“Prince Kael! Oh gosh, are you alright?!”
“Your Highness Princess.”
“Stay still! bl**d, there’s bl**d! SO MUCH bl**d!!”
“Your Highness Princess?”
“Keep talking. Keep breathing!”
“….”
Your Highness Princess. If someone heard this, they’d think I’ve got an arrow lodged in my chest or something.
It was just a close call with a stray arrow that grazed my neck—way too dramatic if you ask me.
Ah, sure, if it had gone a little deeper, it might’ve been a nasty wound, no denying that.
But the Klawitz family doesn’t earn its reputation for nothing. Our nature always surfaces in times like these.
You’d think after getting injured someone might freak out—but nah, instead, I just nonchalantly brush it off like, “Eh, it’s nothing. I’m not dying.”
Sound familiar? My father used to do the same back on the battlefield, and guess what? He always got yelled at by my mother for it later. Classic.
“Your Highness, I’m absolutely fine. Look! The wound isn’t that deep.”
“That’s not something you can casually brush off! Prince Kael, you’re one of the most important figures who will shape the future of our empire! Whether the wound is big or small, it’s still a wound!”
“Besides, it wasn’t even aimed at me in the first place. Just lucky that it made it this far.”
“Don’t give me such nonsense! Do you know how dangerous a battlefield is?! This is where even the highest-ranking commanders can meet their end unexpectedly!”
Scary. The princess’s intensity is so overwhelming that I can barely muster up the courage to say anything else.
It’s almost like how a husband who works himself to exhaustion gets scolded by his wife. That’s this situation in a nutshell.
In the end, Her Highness dragged me to the rear line and personally tended to my minor injury.
She’s gently pressing a clean bandage to the wound and wrapping it with a bandage… though, Your Highness, a little gentler wouldn’t hurt.
“There, rest here for a moment.”
“No, I must return to my post.”
“Are you really necessary out there, considering you’re not technically a commander? Staff officers are supposed to stay in safer areas.”
“But—”
“It’s not just about lacking strength or bravery; losing staff officers unnecessarily could be catastrophic for an army. Commanders have their duties, strategists have theirs. It’s common sense, Prince Kael.”
“…”
She’s right. The brain doesn’t need to do the work of the hands and feet. After all, if the head gets cracked because the body got overworked, THAT’S the worst possible outcome.
Even someone like Master Fang Tong from the ancient tales—he who allegedly brought down enemy armies with his ingenious strategies—fell victim to a stray arrow in the Battle of Luo Castle, didn’t he? It would’ve left Lord Liu Bei spitting bl**d at the loss of such a key strategist.
“Your Highness Princess.”
Still, even so…
“I intend to return to my position.”
“Prince Kael!”
“This is my battle, my responsibility. Though I cannot fight alongside them, I must at least be there with them—to witness those fighting, those getting hurt, and… those falling.”
Father’s words echo in my mind. Whether commanding from the front or strategizing from behind, the duty is the same: to observe and internalize the reality of combat.
We must understand the horrors of war before discussing or planning for the future.
“So, I must go back.”
“…”
Fortunately, the princess no longer tried to stop me.
She sighed deeply, then turned her sharp gaze back on me.
“So, this is what you meant earlier when you told me to ‘return quickly,’ huh?”
“Your Highness, you and I are completely different. A mere noble versus a princess—”
“True, a war might continue without a princess, but losing someone who can shape the battlefield like this would be disastrous. Even your sister would’ve sent you back out there.”
Luck is all it is. I tried to say so but got shut down again.
Honestly, it’s frustrating. If you step back and consider it objectively, everything I’ve done is just pure luck.
Sure, I played with the enemy’s psychology, but what if one crucial piece hadn’t fallen into place as expected? The whole elaborate plan would crumble before it even started.
Geniuses strategists, they have backup plans—secondary schemes or foolproof strategies—but me? I’m just following formulas, not creating them.
—
WAHHH! As I rejoin the legion ranks, the massive roar of thousands fills my ears.
Clashing blades, explosions from scattered flames, and screams mingle in cacophony. A single cry is often followed by a pained shriek of despair.
This, THIS is war—the most intricate and brutal form of violence mankind has ever devised. Seeing this massive field of hate and chaos ahead makes my knees tremble involuntarily.
“Your Highness Princess.”
“Shall I hide now? You made the wise decision.”
“Actually, it’s not about that. Since you keep referring to me as a strategist—”
“A strategist is a strategist. What else would you call someone like you?”
As I was about to object, the princess cut me off swiftly.
“You claimed this was a situation you created, a battle you led, didn’t you? If so, aren’t you admitting you’re a strategist?”
“No, that’s not entirely correct…”
Oh come on, Princess! You’re supposed to listen to someone’s explanation before jumping to conclusions! If you turn away dismissively like that, how embarrassing is that for me?!
“Your Highness, calling someone like me a strategist will make real strategists weep in anguish.”
