The situation had turned dire.
There couldn’t have been a better metaphor for Dedolant’s predicament.
In the early stages of the war against the Empire, Dedolant’s strategy was nothing short of perfect. While they tore apart everything in the conquered land of Dugal, the Empire did nothing of the sort. After waging war, the Empire had claimed only authority, with barely any other benefit. Simply put, if the war dragged on, no matter how mighty the Empire was, it would struggle to endure.
Signs of this were evident from the start. The Imperial Army moved with surprising urgency. While Dedolant’s bait tactics were effective, it seemed the Empire itself wanted the war to end quickly—whether out of the fear that this might be their final conflict or concern over instability shaking their rule. Regardless of the cause, it didn’t matter much to Dedolant. What mattered was that the Empire was playing right into their hands.
Dedolant’s plan? Lure the Empire deep into their territory and deliver a crushing defeat, crippling their forces with heavy losses. The war had already mobilized countless legions without pause, which would only weigh on the Empire.
Sure, a prolonged war was costly for Dedolant too, but they weren’t without resources—they had already swallowed up Dugal, almost matching their own strength. The losers of war, after all, have only suffering ahead of them.
Dedolant knew they couldn’t defeat the Empire. Their aim wasn’t victory—it was endurance. If they could survive this war, the Empire might recognize Dedolant’s sovereignty. Then they could unify the west, bow down to the Empire for a while, regroup, and prepare to one day finally overthrow it.
”Not a chance.”
That ambitious dream of Dedolant’s unraveled the moment the Empire launched its great offensive—and one particular strategist of theirs shook things up entirely. Originally, Dedolant had planned to crush the Empire’s western legion—its spearhead—and then sweep through the gate to devastate the rear. To accomplish this, Prince Georg and his elite forces took the field personally.
No matter how powerful or resourceful the Empire claimed to be, reclassifying and reallocating resources from the rear was essential for full mobilization. If Dedolant could knock out the areas handling this, the Empire’s reorganization would become far more challenging. Essentially, Dedolant was issuing a veiled threat: k*ll us, and you’ll suffer tremendous losses too. Would the Empire risk alienating others in the continent while they bled out? Likely not—they’d choose a temporary peace.
But their gateway assault was halted. In the midst of what seemed like a grand Dedolant victory and an apparent Imperial defeat, the Empire’s strategist seized a small opening, countering decisively.
”Ah, look at this! The gate is wide open. What’s stopping us from walking right in?”
Fortunately, Prince Georg III stood guard there—a respected figure even among Dedolant’s commanders, which saved them from falling for the trap. Had it been anyone else, they might’ve walked in, only to ruin their momentum.
Rumors spread about an empty fortress or non-existent forces, but Dedolant largely dismissed these. Did such tactics really align with the strategist’s reputation and prestige? Even less likely given that this was someone who had never once slipped and consistently maintained the upper hand.
Though they avoided the trap, the subsequent stages of Dedolant’s plan began unraveling. One blockage led to another, then another. Their seemingly perfect plan had become a double-edged sword in the chaos.
It was at this moment that both Prince Georg and Dedolant’s command shared a disconcerting thought: perhaps this was exactly what the Empire’s strategist had intended. The entire setup might have been designed to ensnare Dedolant in their own planning, leading them to flail helplessly.
”Artria has urgently requested reinforcements!”
”The 5th Army stationed in Benito reports a need to prepare for contingencies!”
”Reconnaissance reports of an enormous Imperial force heading toward our 1st Army!”
It was impossible to make sense of what was happening. The Empire seemed decided to annihilate Dedolant outright, regardless of the cost.
And so Dedolant found itself forced into a quick conclusion. The situation had flipped—Dedolant, as if bewitched, was slowly sinking into a quagmire.
—
“…Things are going well.”
Indeed, everything was proceeding smoothly. Nothing difficult about it. Our General Staff had already failed, so all I had to do was act in direct opposition. Avoid haste and rash decisions. Take things calmly, one step at a time.
