Quality Over Quantity
“What the fuck is this bullshit?!”
“……?”
At the sudden shout, every gaze in the area—including Arteon’s—swung toward the source.
Despite the bitter northern wind, the man’s face was flushed crimson, white breath steaming from his body. He looked to be somewhere in middle age. Fierce-eyed, he hurled the helmet in his hand to the ground and snarled,
“I heard the independent unit was supposed to be assigned a hundred men. Shouldn’t we fill a hundred, then?”
Claw opened his mouth to answer, but Arteon raised a hand slightly and stopped him.
“I’ll handle this.”
“……Yes, sir.”
Claw stepped back. Arteon turned to the man.
“It would be ideal to fill a hundred, but I already made it clear we won’t take anyone who fails a test of this level. There’s no point dragging them along.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Are you such an idiot that you don’t even recognize the face of the unit commander you applied to?”
“……!”
The man’s pupils wavered. He had thought some brat had just butted in to annoy him—only to realize the speaker was Arteon himself. He forced his anger down and pressed on.
“How the hell are we supposed to know who’ll die and who won’t? Just because someone can run a little better, does that mean they’ll survive? A soldier’s real skill is spearmanship and swordsmanship—the ability to fight, isn’t it?!”
He couldn’t quite bury the heat in his voice. Arteon glanced past him at the others who had failed. They said nothing, but plenty of them clearly shared the same thought.
Arteon held out a hand to the side.
“Spear.”
“Here, sir.”
He took an ordinary soldier’s spear and pointed at the man in front of him.
“What’s your name?”
“To-Thomas.”
“Good. Thomas. Take up spear and shield and assume a combat stance.”
“……?”
The man called Thomas looked puzzled, yet he raised shield and spear into position. The stance was decent enough—but his exhausted body was already trembling hard.
“Everyone, watch.”
Arteon indicated Thomas as he spoke.
“The independent unit I lead specializes in guerrilla tactics. Naturally we have to look harder at distance covered and speed than a regular unit would.”
He swept the spear tip slowly downward.
“And yet…….”
The tip tracked the shield Thomas held. It was sinking, inch by inch.
“We used kite shields for the test instead of combat gear, but once stamina fails, even holding a shield becomes too much. On top of that…….”
Thud!
“Ack!”
Arteon thrust the spear lightly and struck the center of the shield. The sudden blow tore a scream from Thomas and sent him sprawling.
Arteon continued as if nothing had happened, expression flat.
“I used no mana in that strike. I put almost no force behind it—just hit the exact center of the shield. And what was the result?”
Everyone stared at Thomas rolling ignominiously on the ground and kept their mouths shut.
Thomas scrambled back to his feet and shouted at Arteon.
“Plenty of the ones who passed will drop just as fast!”
“That may be true, or it may not. Someone in worse shape than you might have made it through. I won’t deny the possibility. However…….”
Arteon’s eyes cooled to ice. He simply looked at Thomas, yet the man’s whole body prickled with goosebumps.
“Urgh……!”
Meeting that gaze, Thomas took an involuntary step back.
Arteon spoke.
“We don’t have the luxury of time to weigh every condition in complex fashion. Meet the minimum standard and survive, and the rest can be taught later. You fell short of that standard. Yet instead of reflecting on your own shortcomings, the first thing you do is complain? In a public place like this?”
The surrounding stares turned sharp and cold on Thomas. Arteon’s every word landed like a slap. Thomas bit his lip hard as he felt the soldiers’ eyes on him, then spat,
“Fuck it—do whatever the hell you want!”
He bolted down the hill as if fleeing. But……
Crash! Thud! Rattle!
With legs already gone, charging downslope at that speed could only end one way. He sprawled again, scrambled up, ran, and fell several more times before he finally vanished from sight.
Arteon turned to Grein.
“Finish up. Have the soldiers who passed form ranks and stand by at first light tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
“You worked hard today. Wrap things up quickly and rest.”
“You as well, Commander. I’ll finish right away.”
With that, Arteon headed for the tents. With so many soldiers crowded in, quiet training had been impossible anyway.
Still……
A preemptive strike, is it.
Timing-wise, the situation was quite favorable. If their own strike drew the enemy’s eyes, the main force could strike from the opposite direction.