“Mhmm.”
“Please listen. These strategists create plans so advanced that battles like this feel trivial to them…”
“Mhmm. Sure they do.”
Ugh. No point arguing. She’s clearly not interested in listening.
Why doesn’t she believe me?! If an actual master strategist were here, they’d’ve conjured up a southern gale by now!
“Wait, where’s Kaya? Why the heck isn’t she here yet?”
When a random stray arrow almost hit me, Kaya went bonkers, as expected.
She stared at me bleeding and then rushed off somewhere. When I asked her what she was doing, she claimed she’d return with a big shield. Sounded reasonable enough, so I told her to hurry back—but since then, no word.
Please tell me she isn’t trying to steal someone else’s shield! That would just make things worse.
Oh man, the noble heir who stole a soldier’s shield? Sounds like a headline that would sell out papers in a heartbeat.
“Prince Kael?”
“Let’s drop the strategist talk for now, Your Highness. We can continue later…”
“That’s not what I meant! Look, look over there!”
Look where?! Following her gesture, I shifted my gaze.
Far ahead in the dim distance, in the frontlines of the empire’s 7th Legion clashing with the Burkhai forces, a swirling typhoon seems to rage.
Each time it moves, Burkhai soldiers are sent flying in every direction.
“What IS that?!”
At first, I thought it was a literal windstorm, but nope.
Up close, it was a war horse—with a mounted rider. The rider is surprisingly petite, holding an impossibly long spear, making the figure look even smaller.
Yet, with every swing of that spear, the Burkhai soldiers collapse.
As I watched in stunned silence, a primordial instinct pushed out a single name.
“Kaya!”
—
*
The Burkhai command was marshaling their forces, pushing to the limits.
“ATTACK! ATTACK!!”
“Push forward! Harder, harder! If we lose here—no, if we fail to secure a victory, even if we survive, your families and kinsfolk will become slaves to the Empire!”
“If you think you’re going to d*e, take someone down with you! Cut, stab, and d*e! Or if you must, bite!”
Just moments ago, they were preparing for defense and counterattacks against the empire’s legions.
But suddenly, the roles reversed. Defenders turned attackers.
While it caused a bit of confusion, it was manageable.
“The Imperial 17th Legion has appeared on our left flank!”
“Pay no heed. They’re practically nonexistent since they’ve been bled dry supporting the 7th Legion! The empire’s main force is concentrated in the center and the left flank! We’re tasked merely with holding them off! Our goal is the 7th Legion, press on!”
One victory. Somehow, we just need one more decisive victory. Only that can secure the empire’s advance forces.
Even if not, it will provide leverage to convince Caden that we’re worth supporting.
The empire is vast, boasting almost 400,000 soldiers, but those numbers are scattered across all its borders.
Thus, the max it can deploy against Burkhai is around 100,000. We, combined with Caden, manage to muster about 80,000.
“So, Caden’s just waiting and seeing. Once he judges we have a chance, he’ll undoubtedly join us and press down on the Empire!”
Thus, this battle is critical.
One more decisive victory, and Burkhai will establish its dominance. The morale of the Imperial army will drop, making this a worthwhile endeavor.
Just a little more. Just one tiny advantage. Anything to tip the scales.
The decisive factor can come from the smallest shift on this tense battlefield.
I just pray for our side to deliver that.
—
“UAAAAAHHH!!”
“Screams erupted from the front lines!”
It’s not because of our attack.
In fact, the frontline seems to be disintegrating at an alarming rate.
“One lone rider’s causing chaos in our ranks!”
“Send out knights! We can k*ll a hundred of them and regain momentum!”
“Flank them! Make them fall off their horse!”
In war, there’s no such thing as fair play.
It seems they’re trying to boost morale with this tactic, but it’ll likely backfire instead.
“Even if we knock down a few of those riders, the opposite effect will probably result.”
The real problem? The rider is far beyond their expectations.
“What IS that?!”
“Holy cr*p! What is THIS?!”
“AAAHHHH!!!”
When the knights’ heads were cleaved off in one swing. When every arrow and net they sent at her was slashed to pieces midair. When her rampage through the ranks became clear and unmistakable like a beast unleashed upon the battlefield.
The Burkhai forces realized the Empire had more than they’d revealed.
“HOLD! STOP HER!”
“sh*t! SHIIIITTT!”
“AAAHHHH!”
To think one person could command such presence—it was mind-blowing.
Whether foot soldiers or seasoned knights, they all met their untimely ends under her spear.
Shields, spears, swords—all shattered in a single strike.
Even an individual’s prowess changing the course of battle is exceedingly rare.
Yet, when someone with such exceptional strength arrives, the tide of battle, the balance, and the direction of victory—all change in an instant.
How much more are they hiding?
Just how much did we underestimate them?
Looking at the charging lone figure in imperial armor, they instinctively knew.
This battle. No, this war—they had lost.
