The Gori Kingdom. The realm closest to Benito, with nothing particularly special about it.
Its relations with the Empire are just… meh. After all, it doesn’t border the sea, so no trade.
And apparently, I’ve heard that they rely way too much on Benito, which got them into a pretty tight spot this time.
“Are you saying their troop count is close to 20,000?”
“Yes, Prince Kael.”
“…That’s basically pulling out every last man they’ve got, leaving no one behind to defend their own borders, right?”
Gori over there has roughly the same national strength as Porland to the east.
Though… if we’re being fair, Gori’s doing a bit better. At least they’re not getting squeezed from both sides by their neighbors like Porland.
Anyway, even if they scrape together every last soldier they’ve got, they’ve barely managed to hit around 20,000.
And every last one of them is right now standing directly in front of our Imperial Legion.
“Commander, forgive me for asking, but how do our Sixth Legion’s forces compare to theirs?”
“In open terrain, a frontal assault would guarantee us 100% victory. However, since they’re currently on defense, that margin will drop somewhat.”
“Regardless, you’re saying there’s no doubt that we’ll win in the end.”
That’s all that matters. Gori surely knows that fact, too.
There’s absolutely no way they can defeat the Imperial Legion. But if they hold their ground tightly enough… they might be able to survive for a bit.
Under no circumstances, however, should they abandon this advantageous position.
Which is why they’ve likely taken up their position before us with nothing but sheer willpower — desperately clutching at the hope that they can hold out.
“All I ask is that you follow my instructions, Commander.”
“Yes, Prince. Though… may I say something?”
The Sixth Legion Commander, who had been glancing around nervously, scratched his cheek before continuing.
“Do we really have to go with this plan? Yes, their position is advantageous, but for a place like Gori… our Sixth Legion should be able to overpower them head-on.”
“I know that as well. Gori’s nowhere near as skilled as the Empire, and as for our Sixth Legion… it ranks among the finest armies in the south. Do you think I’m unaware of that?”
Their pride is well-founded, not baseless arrogance. Those 20,000 over there have literally scraped every last man they could find. On the other hand, our side consists of hand-picked elite troops of equivalent number—clearly giving us the overwhelming advantage.
But, even with elites, in the end, battles always mean casualties. The Empire already spends astronomical sums on military expenses alone, and if we add further human losses, victory would be hollow at best.
“Besides, there will always be battles to fight, whether now or later. I don’t want to needlessly lose proud members of the Imperial Legion—especially not against Gori.”
“… I understand. Forgive me, Prince.”
“No need to apologize. I appreciate your willingness to follow my guidance.”
Though I hold the title of advisor, my role is purely to give suggestions. The decisions that follow? That’s entirely up to the Commander.
So, the fact that he’s listening to my suggestions is a great honor in itself.
“In that case, I’ll go check the preparation status.”
The Commander left first, leaving me standing with crossed arms, gazing forward.
The Gori Kingdom. Troop count: 20,000. We need to break through them if we want to put pressure on the south. This will serve as the metaphorical ‘stick’ I mentioned earlier.
That said, I have no intention of actually using this stick in a way that causes bloodshed. That would be a waste—what if it got damaged in the process? Too tragic.
That stick’s purpose, after all, is to have a designated lunatic to whack at some point. But…
“It’s not like people only understand pain after getting beaten.”
If you swing the stick around in the air, everyone should already conclude: “Oh. If that hits me, my skull’s gonna crack.”
Imagine doing this day and night, and think about what the opposing side must feel like watching this display.
“Prince Kael.”
“Is something wrong, Commander?”
“All preparations are complete.”
“Does that mean the Gori forces are indeed personally led by their king?”
“Yes, he’s officially taking on the role of commander-in-chief himself.”
“Perfect.”
The king leads almost all of their armies, so his participation here is unsurprising. However, thanks to this, things are a bit easier for us—kings, after all, are primarily figureheads. Most aren’t military experts, and it’s precisely because of this royal figure that genuine strategic advisors may hesitate to voice their own opinions.
“Preemptively ensure that the soldiers assigned for ‘that task’ get plenty of rest. They’ll need to rise early tomorrow.”
Because they’re going to have a long day ahead.
The southern continent. The Gori Kingdom’s First Army.
Actually, calling it the First Army is just formal. We might as well call it the entire army. Practically every last soldier who can fight has been pulled into this effort for defense.
So… who defends the homeland now? That’s been handed over to Benito. Though that does feel a bit unsettling, what can we do? We’ve leaned on them so much over the years. There’s no room left to negotiate now.
At this point, we’d probably have to repay double everything we’ve taken if we backed out now.
“Your Majesty, the Imperial Army has arrived.”
With all national forces gathered, the king naturally assumes the position of commander-in-chief. Ideally, the king would hold the title but leave the tactical decisions to someone more knowledgeable. But the King of Gori believes that he must take direct control.
