I Am Being Mistaken for a Genius Strategist

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“Hold the Dedorant Army at Setongrad in place.”

“By any means necessary, make sure they strike once more with all their might.”

The First Legion Commander saluted with utmost determination, vowing to follow my orders.

Yet, I didn’t provide any additional detailed commands in front of them.

I simply couldn’t muster the courage to say more. I felt incredibly sorry about it.

Anyway, the First Legion Commander likely understood what they needed to do well enough.

“Is provoking them further, akin to branding Seton’s name onto the Dedorant fortress once again, a wise move?”

They’re not fools; who would actually take the bait when it’s so bluntly laid out as ‘please attack here again’?

Provocation should only be used at the right moment, and only when it can hit its mark effectively.

Anything beyond that would just give the enemy more reasons to see us as a threat.

Thus, the First Legion did not employ emotional provocations like those at Setongrad. No, they couldn’t.

They had to utilize a more straightforward and solid approach instead.

The reason Dedorants, despite growing increasingly uneasy, eventually moved to attack was that…

It was suspicious, oh so suspicious. Yet, they had no choice but to bite the bait, caught in that trap.

“Chief of Staff. We have urgent news that flames have erupted within Setongrad.”

“…I see.”

Just as expected. The method chosen by the First Legion was to intentionally create inner turmoil.

Causing chaos within to highlight the vulnerabilities for the enemies to see.

If they attacked now, they could reap the rewards of three months of hardship.

This was the first and last opportunity, and they had to seize it. Truly, it was a divine opportunity.

It was like casting a fishing line to a Dedorant Command contemplating retreat.

As a result, the Dedorants couldn’t resist and charged towards Setongrad.

The war situation was becoming increasingly peculiar, yet the bait thrown before them was far too tempting.

And rightly so—the fortress that had tormented them for three full months.

Even the name was a burden of the worst disgrace for the Deo Ethnicity.

How could any Dedorant ignore the chance to wipe it all away in one fell swoop?

“Ultimately, having caught the Dedorants in a vice, it couldn’t get any better for our Empire. But…”

A bitter feeling spreads. I can’t help but click my tongue and sigh.

Even though they had prepared thoroughly for the operation itself.

Even though they ensured that no innocent legionaries would be swept away by the flames they set.

In the end, it was the First Legion that had to surrender both the fortress and the outer defenses.

That means they had given over more than 70% of the facilities that had been the heart of their defense.

There would be numerous casualties. A lot of people would die or be hurt.

All for the Empire’s greater victory. Due to the orders received from the First Legion Commander. From me.

Because we sacrificed the very core of our defenses—the fortress itself.

Such things happen on the battlefield. The sacrifice of the few for the many is most common there.

It’s not an act of selfishness. For the achievement of ultimate goals, someone must do what must be done.

It’s the duty of those in high positions to bear that burden.

At the same time, they must not crumble, nor act indifferent to the lives they oversee.

‘…I wonder if that will go well.’

As the position rises, so do the expectations and the burdens that come with it.

There’s pressure from being capable, yet I dread the weight of the lives at stake even more.

The ability to see them as numbers is necessary, but truly, as a person, how can one do that…

“Chief of Staff?”

“…Charlua? When did you arrive?”

“A little while ago. I didn’t get a reply when my aide told you I was here.”

“Ah, I see. I was… lost in thought for a moment.”

“What were you thinking about that you were so absorbed, Chief of Staff?”

Seated, Charlua smiled and teased me.

To her, I simply managed a bitter smile instead of a proper response and asked my aide for tea.

“Drink this.”

“And you, Chief of Staff? Aren’t you having any?”

“As for me… um. I suppose, I’m feeling a bit hesitant to indulge.”

At my response, Charlua’s expression suddenly turned strange.

She then alternated her gaze between the teacup and me before speaking.

“…You seem to have some concerns. Shall I take a guess?”

“Excuse me?”

“It seems the feelings you harbored silently until now have all surfaced at once. It’s something that those in high places must face at least once.”

…What a sharp woman she is. Is it because she’s from the Demon Tribe?

It’s impressive she picked up on my thoughts without me saying anything.

“Chief of Staff. In Nobogord, we have a saying: the higher one ascends, the less they understand the hearts of others.”

“…”

“It means you become someone who forgets human emotions, whether intentionally or not.”

“I see.”

“So, I think it’s good that you’re grappling with these worries, Chief of Staff.”

Good? I looked at Charlua in confusion about what she meant.

She sipped her tea and savored the taste for a moment before continuing.

“Because it’s proof that you’re still human, Chief of Staff.”

“Proof, you say?”

“Yes. Now that you’ve reached a very high position, you’re not someone who thinks they are above others anymore. Instead, you look back at the times you were lower and still care for those down below.”

Charlua’s words were, to be honest, somewhat hard to grasp.

Of course someone who is human should be like that. So many people are suffering because of me.

I’m not someone more significant than they are; I’m just lucky.

“That’s why I admire you, Chief of Staff. At first glance, you seem like the perfect genius strategist. But looking again, you’re just an ordinary person who calmly walks the path without losing your way.”

