episode_0004

Personally, I believe tactical ability is about how well one can read the opponent’s hand.

If I have heavily armored dwarf infantry, the Empress has ordinary human spearmen.

If I have a chariot firing peculiar cannons, the Empress has ordinary human archers.

And right now, there’s something the Empress has that I don’t—

The Empire’s heavily armored knights and cavalry.

Though their equipment, training, and even the quality of their horses vary widely, cavalry inherently holds tactical value.

If the tactical value of infantry and archers is set at 1, I’d say cavalry holds at least three times that.

The speed from utilizing horses, the combined weight and destructive force of horse and rider—

These are advantages no other unit can replicate.

And the fact that dwarves barely have any cavalry to speak of—

That alone could be considered the greatest weakness of the dwarven race in this world.

‘Well, dwarves can’t ride horses, after all…’

The dwarf mountain-goat chariots exist to overcome this, but unfortunately, chariots are inherently cumbersome.

As seen just now when they toppled over after a few arrows, the animals pulling them, the drivers, and the chariots themselves—any slight disruption easily disables them.

There’s also the somewhat ridiculous mountain-goat cavalry, but goats can’t possibly match horses in size or strength.

In other words, the idea of those dwarf goat riders being as heavily armored as knights is pure fantasy.

I checked before the battle—forget proper armor, equipping even one or two weapons seems to be their limit.

Still, that should be enough.

“Pull back the chariots and prepare for close combat.”

One fortunate thing was that a stream ran perfectly along the left flank of my dwarf legion, with marshy ground making the terrain muddy.

Not impassable, but difficult for heavy cavalry to traverse mid-battle.

Moreover, to the right was a low but steep enough cliff—another obstacle the human cavalry would struggle to maneuver around.

This drastically reduced the chance of the Empress’ knights circling behind my forces for a rear assault.

“Now then…”

The surprise show of the cannon chariots was over. All I could do now was hold out until my prepared stratagem took effect.

With the skirmish concluded, the real battle was just beginning.

The human spearmen the Empress sent forward charged with a roar, clashing against the dwarves who finally raised their shields.

For a moment, the dwarf infantry seemed to stagger under the humans’ weight, but their low center of gravity held firm, and soon swords and axes were drawn on both sides.

“Waaaah!!”

“Uoooh!!”

Despite the height difference, dwarves and humans fought fiercely, trading blows. Here, the humans’ advantage against dwarves began to show.

Objectively speaking, height and reach make a significant difference in combat.

Though dwarves possess formidable strength, their picks and axes are better suited for downward strikes than upward swings.

If they can’t land hits, strength means nothing. If this close combat continued, the dwarves would slowly be pushed back.

But that’s what reserves are for—to turn the tide.

“Dwarf halberdiers, forward!”

The halberd-wielding unit, waiting until now, charged into the gaps created by the clash between the Empress’ forces and the dwarves.

Though their short legs made speed difficult, their sheer weight ensured enough impact to tangle the seemingly faltering front lines.

Yet I knew the trial wasn’t over.

While cavalry couldn’t easily flank me, the front had no obstacles beyond a slight slope.

Meaning the Empress’ main force—her heavy cavalry and knights—would soon charge.

“Here they come…!”

The Empress’ infantry briefly retreated to clear the way, while her archers rained arrows to prevent pursuit.

And the moment the arrow storm ended, her cavalry struck with impeccable timing.

An absurdly coordinated assault crashed into my dwarf infantry.

“Ah—!”

The moment the cavalry charged, the Margrave, who had been engrossed in watching, let out a cry without noticing who had approached beside him.

Margrave of Luthicia, Albert von Beletia.

Despite bearing the epithet “Shield of the East”, this high noble was never well-regarded for his military prowess, whether in temperament or skill.

Even so, he could tell that this attack would be devastating to his vassal’s forces.

“As expected of a genius…”

A genius—that was how the Empress was quietly referred to in the Military Research Department.

Of course, it wasn’t just her simulated battle skills or her flawless memory that earned her the title.