Thankfully, we had the example of failure to guide us. Following their mistakes would surely lead us in the right direction.
Naturally, the Empire’s sheer size far outstripped Dedolant’s, but our massive scale had always drawn quiet resistance. While the rest of the world bowed before us now—save for the west—an Imperial stumble could prompt a sudden rebellion. They all knew how much they’d endured under our rule so far.
The War Ministry and our strategists were all aware of this. Dedolant likely guessed too. This prompted our high command to seek a swift conclusion with a critical blow. Dedolant took advantage by luring us in before delivering a powerful counterblow. Without my “Tragic Lute Performance of Tears,” things might’ve been much worse. If our rear had been swept clean, reorganization would’ve taken at least half a year.
“They probably assumed we’d regroup and believed their own adjustments would be faster.”
After the General Staff changed, I immediately asserted my intentions. This war wouldn’t end easily. Prepare for a long-term battle.
I understand the complaints about money and taxes, but now isn’t the time to conserve resources. Instead of showing our strength quickly, let’s overwhelm them with everything we have to instill fear.
Of course, both the Ministry of Finance and Internal Affairs looked worried. After all, two years ago we clashed in the north, then spent vast sums in the east and south. Now, suggesting a prolonged conflict made them anxious about what would come next.
The Empire is large and resilient, with the strength to withstand any external pressure. Ironically, though, its size makes it vulnerable to internal issues. The higher-ups’ concerns about this aren’t baseless.
But what can be done? The General Staff’s recklessness led them to this point. Politics interfering with war always leads to this: urgency and a narrow focus.
So I decided to lean on my reliable support.
”The Chief of the Imperial Staff is currently the commander of the 1st Army and overseeing everything on the frontlines. Listening to him this time would be wise.”
A small difference from past memories: here, we have an Emperor instead of a President. A man who wields absolute power rather than being voted out of office.
And I’ve earned the full backing and trust of this Emperor.
Once the Emperor gave his approval, I sprang into action. I deployed the magic legions, normally reserved for large-scale battles. As for their complaints? I silenced them with even more support.
There’s nothing like money, except more money. Believe me.
Instead of rushing the western army’s restoration, I played the long game. Dedolant likely had no room to spare either. Why rush reorganization when we had all sides to support?
Expanding the frontlines meant expanding our intelligence networks too. Naturally, this risked exposing Dedolant’s information gaps, making it a win-win.
Not exactly an innovative strategy, right? Not exactly the work of some master tactician?
I’ve already admitted I’m no genius. All I do is avoid repeating failures and simply follow the previously outlined path to victory. Luck’s just on my side, alright?
—
“Sir Chief of Staff, word from the south.”
“What is it?”
“Reports indicate the remnants of the Southern Kingdom’s forces, along with the 4th Legion, are pressuring Benito. The Dedolant forces stationed there appear unable to act freely as expected.”
“Excellent.”
“Yes, sir. It seems your suggestion to establish the Ghost Legion, otherwise known as the Ghost Army, is proving effective.”
While the Empire isn’t some endless conscription machine, deceiving and intimidating the enemy is crucial. Such tricks can only be managed by human ingenuity.
So, yet again, I turned to my past knowledge. The Ghost Army. A strategy the world’s strongest nation once used against an underdog.
A legion designed to deceive the enemy about the movement, size, and positioning of our actual forces.
Fortunately, the Empire benefited from highly advanced cultural expertise available for mobilization. Soon enough, the results of our efforts began pouring in.
”Confirmed: Dedolant’s 5th Army stationed in Benito has fallen for the deception.”
”It’s confirmed: a portion of Dedolant’s forces is moving toward the southern border.”
You thought you were the only ones capable of deception?
Well, guess what—so are we. Long live the Empire! How fortunate I was to be born here in the Empire!
