Raising the Princess to Overcome Death

Chapter 352: Childhood Friends– A Strange Strategy

A vast, windswept plain.

Tents and soldiers clustered at the edges of the field like small, huddled groups.

In the distance, the crisp freshness of snow-capped mountains filled the air, while up close, the sharp scent of burning torches and the greasy stench of metal clung stubbornly.

The smell of war.

Having just arrived, Rev closed his eyes and took in the stormy atmosphere of the battlefield.

The vast, beautiful land now divided by human folly, where two opposing forces prepared to clash. The frantic excitement of fresh recruits. The hollow bravado of those who survived yesterday's skirmish. The delusional optimism of the wounded soldiers, convinced that their sacrifices had turned the tide of war.

Rev’s lips curled into a smile.

Startled by himself, he reflected on the cause of that smile.

I’ve developed a taste for blood.

Out of the 13,000 soldiers Prince Vivian had brought, only a handful were smiling like Rev.The rest were tense. Some shifted their eyes restlessly, trying to adapt to the unfamiliar environment. Others puffed out their chests, forcing out bravado. "Tch, it’s not so bad." They tried to bury their fear in empty boasts.

Lena's reaction, however, was different from the rest.

"Oh no… oh no, what should we do…?"

Her gaze was fixed on an injured soldier being carried away. Her hands, clutching a staff, trembled as if she were ready to cast a healing spell at any moment.

Rev reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

A silent gesture of comfort and restraint.

"..."

"I’ll be back in a bit."

Lena nodded, understanding the message.

She would act wisely.

Trusting her to manage herself, Rev made his way to the command tent where Prince Vivian and the Supreme Commander were likely to be.

As expected, the strategy meeting was already in progress.

The atmosphere inside the tent was as tense as a drawn bowstring.

The faces of Margrave Maxinus’s staff officers were grim. Their disappointment was impossible to hide—13,000 reinforcements had arrived, but it was nowhere near the number they had been promised.

Their briefing was brief. They suggested scattering the 13,000 soldiers across the front lines.

Silence followed.

Then, Prince Vivian rose from his seat.

"That will not win this war."

...Of course.

The staff officers had many things they wanted to say, but they swallowed their words like bitter medicine. Who was to blame for this mess?

Even so, none dared to voice their complaints. Prince Vivian was not a man to be underestimated.

And Prince Vivian knew it.

He took full advantage of the silence.

With stately, deliberate steps, he strode to the center of the command tent. His poise was impeccable, his presence commanding. The staff officers felt their gazes drawn to him, their hearts briefly stirred by the thought:

“Does he have a plan?”How something is said is often more important than what is said.

Prince Vivian swept his hand across the map on the table, gathering the markers representing the 13,000 soldiers into a single mass.

He then declared:

"This will be the last time we gather as one. From now on, forget about the concept of a 'main force.' Commanders, you are to treat your respective areas as independent strongholds and command towers."

He met the eyes of each and every person in the tent before continuing.

"Listen carefully, mages—Ristad Jekon Doroff, and the other 22 mages among us."

All eyes shifted to the mages.

"From this moment until the war is over, I grant you permission to use magic without limitation."

"!"

Everyone froze in shock.

Even the mages were caught off guard.

Ristad spoke up, his voice cautious and defensive.

"Forgive me, but what exactly do you mean by 'unlimited'? I’m asking for clarification to avoid any potential issues."

"Exactly as I said," Prince Vivian replied. "You are free to use any and all methods necessary to kill the enemy. I will take full responsibility for any consequences."

"That’s outrageous!"

A young staff officer couldn’t contain himself and shot to his feet.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves before speaking again.

"Your Highness, that is unacceptable. I understand your reasoning. We have more mages than the enemy, and you wish to leverage that advantage. I understand that muChapter But the enemy has mages too. If you proceed like this, it won’t just be the enemy who dies. Our own soldiers will die as well. That’s not a victory—it’s annihilation."

Annihilation.

It was a word that carried immense weight.

Everyone in the tent knew it to be true. If they claimed victory but lost all their soldiers, could it even be called a victory? If it was, then for whom?

But though they all felt the same, none dared to stand beside the brave staff officer.

This was Prince Vivian’s first official order as Supreme Commander.

To oppose it was dangerous.

Yet, Prince Vivian remained calm. As if he had expected this very reaction.

"You there, step forward and explain yourself."

