164. Strategy, Tactics, Schemes, and Deception (2)
*
“This operation is a battle against time.”
“And it’s an extremely unfavorable battle of time for us.”
Fernandez and Aeren briefly exchanged glances. Trained as a Shieldmaiden since childhood, she was already a war monarch with sufficient tactical sense. She knew how to convey more information with a single glance than with words.
-Not bad.
‘If she was born with the qualities of an Archangel, she should be able to handle this much.’
Fernandez nodded and looked down at the map. It was a parchment map crudely depicting the northern continent’s terrain. Though the topography was clumsily stitched together, it lacked no information on tactical terrain.
“If we sail from here to Hazart Kazal, how long would it take via the fastest route?”
“Two days by sea. Five days by land, crossing the mountain range.”
Fernandez stroked his chin as he gazed at the map. Hazart Kazal and Hazart Palan bordered each other around the mountain range. If we invade by sea, it would take two days…
“Frankly speaking, your forces won’t last half a day.”
“I know.”
Distance equals time. Fernandez tapped the map, lost in thought. A pincer operation requires perfect timing on both sides, and Aeren’s forces, even at their best defense, couldn’t hold out for two days.
‘Should I take to the frontlines?’
-We’ll be slower.
Faijashi groaned briefly. The time it would take for Fernandez to kill and push back the enemy soldiers would be longer than the time it would take for Aeren’s forces to be wiped out. In a small skirmish, it might be different, but with the enemy deploying large forces now, partial victories on some fronts wouldn’t lead to overall victory.
‘We must conserve magic.’
Except for minor spells like summoning fog or simple spell counting, the reserves of the Bronze Throne weren’t enough to use so-called ‘signature spells’—those with names.
Moreover, using such spells would immediately catch Sadarkelisa’s attention. For now, we’ve only gathered information that one Inquisition Officer has infiltrated, but if Sadarkelisa becomes fully hostile, conducting operations in the unfamiliar north would be nearly impossible.
Time, troops, and magic are all against us. It would be more hopeful to face an enraged giant with both hands tied. Fernandez narrowed his eyes and glared at the map.
“Is Hazart Turan on our side?”
“They came to our side for alliance negotiations but got caught up in the offensive. Kazaldar’s forces are likely attacking them as well.”
“So Kazaldar is fighting on two fronts?”
“Optimistically, yes. But it’s just speculation. How would we know what’s happening beyond those mountains?”
Fernandez looked at the other cities occupying the southern coastline of the northern continent. Hazart Turan, Hazart Kazal, Hazart Palen. The three largest tribes. And the smaller territories scattered around.
Five days if we go around the mountains, two days by sea. The raid was two days ago, so the enemy forces should be crossing the border by now. That means we have one day left until they reach this ruin.
One day. If we can hold out for just one day, victory is ours. Fernandez slowly closed his eyes. There was no need to glare at the map anymore. His memory could project the map in his mind almost like a photograph.
In his mind, a more three-dimensional and dynamic map unfolded. Once again, a rough hand appeared in the distance. A scaly, crude hand. Sadarkelisa’s hand moved.
-Tap.
Her pieces moved according to her gestures. One by one, like a noose tightening around a throat. Slowly but surely. The capital was in ruins, and we had to assume the enemy’s forces were at their maximum.
On the other hand, Fernandez’s pieces were thin and fragile. A ruin without defenses, warriors engulfed in despair and defeat. In terms of human forces, Hazart Palan was also a major tribe, not inferior in numbers…
‘The variable is the demon.’
As he thought, a dark hand moved smoothly, as if mocking his calculations. The whispers of the Great Demon seemed to echo. ‘What can a single Inquisition Officer do?’
The most flamboyant display in the last battle was somewhat intentional. Sadarkelisa could observe the material world through the eyes of demons. All Demidrakos were her children.
So, all Sadarkelisa knows is Fernandez’s existence. Just a southern warrior with overwhelming force.
Fernandez slowly examined the pieces. Among them stood a woman. She gazed coldly at the battlefield, elegantly holding a pipe, noble and aloof. Puff—. Cigarette smoke lingered at her lips.
‘Our variable is Kirhas, the undefeated field commander of the Great Wilderness.’
Fernandez reached out his hand. His joker card to buy one more day. But at that moment, his hand stopped mid-air. He had told them to prepare for martyrdom. Those words applied equally to everyone who had to stay behind as bait.
If Fernandez ordered her to help them, she would follow without a word. But that would mean she had to prepare for death.
-Saruk.
At that moment. A warm hand covered Fernandez’s. As he slowly opened his eyes from his meditation, Kirhas stood before him.
“Your Excellency.”
Kirhas’s turquoise eyes sparkled. Fernandez silently gazed at her.
-Damn it. Haha, truly impressive.
Faijashi chuckled. Narrowing down from the realm of grand strategy…
When it comes to tactical units, there is no better field commander in the north than her. Therefore, having spent the longest time with Fernandez, she read his strategy from his silent, troubled expression.
