood of imposters sowed chaos.
All it took to impersonate Wade was a helmet, so pretenders popped up everywhere, making his true movements impossible to pin down.
'And that's not all.'
Sophia was convinced Crossing or Caliper was deliberately muddying the waters with disinformation.
Otherwise, his identity wouldn't be this shrouded in mystery.
"Princess. Can Wade really turn the tide?"
At her adjutant Maculli's question, Sophia's face clouded over.
She wanted the man who'd bested her to avoid defeat—but that would doom her own plan.
"From our position, we can only hope he fails."
That way, Crossing's army facing her would divert to aid Caliper.
On Carrington Plains, facing Juras's 50,000 troops, Sophia saw no path to victory in a head-on clash.
"Then we're fine, Princess. Julian Craig is Albad's rising star, after all."
A prized disciple of Kaien alongside Gillas and Yussis, the strategic genius who rocketed to Madon Grand General.
Many hailed him as the next of the Ten Heroes.
The pundits dubbed his clash with Wade a supernova showdown.
*
*
*
Both sides geared up for full engagement.
Als led his 24,000 troops toward Setes Plains.
"Move it! Faster!"
"Get into formation! The enemy could strike any moment!"
As Caliper positioned its soldiers, Madon's army appeared about a kilometer away.
30,000 Madon troops.
At their fore rode a man in golden armor: Julian Craig.
He eyed Caliper's lines and grinned.
"Well, well. The real deal does feel different."
He sensed a sharp aura from Caliper's camp—an intangible pressure that promised brutal losses for any reckless charge.
"Let's see what you've got."
He brimmed with confidence.
Pundits called him and Wade supernovas, but Julian shrugged it off.
'A mere mercenary.'
He acknowledged the skill but rejected any claim of equality.
'Crushing Gillas? Humiliating Bekavia's genius princess? I could do that too.'
In Julian's mind, already on par with the Ten Heroes, facing Wade was mere entertainment.
He had solid grounds for that leisure: a tight intelligence network.
His spies had mapped Caliper's every move.
'Selecting expert archers, pulling warhorses and bows from nearby domains? Quite the flashy opener.'
Reading their intent effortlessly, Julian smirked and addressed his vanguard.
"Prepare for enemy raids. Polish those shields—it'll serve you well."
His men complied, puzzled but obedient, checking shields and formations.
An hour later, as both armies settled in, it began.
Thud-thud-thud!
Suddenly, a hundred Caliper cavalry charged from their lines.
"Enemy raid! Cavalry incoming!"
Julian's adjutant, Ruffneck, remarked,
"What's their game? Charging with just a hundred horse?"
"Not a charge, idiot."
"Huh?"
"Vanguard—shields up!"
At Julian's order, the cavalry shifted.
They veered sideways, drew bows, and loosed arrows at Madon.
Boom! Arrows slammed into shields. Horse momentum pierced some, wounding soldiers.
Eonia's archery was nothing short of miraculous.
"Hup!"
Pew! A pure white aura arrow thunked precisely between an officer's eyes leading the vanguard.
One shot, one kill—and at extraordinary speed.
By the time other archers emptied half a quiver, Eonia had reloaded a fresh one.
"Sir! We're taking heavy losses!"
"Looks that way. No wonder they fielded horse archers—they're confident. Got a master bowman in their ranks."
"We need countermeasures! Losses will mount!"
"Right. Demonic—ready?"
A sinister-faced man grinned.
"Of course, General. They'll regret sticking their necks out."
"Hmph. No arrogance."
"Yes, sir! First Archer Unit—ready!"
Snap! Madon's elite archers targeted the horse archers under Demonic's command.
Eonia scoffed at the telltale shift.
"Hmph! Arrows incoming! Out of range!"
The horse archers swiftly pulled beyond bowshot.
"Fire!"
Madon anticipated it, weaving an arrow net to snare them—but the cavalry escaped unscathed.
Except for Demonic's shot.
Scree! His navy-blue aura arrow pierced a mounted soldier's skull dead-on.
Accounting for the horse's 50 kph gallop, the accuracy defied belief.
"See that, you Caliper scum?"
Demonic smirked.
"Predict their paths—focus fire!"
He next aimed at a mid-pack horse's head.
"Hup!"
