Pavilion Frontline. The place where the Empire’s 12th Legion stands unwavering.
In the early days, there were plenty of worries and doubts, but no more. The coalition’s offensives have lost their initial sharpness, and the 12th Legion? Oh, they’re as solid as a rock. No matter what tricks the enemy tries, the Empire’s advance and supply lines remain unbreakable.
All of this can be credited to a certain strategist who appeared out of nowhere, dropped some genius advice, then vanished like the wind. Ironically, the strategist themselves would deny it, claiming they’re neither important nor a strategist. Go figure.
Certainly, the unexpected loss of the 7th Legion was a shock, but the weakening of the coalition’s strength is undeniable. Losing a battle doesn’t mean losing the war. What matters is how you recover, what lessons you learn, and how you exploit the cracks that form in the aftermath.
“Legion Commander!”
In front of the 12th Legion Commander arrived an unexpected letter.
“Sent by Lord Kael, you say?”
“Yes, Your Excellency. Though technically, it’s from Princess, delivered by a messenger. Nevertheless, we’ve confirmed that the contents are indeed from Lord Kael.”
“What on earth could this be about?”
Out of nowhere, the Second Princess showed up right in front of the 7th Legion. Apparently, she’d been moving secretly, even the military brass weren’t fully aware. The 12th Legion was surprised, but goodness only knows how the 7th Legion must’ve reacted.
Funny enough, her visit did wonders for the 7th Legion’s morale.
The 7th Legion is praising the princess for her personal visit, moved by the compassion of His Majesty the Emperor and Her Highness the Crown Princess. Long live the Empire! But…
As much as they’d all like to believe that, something about this all feels like a setup orchestrated by Lord Kael. That’s the kind of strategy he’d dream up. The Legion Commander was certain of it—no, absolutely confident. Why else would he stay so low-key despite achieving so much? Probably his detached demeanor in the face of accolades.
What a strange fellow. Everyone else at his age is bending over backward trying to stand out, yet this young man is busy humbling himself. If only my own son had a fraction of Lord Kael’s sense of duty, I’d worry less…
“Well, hand over that letter, then.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Though Kael wrote it, the formal sender was none other than the Empire’s Second Princess. Taking care not to damage its contents, the Legion Commander carefully opened the letter and began reading meticulously.
“…Hmm. Hahaha.”
Upon finishing the message, the Legion Commander couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Your Excellency?”
“Hahaha! Incredible! Lord Kael, are you really still denying you’re a strategist? This screams tactics and strategy. Any idiot can see that.”
Was the Legion Commander muttering to himself or quietly sighing to someone else? Whatever the case, the aide stood silently, sensing his commander’s mood.
“Aide.”
“Y-Yes, Your Excellency!”
“Explain to me the current situation at the Pavilion Frontline.”
A sudden and unexpected order, but good soldiers follow orders regardless.
“The Pavilion Frontline, sir. Our 12th Legion currently controls the key chokepoint and occupies two commanding heights nearby.”
“And the enemy?”
“The coalition forces initially moved in unison, but lately, they’ve started showing signs of friction. They’re keeping more distance between their camps, subtly checking each other.”
The Legion Commander waved his hand to cut him off. Good enough. The Pavillion Frontline is currently split among the three kingdoms. They’re not fully fractured yet; any attack would still trigger a unified response. But there’s enough division between their command structures for them to maintain distance.
“Total encirclement is still difficult. We might even get surrounded ourselves if we’re not careful. Just keeping them pinned down here is already a victory.”
Hence, the task Kael entrusted to him could indeed be carried out.
“Aide. Deliver this letter to the Porland camp via a covert messenger.”
“Covertly?”
“It’s fine if it’s discovered—it might even be better—but let’s aim to avoid detection if possible.”
The letter clearly stated: proceeding quietly is in the Empire’s best interest. This isn’t about pleading with the enemy to figure things out; it’s about smartly tilting the scales.
“I’ll see to it.”
As the aide left, the Legion Commander reflected further.
No one else could piece together the overall situation, the potential shifts, and exploit enemy strengths and weaknesses like Kael. He insists he’s no good at tactics, and maybe that’s somewhat true, but strategically? He’s leagues ahead of everyone else.