“Weakness cannot be shown. For a kingdom like ours, with no standout traits, to make a name for itself, only I, the king, can lead Gori’s forces against the Empire’s Legion.”
The Empire’s pride and joy, the Imperial Legion, specifically the Sixth Legion this time. Oh, and there’s also a strategist, apparently famed across the eastern front.
Of course, saying we’re not scared would be a lie. Claiming we’re not nervous would be a lie as well.
However, precisely because of this, the king must remain steadfast. Only his resolve can boost morale, and success here will help solidify Gori’s status in the southern territories.
“We have nothing to worry about. The Imperial Legion, no matter what, must pass through this place.”
“That’s correct, Your Majesty.”
“There are alternate routes, yes, but all of them take days of travel. In the end, they’ll have no choice but to come here—where they have no real advantage.”
This is why Gori has been able to stand against the Empire with some semblance of confidence.
We’re the defenders, they’re the attackers. History has already shown who enjoys the edge.
Though, yes, attackers do sometimes win in history—but usually that’s because defenders had weak points or became complacent. Neither of which applies to us.
The King himself is here. There’s no one crazy enough to suggest surrender. There won’t be any traitors, because there simply hasn’t been enough time for such things.
‘And most importantly, we’re not complacent here in Gori.’
Of course the Imperial Legion is terrifying. And that strategist? Can’t remember his name fully, but I know he’s young—very young. He was infamous for turning eastern kingdoms against each other, betraying and backstabbing them.
Everyone who lost in those encounters were caught off guard, not knowing about this strategist beforehand. We, on the other hand, know everything. No tricks, no manipulation—they’ll find it impossible to sway us.
All we need is to hold our ground. Others will do the rest for us.
“Your Majesty.”
The king decided he would do everything within his power. For instance, he personally hears even the smallest of reports.
“Yes? What about the movements of the Imperial Legion?”
“At first, nothing unusual. However, something has changed recently.”
“Changed?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. From what I see, they appear to be preparing for a night raid.”
A night raid? Sure, that’s plausible. The Empire would naturally want to minimize casualties and break through as efficiently as possible. It’s a pragmatic decision based on training and experience.
The King, having reached this conclusion, immediately issued an order.
“Prepare for the night raid. Make sure no one, under any circumstances, falls asleep tonight.”
The commanders followed the king’s order without hesitation. It was logical, given the intelligence report, though concerns lingered over the soldiers’ lack of rest.
As night fell…
—BOOM! BOOM!
—BLOW! BLOW!
“Enemies! Enemies!”
“A night raid! Get ready!”
“Just follow the drills! Stick to them, and you’ll survive!”
In the blink of an eye, the Gori camp lit up with torches as soldiers scrambled into position.
Though fatigue was evident, tension dominated their expressions.
—BOOM! BOOM!!
—BLOW! BLOW!
The thunder of drums and trumpets from the Imperial Legion blared furiously across the field. Every soldier—from the king to the lowliest footman—tensed up accordingly.
“…?”
“Is the Empire not attacking?”
“Then that means….”
Was it all a trick? A baited bluff to mess with their heads?
The officers relayed this information to their king with a mix of exasperation and frustration.
The king, too, prepared to order his troops to rest until another realization struck him sharply.
—BLOW!! BOOM!!
The horns and drums blared again, signaling an attack.
Startled, the king and commanders rushed back to their posts. But what awaited them was merely the distant, maddening sound of noise.
“Your Highness, this can’t continue.”
“This subordinate agrees. Perhaps we should let the soldiers rest…”
“No.”
The king shook his head.
“Your Highness?”
“Did you not hear? The Empire’s not just an army. That so-called genius strategist is also present. This could very well be his plan to lower our guard. If we relax, a real night raid will devastate us.”
The commanders knew the other possibility—this could just be an effort to wear down their army physically and mentally. However, in that moment, the king’s concern felt more reasonable.
Yes, that strategist had pulled off insane tricks before. They could afford zero room for complacency, even if this was all a trap.
“Then we’ll double the guard.”
“Make it triple. I’m feeling uneasy. Just in case.”
“…Yes, Your Highness. As you command.”
And thus, for three days, the same routine continued.
Even with rotating shifts and increased numbers of guards, how could anyone remain sane when these noises echoed every night and early morning? This was the Imperial Legion. They had them surrounded, and no one dared to relax—not when d*ath could come at any moment.
The Gori soldiers all knew they couldn’t win in a direct fight against the Empire.
And whether it’s a trick or a strategy, those haunting noises ensured no one got proper sleep. The psychological toll was already taking its toll without a single battle being waged.
This isn’t about brute force or ignorance.
This is about fear. Pure, unrelenting fear.