Pew! Thunk! The headless horse tumbled silently, tripping eight more riders in the chaos.
A hail of arrows rained on the fallen.
"Argh!"
"S-save...!"
No surviving that barrage. Eonia's cavalry dwindled.
Under Demonic's lead, Madon's archers gained momentum.
"We'll wipe them out! Don't fear those flyboys!"
Demonic, Madon's top archer and one of the continent's elite—among the Ten Great Archers, top ten by bow alone.
"Hahaha! Big entrance, but nothing special!"
But his crowing ended there.
His next arrows pierced nothing.
"What...?"
His shots vanished mid-flight.
He dismissed it as luck, loosed more—but crack! They were shot down.
"What the...!?"
Shooting arrows out of the air—a feat even he, a Ten Great Archer, couldn't match.
Eonia managed it effortlessly.
She even traced trajectories to pinpoint Demonic's and Julian's positions.
"...There."
She stared intently at Demonic's spot.
Then—clang-clang-clang! Amid blaring gongs, red-flagged arrows arced skyward from Caliper's main camp—Als's retreat signal.
Eonia bellowed,
"Withdraw as planned! Retrieve the wounded and fall back!"
The cavalry scooped up fallen comrades and retreated.
Then Eonia went rogue, solo wheeling her mount toward Madon lines.
"Yah!"
Thud-thud! Accelerating hard.
At peak speed, she nocked two arrows.
"Hah!"
Scree! Her full-power aura arrows tore the air toward Demonic and central Julian.
Demonic couldn't react. Even as an aura user, he paled against Eonia.
Horse momentum amplified the speed—bullet-like. Thunk! It blew through Demonic's head, pierced an armor-clad soldier behind, and lodged in his heart.
Distant Julian fared better.
"What!?"
Crash! He leaped from his horse in panic.
Thud! The arrow skewered his guard's head, embedding in the next man's armor.
"Tch, one miss."
Eonia clicked her tongue, retreating. Julian rolled red-faced with fury.
"Don't let her escape! All archers—loose! Down that idiot who got cocky! Cavalry—pursue!"
Pew-pew-pew! Arrow storm.
"Yah!"
Eonia's horsemanship shone masterful.
She leaned into a slide-turn—like riding sideways—dodging by a meter in the nick of time.
Thus, she evaded the volley by a hair and withdrew.
"Damn it!"
Clang! Julian hurled his helmet in rage.
Madon suffered 162 casualties in the horse archer raid, losing key officer Demonic—a sour start to the mind games.
*
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*
Back in Caliper's camp after the successful raid.
"Haa..."
Eonia knelt dejectedly.
Als hadn't ordered it, but childhood scolding habits kicked in.
"I told you—no freelance moves outside the plan."
"Sorry... I saw their key officer. Seemed like a golden chance..."
"You idiot. What if you'd died?"
"No excuses..."
"Listen. Even killing an enemy commander means nothing if you get hurt or killed. I'd hate that."
"Als..."
"Just follow my plan. No need to worry me."
"Yes, sir!"
Eonia brightened with a smile.
Als sighed, doubting she'd truly grasped it.
Illya, fresh from her unit, approached.
"Don't scold her too hard. She's doing it for you."
"That's why I'm saying it—the approach is wrong. Anyway, you got back quick. How'd the warhorse roundup go?"
"Well..."
"Not great?"
"Yeah. Bows we got, but horses? Barely any. They saw it coming."
"Expected."
Caliper's terrain—riddled with mountains—stunted cavalry development. Infantry dominated; basic cavalry only.
Domains rarely bred warhorses strategically.
They had pack mules aplenty, but combat mounts? Scarce.
Of the 24,000 troops, 2,000 cavalry—unusually high for Caliper, as other fronts were mountains, funneling all available horse to this plain.
"Isn't that trouble? Looks like you're planning horse archer tactics..."
"Huh? No."
"But that last stunt worked great."
"First strike via surprise. Second won't. Terrain's not vast enough for mass horse archers anyway."
"Then why..."
Order warhorses from other domains?
Als grinned toward Madon.
"A probe. Show them we're using cavalry—horse archers, precisely."
"Ah."
"Yeah. Forces their hand."
As Als predicted.
Madon reacted swiftly.
Julian ground his teeth.
