After taking on the roles of both Chief of the Imperial Staff and the First Army Chief of Staff, my first order of business was—what else?—a massive expansion of our magical communication relay stations.
Magical communication is, without a doubt, the greatest invention and technology ever. However, it’s not perfect. It’s not all-powerful. Despite the magic, there’s still a limit to what it can do.
And the problem here? Distance matters. There’s no satellite to rely on like in my past life, nor are there underwater cables laid down. So, for someone at one end of a continent to snap their fingers and instantly communicate with someone on the opposite end? That’s not magic—that’s a miracle.
Now, this is where the issue arises: long-distance magical communication just doesn’t work if the distance is too great. Therefore, we need relay stations to not only carry but amplify the magic signals midway.
The Imperial War Ministry and General Staff weren’t dummies—they’d already placed the relay stations pretty strategically. To this point, it had been enough. But to me? It felt so… lacking. You don’t just add more communication networks—you multiply their effectiveness. No, you square it. Honestly, I credit this insight less to my own smarts and more to the lessons learned from my past life.
People here aren’t stupid; they just haven’t had the experience yet. Once this war is over, everyone on the continent will understand the monumental importance of communication links. And trust me, just like supply depots, they’ll go wild setting up communications stations all over the place. I’m just fortunate enough to become the pioneer spearheading this revolution.
Of course, having unlimited pros isn’t realistic. After all, if expanding the relay network was so flawless, they would’ve done it already. Setting up stations—not just in the rear but even on the second, sometimes even first defensive lines—comes with its fair share of challenges…
“Chief of Staff, while expanding the relay stations is certainly necessary, isn’t moving too quickly and expanding too much a bit rash?”
“If we lose our hold on this area and the enemy captures these stations, we’d have a big problem. We might need to reset the entire magical network and encryption systems.”
“Perhaps it’s wise to expand only up to the second defensive line, and wait before pushing to the first?”
Though their concerns were valid, I stayed stubborn and pushed forward. The connection between command headquarters and frontline units is essential—especially with mobile troops numbering in the tens of thousands. Furthermore, it symbolizes something bigger: showing that the Empire will not retreat any further.
Nobogorod, the Eastern Three Kingdoms, and the Southern Kingdoms all brought reinforcements to the Empire’s banner, offering not just their strength but even their command structure, courtesy of a little persuasion from yours truly.
If the Empire keeps retreating after its first devastating loss, they might think we’re about to throw them to the wolves. And heaven forbid, if they start demanding their command back after trusting us, things could get ugly. There’s also the matter of the Empire’s pride. We can’t back down again. One loss was enough. No more retreats. We will meet and crush the enemy here. Both our frontline officers and soldiers need to feel this unwavering resolve—not just hear it in speeches.
Speeches and pep talks are all well and good, but the military often craves something tangible you can see and believe. For instance, even though it costs a fortune to set up each relay station, watching them pop up everywhere sends its own message to the soldiers and officers: “Hey, we’re committed,” and it solidifies their own commitment.
After my insistence and reasoning, the General Staff eventually saw things my way. A number of senior advisors stepped aside, replaced by newer, willing staff members—all of whom worked tirelessly and efficiently alongside me.
Now, I want to make something clear: I’m not running this operation like some arrogant general who expects blind devotion. Not at all. There are cases, plenty in both this world’s history and my previous life, of leaders who got drunk on power and led their armies to ruin. No “I’m amazing, follow me blindly” here. I’m a team-player through and through.
When I reached this elevated position, I surprisingly found it easier to listen than lead with arrogance. Maybe it’s because I’m not an egomaniac.
“Chief of Staff, based on the latest advice from the advisory council, it seems expanding the frontlines to both the north and south could be beneficial. What’s your decision?”
“Proceed immediately.”
I’d already issued orders for Kaya and Charlotte to march alongside Nobogorod’s army of 30,000 toward Artria. The Western Legion needed backup, so we had to act fast.