The young officer hesitated for a moment before he stepped forward with a determined look.

He was not without fear, but the lives of thousands of soldiers were at stake.

"The problem lies with the 'Mana Road,' Your Highness."****"

The officer raised his voice as he explained.

"When mages cast spells, they must first establish a 'Mana Road' in the air. But if multiple mages overlap their Mana Roads, it creates interference. When that happens, spells lose control. If things go well, it only results in an explosion. If things go poorly, the spell’s power is multiplied unpredictably, Leading to massive casualties on both sides."

"Correct." Prince Vivian nodded. "And that is why, for so long, mages have been used only in limited capacities. They’re only deployed in small units, using low-impact magic to target specific enemy soldiers or repel small groups."

"That’s right, Your Highness. So please, reconsider—"

"Thank you for your input. You may return to your seat."

Prince Vivian dismissed him.

Then, turning his gaze to the rest of the room, he declared:

"I intend to change this outdated practice."

"What…?"

"Since the rise of mages, warfare has shifted from dense formations to unit-based skirmishes. To win this war, we must go further. I propose eliminating the concept of a 'main force' entirely. Command will no longer be centralized. I will lower the chain of command to the level of battalion commanders."

Vivian raised his hand. A soldier stepped forward and handed him a shovel.

Holding it high, Prince Vivian announced:

"This shovel will be our soldiers’ most important weapon."

"Haha…"

At first, people laughed, thinking it was a joke.

But Prince Vivian’s eyes were dead serious.

"From this point on, we will advance by digging. Each battalion will dig a trench as it advances, and the dug-out soil will be used to cover the soldiers' shelters. This is where they will live, fight, and defend themselves."

The officers were stunned.

The prince pulled out a diagram.

Fifteen battalions, each digging forward in parallel lines.

The troops would be divided into squads, each with its own foxhole. Battalion commanders would operate independently, digging their trenches while looking for opportunities to attack the enemy.

Mages would reduce the battlefield to ashes, even at the risk of triggering a Mana Road explosion.

"Any questions?" Vivian asked.

"I must object—"

"It’s certainly a bold strategy, but—"

"Your Highness, logistically, this plan—"

The room filled with hesitant objections.

The tone was careful, the words diplomatic.

They used words like “regret,” “respectfully request reconsideration,” and “understand but disagree.”

The commanders' objections to Prince Vivian’s strategy were loud and persistent.

Compared to the earlier shock at allowing mages to use unlimited magic, the resistance this time was even more intense.

The more experienced the commander, the more critical their stance was.

At its core, they believed it simply didn’t make sense.

But if one were to rank the most well-reasoned and widely supported objections, they would be as follows:

It’s too slow. Digging trenches while advancing was bound to be much slower than walking.

It’s exhausting. A commander raised his voice, stressing the need to account for soldier fatigue.

It’s vulnerable to attacks from above. Since they couldn’t dig tunnels underground, the trenches would be exposed at the top, making them easy targets for enemy attacks from higher ground.

It’s weak against knight infiltration. If enemy knights broke into the trenches, the narrow pathways would make it difficult for the soldiers to fight back, Leading to potential slaughter.

It’s terrain-dependent. Some areas, like forests, were difficult to dig through due to roots, and rocky ground would prevent proper trench construction.

Despite the relentless objections, Prince Vivian remained calm and responded to each point with unwavering logic.

"No matter how fast we march, if the enemy blocks the way, we can’t move forward anyway."

"If you think digging is hard, then tell me—how much easier is it to clash steel with an enemy soldier head-on?"

"We’ll issue spears to the troops. They can use them to stab enemies attacking from above. We’ll also use foxholes as defensive positions. And honestly, I believe spears are far easier for soldiers to handle than swords. That’s why, back in the era of tight phalanx formations, spears were the standard weapon for infantry. Sure, they used javelins and short swords too, but the main weapon was always the spear."

"As for enemy knights breaking into our trenches, it won’t be as chaotic as you fear. Soldiers can climb out and attack from above. Surely, you're not assuming knights will be charging in while our mages are casting spells, are you?"

"As for terrain issues, you’re right. Digging might be difficult in forests because of the roots. But if we can’t dig, we’ll just go around. We’re lucky there are no forests here. If we run into rocky terrain, battalion commanders will have the discretion to adjust the route as necessary."

"Any more concerns?"

Silence.

The commanders and staff officers glanced at one another, their faces filled with unease.

