Chapter 137

"You're seeking my advice, you say?" Smith asked, baffled by the situation.

"Of course, as I said. Why, do you not have a way?"

"I do have ways, but…" Smith was struggling to understand what was unfolding.

Robron Welrose, a man whose name usually sent shivers down people's spines, was now humbling himself before him, seeking advice.

"Then give me an answer. You are the strategist, aren't you?" Robron's casual tone hinted at his intentions.

'Shifting the blame?' Smith thought to himself.

It was obvious. Fearing the marquis's wrath, Robron aimed to pass this burden onto Smith.

"My lord—"

"It's commander here."

"Commander, you are delegating authority to me?"

"I said I was asking for advice."

It was just as Smith thought. Robron needed to find a way out of this predicament if things went south, but also a way to get the benefits for himself if things went successfully.

"What's with that look?"

"Sorry, just something in my eye…"

"I understand. But let me ask again, we need to figure out a way out of this."

"I'll think about it."

"Haven't you been here, inside the tent?"

"Pardon?"

"You've seen the battlefield with your own two eyes, haven't you? Or were you just thinking about what to have for dinner while watching our soldiers die?"

Smith didn't hold back this time. He stared at Robron with a narrowed gaze.

"I shall ask again. Why that look?"

"Commander, I am…"

"You are the strategist of Welrose, one who loves and cares for his soldiers more than anyone else. You have been blindsided and driven into a corner because of this foolhardy man before you."

"…?"

An entirely unexpected statement was made. Now that Smith thought about it, he seemed different.

'What's this?'

Smith couldn't hide his confusion. He wondered if this was all just an act, but the weight in the commander's recent words was too substantial.

"We don't have much time. I admit my incompetence. But as a commander, I do not dare delegate my authority to a subordinate. Responsibility and authority must remain in my hands."

"That means…"

"I promise not to act as you're thinking right now. Formal apologies aren't feasible in this situation. So…"

"…"

"Let me say it again. I need your advice on how to overcome this. Even at this very moment, our soldiers are dying."

Smith locked eyes with the commander, and was certain.

'Something has changed.'

The change was too dramatic to easily accept. Wasn't this the same Robron who had been stubbornly pushing forward, his own way just a few hours ago?

But now…

"If you say so, commander… I just thought of a possible solution."

Smith decided to be fooled by this change, just this once.

***

'That's stage one down', Seojin thought, stepping out of the tent and surveying the battleground.

It was still a very disadvantageous situation, and even for someone like Seojin, unfamiliar with warfare tactics, their formation seemed absurdly vulnerable.

'A few games of strategy and even I wouldn't have placed the troops so foolishly', he mused. A competent commander would have never allowed his forces to be encircled by the enemy.

'This formation looks almost like an open invitation to be devoured.'

And Robron did just that. He stubbornly insisted on his own way, despite the strategist's attempts to guide him. This had led to the current disastrous outcome.

'At a glance, the power difference seems to be at least double. Robron's actions must have caused significant losses.' This was essentially a battle already lost. Had it been a war for the survival of a nation, not just a territorial conflict, it wouldn't have been surprising if they had been completely overrun by now.

"Hurry! Break the enemy's formation first and secure a retreat path as a priority," Smith's robust voice echoed from behind. He was busy issuing orders and checking the battlefield.

'It seems they were incredibly frustrated. For them to make a move this quickly once the opportunity presented itself.'

Seojin had approached Smith first for a simple reason. Despite his rank as a strategist, it was the sorrow on his face while watching the battlefield that had particularly struck Seojin. It was a sorrow not for his inability to shine, but for the continuous, senseless deaths of his soldiers.

And his guess was spot on.

"Commander," Seojin was addressed.

"Report. Keep it brief. Assume you're explaining to a kid who knows nothing about war."

Smith hesitated briefly, then nodded as if he had made up his mind. "I've prioritized safely extracting our remaining troops. The situation is dire, but fortunately, the timing is right," Smith began.

"Right timing, you say?"

"Yes, a scheduled break was coming up soon. We can pretend to surrender and suggest finishing the battle tomorrow…"

'A break in the middle of a war?'

As Seojin looked puzzled, Smith elaborated, "Commander… you must be aware of this."

"I wasn't aware. I didn't check, as a commander should have. My apologies."

"No, it's fine," Smith sighed and explained. "It's a territorial war. Both family heads agreed to certain rules to avoid excessive losses in their forces."

"But this situation hardly seems to prevent excessive loss."

"Deaths are inevitable. But a grueling schedule that degrades the quality of the soldiers is a meaningless loss," Smith stated, as if he knew exactly what to say.