“I’ll do it.”
She willingly offered to be the bait, buying Fernandez the day he needed. Kirhas’s eyes told him as much.
I can’t lose you. You must shine in greater battles and be treated as a hero. Instead of saying that, Fernandez—
“I’ll trust you.”
He could only say that, looking into her unwavering eyes. Hearing this, Kirhas smiled brightly.
“I, too, will trust Your Excellency.”
Gaining a day is a necessary condition for the operation. And the success of the operation depends on striking deep into enemy territory within that day.
It’s like fighting a fully armed, enraged giant with your limbs tied. It meant fully trusting in the success of this unreasonable feat.
So, Fernandez placed his hand on her head. She lowered her eyes and let out a small growl. Using that gesture as his answer, Fernandez soon spoke to Aeren, who was looking at the map.
“I’ll revise the plan.”
“How?”
“Transfer the troops to me. I’ll land directly at Hazart Kazal. Aeren, you head towards the Turandar Clan. Gather reinforcements and prepare for battle. In case of emergency, you can at least lay the groundwork for revenge.”
“…Are you telling me to abandon my clan?”
“No. I’m entrusting it to you. To this child here.”
Fernandez said this and briefly looked at Kirhas. Feeling his touch, Kirhas slightly opened her eyes.
“The best field commander in the Material World will buy us the day we need.”
On the battlefield, distance is time, and time is an absolute resource. The enemy forces have one day to arrive, and it takes two days for Fernandez to strike deep into Kazaldar.
Even if all operations succeed, that ‘one day’ is absolutely insufficient. It was simple arithmetic, an insurmountable physical limit, but Fernandez believed this child could secure it.
Aeren made a bewildered expression for a moment, then looked into Fernandez’s eyes and realized he was serious.
“Let’s hear it. How will you buy that day?”
*
Sailing through a destroyed strait with unlit lighthouses, numerous wrecks, and hidden reefs in the dead of night is extremely dangerous. Even more so when you can’t even light a lantern.
Fernandez sat quietly in the boat, occasionally gesturing. The warriors holding the oars felt as if they were running blindfolded towards a cliff, filled with terror.
The deep-strike force sent urgently to Hazart Kazal. With only a dozen men on a single fast boat, Fernandez gave this order upon boarding:
‘Just go straight with all your might in the direction I point.’
In a time-sensitive situation, there was no room for persuasion or finding a safer method. Fernandez simply ordered them to move fast and straight. The warriors, half-yielding to the mighty warrior who could slay demons in three strikes, rowed.
-Swoosh…
Soon, the wind changed direction. The rowers, all seasoned sailors from the north, felt the shift in the current and the change in the wind’s touch. To them, the strait was like home.
So, they realized the kind of miracle they had just performed and shuddered. They had navigated at full speed through the wreckage of battle, past destroyed lighthouses and the reefs of the port.
Had there been even a single misstep, the wooden fast boat would have run aground. In the dark night, they would have sunk into the sea with no one to save them.
They had succeeded in what would have been difficult even in broad daylight, in the pitch-black night, simply by following gestures and going straight! The warriors, forgetting to row, stared blankly at Fernandez, who sat calmly.
“Tired?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then why are you all resting? We’ve just cleared the strait. We need to keep moving for two days without rest.”
Fernandez slightly opened his eyes and spoke. At his words, the warriors hurriedly began rowing again. The fast boat glided across the open sea with creaking friction sounds.
Fernandez, hearing the sounds, sank back into his ritual. The sound of the sea breeze ringing the anchor, the sensation of the current flowing beneath the hull, the faint echoes of magic scattered in the atmosphere and their reflections.
His senses, heightened despite his closed eyes, and the intuition formed by their intertwining. The beastman quietly folded. [The Third Eye]. Or the magic called [Vision Sight].
In his mind’s eye, emerald sparks flew, and his pupils burned. His eyes did not use physical vision. He observed events within a certain radius.
The currents and the fish beneath, the wind and the insects within, or the birds. Or the magic swimming between the winds. The flow. Like prophets, he had become a kind of information-reflecting entity.
A vision that directly observed the information generated by the collision and vortex of events. A vision beyond the limits of the body and cognitive abilities, the sight of an absolute being.
-Thump, thump, thump, thump.
His heart raced madly. His brain, overheated to the brink of overload, felt like it was boiling. As with all powerful magic, Vision Sight came with a terrible backlash.
Madness from excessive information perception. And a reduction in lifespan. But fortunately, for Fernandez, both were merely expendable resources.
After a dry cough, blood spurted from his lips due to the excessively high blood pressure damaging his organs.
Fernandez, not even thinking to wipe his lips, continuously activated Vision Sight. Avoiding any potential reefs, driftwood, or wreckage of sunken ships. Succeeding in the acrobatics of racing through them at full speed.
Madness was his talent, and lifespan his favorite consumable. So, to Fernandez, this magic had no side effects. Thinking so, he pointed his finger again.
Towards where Sadarkelisa would be crouching.
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