The raid irked him, and a letter from a captured scout—penned by Als—stung worse.
It dripped mockery:
─Sorry if my girl spooked you. Heard you crawled pathetically. Nah, couldn't be. If so, I'll help hush it—can't have my foe known as a moron, or I'll catch the laughs too.
Wrapped in lofty diction.
"You bastard...!"
Julian knew it was bait, but rage boiled anyway.
A lesser groveling after one win? Infuriating.
Adjutant Ruffneck sighed,
"General, with Demonic dead, countering their horse archers gets tougher."
"Probably."
Their positions differed fundamentally.
Madon had to crush and occupy. Couldn't sit nibbled by horse archers.
"Hmph. Time to clip their wings."
Setes Crossroads wasn't that vast a plain, as Als noted.
"Entire army—advance! Close the distance!"
That nullified horse archer space.
They could flank Madon's rear with cavalry, but retreating from penetration would be dicey.
Horse archers needed arrow resupply—no prolonged ops without retreat.
Closing distance sealed their use.
Grand General Julian Craig's sharp read. Adjutants marveled.
"Brilliant, sir."
"Enemy's panicking—plain as day."
Inured to flattery, Julian fixed on Caliper's lines.
'Sealed the horse archers... Now, how to smash that.'
Als's defensive formation.
Central 20,000 infantry massed, 1,000 cavalry wings for mobility.
If Madon hit center, wings would flank.
'Tough nut... First, lure those wing cavalry out.'
Julian split 4,000 archers to each wing, backed by 4,000 infantry anti-charge. 6,000 per wing advanced to arrow range.
"Good—fire!"
Arrows pelted Caliper's wing cavalry.
Neigh! Hit horses bucked wildly; riders fell dead or wounded.
Madon hammered the flanks.
Eonia cried furiously,
"Lord Wade! Charge the cavalry now!"
A charge would force Madon to regroup.
Heavy wing commitments meant Caliper flanks tying Madon's, center advancing—Madon center exposed, forced to retreat and counter.
But Als held.
"That's what they want. Ignore it."
"But the men..."
Mostly Kurabel natives, Eonia's face crumpled.
Military Commander Ferradin, leading Kurabel troops—former third general of Kurabel theocracy, an elder—voiced frustration.
"This will tank morale."
"So?"
"So... We need a plan."
"You—Ferradin, right? What's most vital here?"
"Well..."
"Holding position. Our goal: defend the area. Falling for their bait is the real blunder."
Cold, but true.
"They're shooting to lure our pesky wing cavalry. You want us dancing to their tune?"
"Not exactly. But we can't just eat arrows..."
"We can. Best play now. Wings occupied deter their advance."
"Ugh...!"
Illya interjected,
"Why not pull wing cavalry back?"
"That exposes our flanks to theirs. Better leave them."
Als's ruthlessness soured the mood.
Faced with inaction, Julian narrowed his eyes.
"Hmm. So Wade's that type of general."
Fights only sure battles, spares no sacrifice or means for victory.
Exposing cavalry strategically sound—Caliper defended. Attacking risky.
Horses died aplenty, but men? Less so, shielded by thick leather armor and shields.
Madon archers fired max range, wary of charges and Caliper counterfire—reduced power.
More trampled by panicked horses than shot.
"Fearlessly cold-blooded."
Toughest type—no provocation or lure worked.
"General, arrows nearly gone. Cease fire?"
"..."
Eyes shut, Julian pondered.
"General?"
"No! Empty the quivers. Tell rear supply: bring every arrow!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Wade... You know tactics, but you're green. Overlooked the key: rank difference. I'll school you on war."
He smirked, as if holding aces.
*
*
*
Madon's arrow barrage persisted.
Target: flank cavalry. Soldiers under concentrated fire.
Als's countermeasure? Harsher.
"Blindfold the horses—they buck less without seeing arrows. If they panic, stab the head—kill instantly."
Riders got heavier, denser armor and shields.
Deaths dropped visibly, but warhorses died at absurd rates.
Madon emptied stocks; from 2,000, down to 700 by day three.
That day, Als summoned Illya with orders.
"Got it, Master. Be as stealthy as possible this time."
"!"
Eyes wide, she nodded gravely.
Julian's scheme met Als's trump card head-on.
The true stratagems clashed.