Even though Vivian had provided reasonable counterarguments, they couldn’t accept it.

They couldn’t "feel" it.

It was a strategy that went against everything they had learned from past wars.

Their faces were grim, as if the end of the world had arrived.

But since reasoning had failed to sway them, Vivian resorted to force.

He declared the meeting over.

The officers muttered to themselves as they left the tent. Only Prince Vivian, Margrave Maxinus, and Rev remained inside.

Throughout the meeting, Maxinus had sat quietly like a rock.

Now, he gestured for Rev to Leave, waving his hand dismissively.

"You can Leave now. I have something to discuss with His Highness."

"Ah, but you mustn’t send him away, Margrave."

Vivian rubbed his temples for a moment, then raised his head with a small smile.

"I should have introduced him earlier."

He gestured toward Rev and announced,

"This is Sir Rev Bizaine from the Kingdom of Conrad. He was sent by Prince Lean de Yeriel, the finest knight in Conrad."

Vivian’s smile grew slightly mischievous.

"Sir Rev Bizaine, this is Margrave Maxinus Zarai of the Empire. In other nations, the Zarai family is recognized as a house of margraves."

Rev nodded, bowing politely.

"I am honored to make your acquaintance. I am Rev Bizaine."

"The finest knight, huh? You must be older than you look."

Maxinus offered his hand for a handshake, and Rev took it.

Despite his plump, unassuming frame, Maxinus’s hand was surprisingly large. It felt like gripping a bear’s paw.

Maxinus's appearance was deceptive—he looked like an ill-tempered, portly old man who didn’t get enough exercise.

But his grip was strong and firm.

"So you’re a knight of Conrad. Well, it’s a pleasure, Sir Rev."

After the handshake, Maxinus turned his attention back to Vivian.

"Your Highness, may I offer my honest thoughts on your strategy?"

"Of course."

Maxinus nodded in thanks, showing a level of politeness that seemed out of character for his grumpy appearance.

He then brought up a topic that everyone had been thinking about but no one had dared to say out loud.

"How do you plan to deal with Count Herman Forte?"

"..."

The question was like a hammer blow to the tent.

"With our troops split into 15 divisions, Count Forte will have the perfect playground to run wild."

It was a valid point.

With 1,000 soldiers and around 10 knights per battalion, they had spread their forces thin.

This was the force the House of Isadora had scraped together despite Duke Kyrgyz’s sabotage.

The army was slightly larger now, thanks to the addition of Margrave Maxinus’s forces, but once it was split into 15 parts, it became just the right size for a Swordmaster to tear through.

Swordmasters didn’t care about shields, armor, or magical defenses.

Their Aura Blades could cut through anything.

If Herman Forte launched a sudden assault with a small group of knights, the devastation would be unimaginable.

Maxinus had been watching Prince Vivian closely, hoping for a response.

And Vivian did have an answer ready.

"You needn’t worry, Margrave."

"Oh?"

"We have a plan for that. Gilbert Forte is with us."

"...An interesting hostage, I suppose."

Maxinus raised an eyebrow.

Vivian’s smile grew even wider.

"We won’t need to go that far, Margrave. Besides, we already have someone here who can match Count Herman Forte."

"Who?"

"Sir Rev Bizaine, of course."

"...What?"

"He can handle Count Forte."

Silence.

Maxinus scratched his ear, his eyes narrowing.

"Pardon me, but did he say that himself?"

"No."

Vivian chuckled.

"Prince Lean de Yeriel guaranteed it. Isn’t that right, Sir Rev?"

Both Maxinus and Vivian turned to look at Rev.

Their gazes pressed on him like a weight.

Rev opened his mouth.

He was about to confidently say, "Yes, I can handle him."

But suddenly, doubt crept into his mind.

This isn't like the usual "engagement route" scenarios.

Normally, the "War Event" would unfold under a specific scenario.

In those scenarios, Count Herman Forte’s goal was to end the war quickly.

But now?

Everything had changed.

The strategy was different. The battlefield had changed. It was possible that things wouldn't go as before.

What if he didn’t get to face Count Forte at all?

But then Rev thought about his own luck.

He knew it well.

“I have the worst luck.”

And that gave him confidence.

If something terrible could happen, it would definitely happen to him.

With that in mind, he raised his head and answered confidently.

"Yes. I will stop him."

He had no doubt.

After all, Herman Forte would almost certainly come straight for Lena.