But with a unit that doesn’t even reach a hundred men…… how much effect we can actually produce is still unknown.
And it was a hastily thrown-together independent unit that hadn’t even trained together properly.
Arteon pictured the battle in his mind. They would not achieve the grand results he might hope for. Enemy losses would be light; in the end his people would have to flee while holding the enemy’s attention.
But…… he would have factored even that into the plan.
Arteon recalled his previous life and the reputation of Velkain. Until the day a spy from the center had killed him, the man had racked up absurd achievements in battle after battle. A commander like that would never overlook a variable of this size. There would be another move prepared.
For now, all he could do was
“Give everything to the task in front of me.”
Arteon lay down on the cot and quietly closed his eyes.
Far off, sounds from the enemy camp rode the wind and echoed through the frozen air.
Over the snow scattered across the ground like a thin dusting, the Kar warrior Kamoltan approached and spoke.
“The Empire bastards seem to be up to something strange.”
Bowukartaon said nothing, simply staring ahead. A heavy silence settled between them before he finally answered.
“They will move soon. They won’t let the momentum from the last victory go to waste.”
His voice was flat. Cold assessment, not a single gap in his words. Kamoltan countered,
“But what can Empire dogs possibly do? In the end they’ll all die under our warriors’ axes and blades.”
“Kamoltan. Do not underestimate the Imperial army.”
Bowukartaon knew full well how terrifying Imperial tactics and cohesion could be. In a pure contest of strength they would win without a second thought. The warriors who had survived these harsh northern lands possessed not only powerful bodies and stamina but absurd combat prowess.
And yet.
“The reason we have never been able to surpass them is that they possess outstanding tactical ability that completely conceals their weaknesses.”
Tactics that shifted in strange ways at a single command were something the Kar Tribe could not imitate. They were the product of long history and hard-won learning.
“I—I’m sorry. I spoke rashly.”
“Our problem is that we look down on the Imperial army too much. The fact that they have held their formation so firmly and come this far means they have the strength to match.”
Kamoltan bowed his head deeply. Bowukartaon returned his gaze to the front and pondered.
If I were them…… how would I move?
He pictured the Imperial army advancing across the plain. Their total forces were roughly equal—which made it all the more astonishing. That the Empire could field numbers comparable to the force already entrenched here spoke volumes about how fiercely they hungered for the North.
If we meet them head-on, our own losses will be far from negligible.
Fully thirty thousand troops. But large numbers meant equally enormous consumption of supplies. And in this freezing north, obtaining those supplies on the spot was all but impossible.
“Kamoltan.”
“Yes, Bowukartaon.”
“What of the report to the Taman?”
“I understand measures are already being taken.”
Bowukartaon nodded in satisfaction, then said,
“If their supply is cut, every means they have of holding out vanishes completely.”
No matter how skilled they were, humans could not fight on empty stomachs. Simply severing the supply line would neutralize that vast force. And if that forced them to turn their backs……
I will not simply let them go.
That one, at least, he would kill without fail.
Bowukartaon looked at Kamoltan.
“Once the supply is cut and the Imperial army shows signs of withdrawing, we will bite without delay. Keep the warriors ready to march at any moment.”
“Yes.”
Bowukartaon recalled that earlier defeat and turned his eyes away, cold as ice.
A heavy silence had settled.
Alone in the tent, Velkain stared blankly at the map spread across the desk.
Then—
“Supreme Commander.”
Claw entered and addressed him. Velkain’s gaze lifted from the map.
“Has the letter arrived?”
“Yes. It should reach us in about a week.”
“A week…….”
That was still enough for now. Helikel Fortress itself held supplies that could be drawn immediately.
Still……
Perhaps the truly critical battlefield will not be here, but somewhere else entirely.
They had stockpiled additional supplies at the Helikel Canyon fortress, yet even that would be woefully insufficient. For the sake of rapid advance they had been forced to leave a gap between the troops and the supply train. Stability was desirable, but matching the supply pace would make a swift surprise attack on the enemy impossible.
Velkain held out a letter to Claw.
“Deliver this to the messenger when he arrives. Before we reach the Helikel Canyon fortifications, no other variables must be allowed to arise.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
After Claw left, Velkain continued to stare down at the map with a heavy gaze.