“Ahem. That’s quite the overstatement.”

“But it’s sincere!”

“Even then, nothing more will fall into Nobogord.”

“Ha ha ha! Of course not! In the end, I don’t think you, the Chief of Staff, would think of overstepping your bounds!”

Seeing Charlua burst into laughter, I felt a slight sense of relief.

Yeah. Even if I’m lacking, I still haven’t changed that much.

This thought, along with the pitifulness and the guilt… these emotions are still significant.

“Don’t shed the burden, but don’t get trapped by it either. Be the person suited for your position, but never forget you’re human. Kael. My son. Stay strong.”

I recalled my father’s words, someone who had extensive experience on the battlefield.

As expected, I was truly a fortunate soul—perhaps overly so.

*

Before all the events began, I split the forces of the First Mobile Legion appropriately and infiltrated beyond the frontline.

Nearly 20,000 troops cannot move all at once. Otherwise, they’d be exposed immediately.

Above all, they are not shock troops for large-scale battles or annihilation forces.

They weren’t intended for attacking fortresses or besieging strongholds either.

What I ordered them was this: attack if you can, or don’t if you can’t.

Block every path, cut communications, and destroy anything that appears easy.

Don’t obsess over the victory or defeat of the battle. Just causing confusion is enough.

The enemy command will try to retreat faster than usual due to the pressure.

That’s how well the mobile unit, which has entered the rear, appears to be fulfilling my orders.

“Chief of Staff. We have a new report from the direction of Setongrad. Some of the enemy units have moved to reinforce their flanks, and several units are hastily preparing to retreat.”

“And Setongrad?”

“Though flames surged a few days ago and they lost the walls and outer defenses, the inner fortress is still resisting. There were dangerous moments, but upon hearing news of our movements, apart from the units that were originally attacking, they haven’t sent more into the fray and the battle has fallen into a lull.”

“That’s a relief.”

Yes, a relief. I wondered whether the enemy would go insane and drown themselves while clinging to Setongrad.

However, for the Dedorants, doing so seems impossible.

No matter how much pride or self-esteem they hold, they have nowhere to use their forces when they’ve lost everything.

For the time-being, they’ll concentrate on reinforcing their flanks and observing the situation to the rear.

‘Though it may already be too late.’

By now, the Eastern Legion and Southern Legion, entrusted with holding the flanks, would have significantly looped around.

And from both top and bottom of the central region, they would be slicing at the enemy’s waist.

At the same time, the cavalry units that belong to the First Mobile Legion, which are active as several detachments now…

They continue to target every pathway and relatively poorly defended installations.

If communication posts are captured, or if couriers are killed, chaos will ensue to the extreme.

“We must clearly show the enemy our intentions. This is a siege. If you don’t retreat, you will all perish. That’s what we need to communicate.”

“But, Chief of Staff. If we do that, we won’t be able to capture all of the Dedorant’s forces. We’ve already heard that some units are retreating.”

“That’s exactly the point. If we can pin those enraged fools in one place, it’s obvious how they will resist.”

I’ve said it before. I won’t fight with those whose sanity is lost.

Winning would mean nothing. The Dedorants would meet their end, but our Empire would survive.

To maintain the Empire’s superiority and order, we need something overwhelmingly forceful.

Thus, we’ll make them focus on merely retreating while gritting their teeth.

Even if half of them can escape, the remaining half will be inevitably left behind.

Whether they can really gather even half is uncertain, but still.

“After a season-long battle, many must be near their limits. Retreating is no easy feat, even for well-trained units. Maintaining order while retreating is the hardest part. Not to mention doing so while gripped by fear of being encircled. Will they manage that while lugging tired bodies?”

“Then what you desire isn’t the annihilation after encirclement, but…”

“A large-scale encirclement. Just that. We’ll make them abandon their limbs and only escape with their torso. And what I want are those ‘limbs’ left behind in there.”

Immediately after concluding that discussion, those who went to carry out my orders returned.

“Chief of Staff. We have returned.”

“Welcome back. So, what did you find?”

Looking at myself rubbing my hands together, I felt just like a child waiting for Christmas gifts.

But in truth, I was, indeed, waiting for a present. A gift that I eagerly anticipated.

“We’ve learned some Dedorant pop songs through a few of the captives who were willing to cooperate. They are currently teaching our military band how to convey that feeling well enough through music even without the lyrics.”

“That’s great! Just to clarify, we can’t let them force a mournful atmosphere, nor should there be any overt signs of surrender. It should simply reflect the essence everyone in Dedorant knows. You understand, right?”

“Of course, Chief of Staff.”

The Empire’s grand victory. At the same time, the Empire’s mercy. And thus the justification unique to our Empire.

There must be a reason why the Emperor appointed me as Chief of Staff.

Not for combat or tactics. But rather, wanting something different from me.

I am a servant of the Empire and a servant of the Emperor. The firstborn of a Duke.

I must show them all. For my family and lineage. For those who look up to me.

And as they say, also for myself now.