Just covering Dedolant wasn’t enough. We needed to spread things out to our advantage. The Empire may have suffered massive losses, but Dedolant hasn’t walked away unscathed either. If we narrow the battlefield, they might feel safe. But if we widen it? They’ll stretch themselves thin and collapse under their own weight.
Our enemies might have assumed this was the moment for a breather—for both them and the Empire. They’d logically expect the Empire, having taken heavier losses, to take longer to recover. But their assumptions only focus on our situation in Dedolant alone.
Think they’ll focus on reinforcing the weakened Western Legion? Not if I can help it. If they send their forces to the west, I’ll attack elsewhere, pulling their backup troops away. And if they ignore that and keep hammering at the Western Legion?
The Eastern and Southern Legions, already on a high from earlier victories, will simply surround them using the same tactics our enemies employed before.
This war may be raging in Dedolant and Artria right now, but even well-trained soldiers have limits. If enemy troops receive orders to defend their homelands while their families are under attack, how motivated do you think they’ll be?
“Attention, aide.”
“Sir!”
Oh, another perk of the job I’ve acquired: my very own dedicated aide. The mark of an elite officer—something I achieved at the ripe age of twenty-something. It’s only then I truly appreciate how much I’ve accomplished so far.
“Send this request to the War Ministry.”
“Yes, sir.”
As my aide salutes and exits with the document in hand, I can imagine the War Ministry’s reaction when they see its contents. They’ll likely be surprised, to say the least. After all, the next phase of my master plan will basically be “budget insanity.”
But seriously, aren’t we the Empire? Isn’t this exactly the kind of thing we should be capable of? Saving money in the wrong places just leads to more costly defeats in the future. Better to invest in a strong foundation for victory now.
“Alright, let’s see who runs out of steam first.”
*
Meanwhile, somewhere far from Kael Klauwitz, in the Dedolant military headquarters, Prince Georg was busy erasing and drawing countless strategies.
“The best-case scenario in this war against the Empire would be for them to acknowledge Dedolant’s superiority in the west and retreat. Consolidating the west under our control before moving on to secure dominance as the second most powerful force.”
Some criticized this plan as overly optimistic, but given that our adversary is no other than the Empire, it wasn’t entirely unrealistic. The Empire must have been stretched thin, deploying forces across the north, east, and south. The stress would naturally seep down from the leadership into the common citizens, breeding discontent.
Prince Georg had effectively masked the hardships of war under the guise of Deo people’s “glory,” persuading everyone that sacrifices were part of the journey toward greatness. However, the Empire, accustomed to prosperity, would unlikely heed similar appeals.
“Through endless warfare, combined with a devastating defeat, an internal call to end the conflict must arise. Once that happens, the Imperial leadership wouldn’t be able to refuse.”
In reality, the Empire was already overextending itself, noticeable even to Dedolant. And losing two legions would naturally destabilize them internally. If not for those unforeseen events, Dedolant could have achieved their goals perfectly.
Now, in the wake of these developments…
“Clever. Truly impressive.”
Even Prince Georg himself began questioning whether these victories were all part of Kael Klauwitz’s grand scheme.
A mere few hundred soldiers resisting Dedolant’s elite? Nonsense! What about the massive force lurking behind them?
They retreated out of fear? Hardly! They simply detected our trap and stepped back carefully.
A genius strategist’s miraculous turnaround? Please, no one falls for that. A strategist who only fights from a position of advantage wouldn’t dare risk such a blatant bluff!
Instead, Kael had likely prepared an elaborate trap that Dedolant avoided. Now Kael was using this as a psychological tactic to boost his own side’s morale while painting Dedolant as cowards and fools on the international stage.
Truly, the man’s intelligence and cruelty were beyond compare.
“The ability to quickly adapt to a failed strategy, turn it into something else, boost his allies, and humiliate the enemy? He’s a formidable and invaluable foe.”
And so, Prince Georg suffered alone under the weight of growing misconceptions about his opponent.