Some students had real combat experience before enrolling, and exceptional memory and comprehension were baseline requirements for admission.

Albert himself had passed the entrance exam by memorizing vast amounts of material, despite his poor simulated battle performance.

And the professors, all prodigies in their own right, were no exception.

Yet everyone called her a genius because of her innate sense for seizing opportunities.

Even with identical troops and conditions, she always deployed reserves at the perfect moment.

It wasn’t just about cavalry timing. The seamless coordination of infantry, archers, and cavalry just now was another example.

That level of synergy couldn’t be replicated through practice alone. It was an inborn talent, and that was why she was called a genius.

So what did that make Albert, who had beaten her—albeit with unfamiliar tactics?

Truthfully, despite his amiable smile, Albert von Beletia knew:

The Empress had never fought him at her full strength.

Complacency.

In any history of this world, it was the leading cause of death for those called geniuses.

The Empress was fortunate that her complacency had only cost her a match, not her life.

Now, she wouldn’t underestimate anyone again.

How ironic.

“Too lost in thought to notice someone approaching?”

A deep, feminine voice settled beside Albert.

Snow-white hair reminiscent of northern winters, streaked with black strands marking her allegiance.

Wolf-like ears perked atop her head, and sharp crimson eyes with beast-like pupils…

Only one woman with such features could address a high noble like Albert so casually.

Erna Skillingar Harpagr.

Daughter of the Duke of Vaiken, a northern noble whose influence rivaled the king’s.

In other words, Albert von Beletia’s fiancée.

“You said you weren’t coming today. What brings you here, my lady?”

“I told you not to call me ‘my lady.’”

Crossing her arms, Erna watched the chaotic projection of the battle before asking:

“I wasn’t planning to come, but I heard the Empress was playing around with your vassal, so I got curious… So, what’s going on?”

“Well, you see…”

As Albert explained, the situation on-screen grew even more complex.

Whenever the dwarf infantry barely repelled the Empress’ heavy cavalry, her resting infantry would surge forward again.

Both sides had taken heavy losses, and morale was dropping—some soldiers even raising white flags to retreat.

At a glance, the dwarves seemed to be at a disadvantage.

The Empress’ forces were relentlessly attacking, while the dwarves could only hold their ground, unable to mount an offensive.

Whenever they tried, the Empress’ archers would suppress them, and though their shields and armor minimized damage, the pressure was mounting.

The only silver lining was that the Empress’ archers seemed nearly out of arrows.

Occasionally, the dwarves’ cannon chariots would reappear for suppressing fire, but that was their only counter.

Baron Hevel had no way to decisively finish off the Empress’ infantry or pin down her cavalry.

“Ah—so that’s how you use those centaurs? Strange for you to employ such tactics, given your usual disinterest.”

“Hence my vassal’s current struggles…”

As Erna watched the Empress’ cavalry trampling dwarves, only for them to cling on and retaliate with halberds, she took a sip from her canteen and remarked:

“But it looks like your vassal’s winning.”

“…Hm?”

“Come on, you know her personality best. If she were truly hopeless, she’d have given up already. The fact that she’s holding on despite this means she’s got something planned.”

“That ‘something’ being…”

Albert’s eyes flickered as the screen briefly showed the cliff on the dwarves’ right flank.

A perfect point. If troops moved beneath it, they could bypass the Empress’ line of sight entirely.

“Don’t tell me—the cliff?”

But few armies could traverse cliffs on a large scale.

Unless they were griffin knights or giants capable of scaling terrain, that is.

Ah, but ordinary armies couldn’t.

Those mountain goats filling the screen? They could climb cliffs.

The next moment, as the heavy cavalry faltered, Baron Hevel’s forces, barely holding on, launched an all-out assault.

Their goal was singular:

To ensure the dwarf goat cavalry descending the cliff—

Captured the Empress herself!

“…Oh.”

Had she truly not anticipated this?

Gasps erupted not just from Erna, but from every spectator.