Élan Vital (3)
Fundamentally, the nobles of this era needed at least some competence in leading armies. In a feudal system, it was only natural for nobles to rally their troops, shouting cries of loyalty when their liege called them to arms. As long as there was a legitimate claim, fighting for territory or interests wasn't strange at all. Just like the daimyo of Japan's Warring States period, who were all basically commanders by default. You know the famous ones: the Three Heroes of the Warring States, Takeda Shingen, Uesugi Kenshin, and so on.
Anyway, the Empire was no different. Military strategy and tactics in commanding armies were practically essential for any noble.
"Ahem, Your Grace's tactical prowess can only be described as heavenly."
"……."
"To cut off our supplies and strike at our vulnerabilities like that... I'd only heard tales of Your Grace's renowned military genius, but experiencing it firsthand is downright chilling."
Count Luar desperately spun something resembling flattery. The Grand Master of the knight order—or knight commander, as they called it. He wasn't expecting a Grand Master of the Malta Order or a Hochmeister of the Teutonic Knights or anything, but still.
He's just the president of a knight cosplay club.
Compared to Wolfgang, the captain of my own Iron Fang Knights, it was an insult even to apologize to him for the comparison. Letting out a small sigh, I replied.
"……In operating an army, emphasizing logistics can never be overstated. An army that can't eat can't advance."
"Indeed. Who could have foreseen that treating supplies lightly in a mere simulation would lead to such a disaster?"
"……."
"An army starving and morale plummeting—it's just like a real battlefield, isn't it?"
His smooth deflection was practically an art form.
"Have you ever seen real combat?"
"In this peaceful era, I haven't fought in actual battle yet. I've read those strategy books I mentioned diligently, but theory and reality are worlds apart, it seems."
Count Luar nodded innocently. I'd ranked him equal to or below Xiahou Yuan earlier, but time for a downgrade. Even Xiahou Yuan felt like a waste of the comparison. At the very least, Teacher Xiahou Yuan, master of the Six Secret Teachings and Three Strategies, had boldly stepped up claiming he'd capture Zhuge Liang. When he couldn't beat him and swore never to show his face to Lady Zou again, he actually fled to Qiang territory after a crushing defeat—a true man's man who kept his word.
As I eyed Count Luar with subtle suspicion, he lowered his voice conspiratorially.
"That's why, Your Grace. I have a splendid idea. Might I humbly suggest it?"
"Speak. I'll hear you out."
"Please grant me permission to spread word of this Élan Vital—that's what they call this mock battle—once I return to the capital."
"Out of the blue?"
"Yes. There's a profound reason."
Count Luar nodded with a serious expression.
"In my view, mastering Élan Vital equates to mastering the art of commanding armies. Today has been a true eye-opener."
"Hm……."
"The Empire's nobles have lost their martial spirit, but this will surely catch on."
"Berg's generals and knights seemed to love it."
"I guarantee it—the Empire's nobles will learn army operations through Élan Vital. If Your Grace permits, I'll even teach it to my son. His Majesty would surely approve."
"His Majesty as well?"
"Yes."
Count Luar lowered his voice further.
"That Your Grace has devised such an intricate mock battle proves how gravely you're considering the monster threat. Orcs moving like a proper army, for instance."
"……True. Ultimately, Élan Vital is a wargame assuming monsters organized with military discipline, tactics, and strategy."
"I'll present this to His Majesty as evidence. Theory and reality often diverge, but narrowing that gap requires training akin to real combat."
"Training?"
"And recruiting and training soldiers takes vast time and money, doesn't it? That's why His Majesty sent me, with that in mind."
"Ah. I see what you mean."
He'd been beating around the bush, but I grasped Count Luar's intent. Sure, he was a fool who bungled without supply lines, charged when morale tanked, and got eaten alive. But that didn't make him a complete idiot. He knew exactly why he'd been crushed so thoroughly, and back home, he'd leverage Élan Vital in his report to the emperor.
A pretext for supporting the north against the real threat of intelligent monsters. Proof that I, too, was making every effort to counter it. The noble faction could whine all they wanted about Berg already having near-unlimited authority, not being poor, and having plenty of troops.
"Haha, of course, I'd love to keep playing Élan Vital back home too."