He meant that the war was being treated like some kind of sporting event, complete with regular breaks.

'The soldiers who die in the process… they're just investment.'

Though one couldn't ask the enemy to repay the losses, neither side desired to see their shared assets go up in flames.

"So, you're suggesting a truce?"

"If you'd permit it, I'd raise the white flag right now."

"I cannot permit that."

"I understand. I'll send a messenger suggesting we're strategizing for the next move and ask to move the break forward."

"They'll gladly accept it, considering the commander is the incompetent Robron."

"That's…"

Smith hesitated, unable to agree or disagree.

Seojin added sternly, "Convey this additional message. Commander Robron is a complete reckless fool, and true to his nature, he's recklessly planning to charge in without thought. He's a rascal who knows nothing of rules or decorum, so warn them to be wary and not to be caught off guard."

"Excuse me?"

"I will win this war, Sir Smith. And I promise, from this moment on, I will not ignore your advice."

Smith closed his mouth, realizing the extent of this change. It seemed the momentary shift in Robron was merely a pretense of humility. He remained a fool.

"Understood. But the damage will be immense."

"I can see your confidence to turn even this situation to victory."

"To me, the soldiers on this battlefield are merely tools. I am better at using them more than anyone else."

"I understand your ability and intention. What you're worried about will not happen."

"No one worries about the well-being of tools."

"After this play ends, things will be different. I can already envision your distress over this."

Smith's eyes flickered.

"A play, you say?"

"You yourself called it a play, held by the two family heads."

"I called it a territorial war."

"It's the same thing, isn't it? Or would you disagree? I have no intention of letting any more soldiers fall in some ridiculous game. Of course, given my past behavior, it's natural that you might not trust me, but…"

[Stance: Unpromising Persuasion]

With a more serious expression than ever, Seojin spoke, "I need your trust."

* * *

The soldiers of the Welrose and Middleline families felt a sense of relief as they were granted an early break. Wielding weapons for hours while clad in heavy armor was no easy feat. However, this small relief was overshadowed by the looming dread felt by Welrose' forces.

"We're all going to die at this rate. Just when do they plan to end this? If I knew that kid was in charge, I wouldn't have joined this battle," spat one soldier, a veteran who had survived dozens of battles.

"The pay was suspiciously high. That good-for-nothing Robron must have emptied his coffers."

"He's fixated on gaining the family head's approval, that one. Already infamous across other territories for his incompetence, what can you expect?"

The men grumbled. The scars on their faces contorted when they frowned.

These were the relatively better-off people as well. The other soldiers didn't even have the strength to speak. All they could do was silently curse Robron in their hearts, finding small solace in the mere fact that they had survived.

"Look at all these green boys mixed in. We're all doomed, aren't we?" said one.

"Half of us are already gone. You know, last time we just had to pretend to fight."

"The pay was good then."

"And this time it was double. How could I not take it?"

Tron, a seasoned mercenary, kept grumbling. He wasn't scared of dying, but he resented having to fight so many enemies. Even for a mercenary paid to fight, taking a life was never a source of joy.

"There's no way to show mercy when they come at me in such a frenzy. I'll need to sharpen my blade soon. The trouble that fool has caused me…"

"Hey, Tron," called a comrade awkwardly. Tron smirked, as if the situation was amusing.

"What? You want me to watch my mouth? The others probably feel the same, just not saying it. Some even more so than me."

"It's not that…"

"Then what is it?"

Glancing slyly, his comrade gestured towards something behind Tron. Turning, Tron saw the very noble they had been deriding, standing there.

"Sorry about that, Grandis Mercenary Leader, Tron, was it?" the noble said.

Tron spun around hastily. Nobility was nobility, no matter how foolish they were.

'This could escalate quickly,' he thought. Everyone knew about Robron's boundless pride, separate from his incompetence.

"No, no, I didn't mean what I said, sir. You might not know, but after a fierce battle, we need something to vent about, and…"

"I'm not here to blame you. Your job is just to swing your sword for the pay."

"Right, yes. Thank you for your understanding…"

"And here, I am the commander."

"…Yes, Commander."

Relief washed over Tron as the situation seemed to resolve amicably. With bated breath, he watched the noble who then said, "I have an additional task. If you're interested, follow me."

"We'll decide after hearing the details, after consulting with the team."

"If that's the rule."

"Can my team come along?"

"There's no need for more people to know about this."

"Understood."

What could this task be? Exchanging puzzled looks with his team, Tron followed Robron Welrose.