Lord Kael, you’re basically born for this strategizing business.
No matter how much the man himself would deny it with his dying breath!
—
Meanwhile, on the coalition’s side at the Pavilion Frontline, the commander-in-chief was still nominally Lord Bethel of Porland. But his authority has taken a severe beating. Commander? Barely.
Porland, being the weakest of the three eastern kingdoms, was ironically kept in the leadership role because neither Burkhay nor Caden wanted to replace him. It was simpler to leave him in charge, knowing Porland would be the automatic scapegoat if the campaign failed.
They know: if Porland wants to reclaim its voice, victory here is mandatory. They’ll need to throw everything into it, accept heavy losses, weaken further, but for the other two, that’s a win-win.
“d*mn it.”
Today’s assault on the Empire’s 12th Legion proved fruitless. The war effort has stalled. The defender wins when they hold. The aggressor is losing steam.
It’d be less stressful if all other fronts were suffering just as much, but Burkhay just netted a decisive victory against the Empire. No matter their losses, they’re claiming the moral high ground among the three kingdoms. This puts extra pressure on Porland, forcing their army to push harder against the Empire here at Pavilion.
“With this pace, even if we somehow survive this war, the Porland Army might end up crippled.”
Attack? They can’t break through. Retreat? They can’t give up the front.
As Lord Bethel sat in anguish, a new visitor entered the tent.
“A messenger from the Empire again?”
“Just send them away.”
Why invite another provocation after being tricked last time?
“The messenger insists this is something they must deliver specifically to Porland…”
“Send them away, I said!”
Annoyance turned into frustration. But then, determination. Fine. Let’s hear them out.
What have you got? And how does it help Porland?
After meeting the messenger and receiving the letter, Bethel mulled it over for a full day before secretly forwarding it to Porland.
—
In Porland itself, the atmosphere was anything but positive. Their army fights the Empire; their royal court and nobles scheme secretly against their two coalition allies.
Who controls the narrative? Who holds the moral high ground? Who will emerge dominant once the dust settles? Every misstep matters in this high-stakes game.
In the midst of all this, their commander’s secret letter arrives.
“What is this?”
“A letter from the Empire. Apparently, from the Empire’s Second Princess.”
The Porland king was the first to read the contents.
“…”
“Your Majesty?”
“What does the Empire have to say?”
Instead of answering, the king passed it to the nobility. Their reactions varied wildly—some were infuriated, others were seething, a few were deep in thought, while a select few were watching everyone else.
“Your Majesty! This is an insult to Porland! Surely…”
“We must take this seriously. There’s more to this than meets the eye…”
Here’s a quick summary of the letter’s content:
[Mercy comes from those who are stronger and more capable of giving it.]
At first glance, it sounds meaningless. But those in power understand its implications.
“You all need to decide… soon.”
“What if you hold on to your alliance but your supposed allies turn on you anyway?”
“Do you think your neighbors will really help you if you ‘win’ this war?”
“If the Empire wins this war, Porland could survive. But if the coalition wins… will you?”
There’s still time to jump ship, but decisions need to be made. Somewhere in the room, a devilish whisper echoed among the leaders.
Burkhay is focused entirely on defeating the Empire just now.
They suspect us but don’t act because they lack proof.
If Burkhay wins this campaign, the already-isolated Porland will be completely surrounded.
Worse, instead of a three-kingdom alliance, the Eastern order might just become an extension of Burkhay’s dominance.
Porland doesn’t share a direct border with the Empire. But if the Empire retreats, a much stronger Burkhay will dominate them.
Currently, Porland’s only buffer is Caden; but if Caden changes sides, things will go from bad to catastrophic.
The Empire knows this: even if they win, they’ll let Porland survive. But if Burkhay takes charge, it’s likely that one or even two kingdoms will vanish entirely.
Thus, under the guise of Princess’ authority, this letter seems to hint at the Empire’s true objective: shifting the stagnant Pavilion Frontline, fracturing the coalition, and forcing Burkhay into a two-front war. All of this, without a single tactical move, would still put the Empire ahead.
For now, at least, some believed it could work.