Count Luar scratched his head sheepishly, shooting me puppy-dog eyes like please say yes. Cut that out—you're a middle-aged man.
"……What will you tell His Majesty?"
"Demonstrating Élan Vital before him will make it clear. In his youth, His Majesty led armies in person."
"So, you'll demo field battles via Élan Vital and itemize the support needed—funds and supplies."
"Precisely, Your Grace. Heh."
Internally, I upgraded Count Luar from Xiahou Yuan to Ma Su levels. A massive leap—and I firmed my resolve.
"Then stay in Berg a few more days before leaving."
"Pardon?"
"Planning to add beastmen and Imperial troops. The existing human forces are tailored to Berg, so we can separate them entirely."
"New units?"
"Yes. And as you said, there are discrepancies between theory and reality to patch—like nerfing bow power."
New factions and patches. Playing it like a miniatures game? Fine by me. But if it's a pretext for aid, I'd tweak and balance accordingly.
"Heh, looking forward to it."
"You should. Expect major changes."
Still, making a board game while handling army affairs? Felt oddly familiar. Absentmindedly, I gazed out the reception room window at the distant snow-capped peaks.
No white dragon popping out later, I hope.
After Estiang and Count Luar's private agreement, Élan Vital underwent several changes: addition of a more diversified Imperial army beyond the duchy forces, inclusion of beastmen superior in mobility and melee destruction, and fixes for issues commonly noted by Berg's officers and knights enjoying the game.
Count Luar returned to the capital grinning ear to ear, carrying the improved Élan Vital. He personally demonstrated it before Emperor Giovanni and successfully spread it far and wide.
"Ah, this is Élan Vital. A mock battle devised by Grand Duke Berg—a mastery of it equates to mastery of strategy."
The Élan Vital craze that swept Berg now hit the capital. In an era where every noble mustered their peasants into armies when needed—and with scant entertainment—the Empire's nobles naturally embraced it as fun tactics training.
As Count Luar propagated, excelling at Élan Vital plausibly packaged one as strategically adept.
"Hahaha! Who can stop me now?!"
In Estiang's previous life, there was a proverb: the fox rules the mountain without tigers. Per Count Luar's plan, he leveraged his head start to reign as the capital's Élan Vital god.
For about three days.
"Gaaah! Take my infantry, my cavalry—spare me!"
Three days later, nobles adapted to Élan Vital, and Count Luar plummeted to noob status amid humiliating losing streaks.
Rumors even swirled that the emperor, who'd watched Count Luar's demo, now obsessed over it daily with the Court Count.
"How about sending reinforcements?"
"Command structure issues?"
"True, too many heads mean headaches. Not a hydra. Anyway, Élan Vital shows it—the north's cold ramps up soldier food consumption in the field. Food aid?"
"Real battles always lack something."
"Ugh, headache. In my campaigning days, I didn't sweat the small stuff."
"But Your Majesty's presence skyrocketed morale—like a bonus in Élan Vital."
"Is that so?"
As the emperor and Court Count debated northern aid over Élan Vital in the palace reception room...
In the Imperial capital's nearby mage tower—more often called the Ivory Tower than by its formal name, the mana hub for rare mages—the summit featured a man shifting miniature pieces on a map.
"This is fascinating. So fun."
Sharp, intellectual features. Long blue hair casually swept back, the man muttered.
"Illusion magic here might make it more immersive?"
"Tower Lord, please maintain some dignity……."
His elderly opponent wizard pleaded. White-haired with a flowing beard versus a contrasting young man—an odd sight of the elder begging the youth.
The Tower Lord ignored him like background noise.
"Isn't it amazing? What kind of mind invents this? Not some war-obsessed lunatic eating battles for breakfast. Makes me curious about his face."
"……I heard Grand Duke Berg made it to prepare for monster wars."
"Right. Intelligent monsters—fun rumors. Two things in the north I want to see myself."
"You don't mean going north?"
"Eventually. Not now."
He shook his head.
"Glad to hear it."
"My skills aren't ready yet."
"Pardon?"
"I'm decent at brainy stuff. But the creator must've mastered Élan Vital perfectly."
"Likely."
"To beat the creator myself, I need full prep. Starting tomorrow, challenge nobles to matches."
The man flashed a sly smile.