Chapter 61: Logistics Are the Lifeline
The imperial army’s frontline commander, General Vargas, was irritated.
Three days had already passed since they had arrived at the Silva Plains.
Despite being outnumbered, the Berstein Kingdom army before him stayed holed up in their fortifications like turtles, showing no sign of coming out.
He had tried provoking them several times with small detachments, but they only responded with arrows and never pursued.
“Cowards!”
Vargas slammed his fist against the table inside his command tent.
He was known throughout the imperial army for his bravery. He favored honorable, straightforward battles and despised tricks.
This stalemate was utterly incompatible with his temperament.
“General, what shall we do? At this rate, only time will pass. Should we wait for the main force to arrive and then launch a full assault?”
His adjutant asked hesitantly.
“…No,”
Vargas growled.
“The main force is already behind schedule. Something may have happened…”
His faint unease became grim reality the next morning.
A frantic messenger from the rear supply unit rushed in, pale with fear.
“R-reporting! Last night, our rear was ambushed by an unidentified unit, and fifty wagons loaded with food and arrows were burned!”
“…What!?”
Vargas’s face drained of color.
Fifty wagons’ worth of food—enough to feed his five thousand vanguard troops for ten days—gone.
But the nightmare did not end there.
One disastrous report after another poured in:
“The second supply unit advancing from the west has been attacked and annihilated!”
“The southern Castor Bridge appears to have been blown up! This will severely delay the main force’s advance!”
“Fallen trees are blocking the roads everywhere! The enemy seems intent on completely severing our supply routes!”
Vargas was stunned.
What was happening?
The enemy’s main force should be in the fortifications right before him.
So who were these ghost-like troops wreaking havoc behind their lines?
Then he finally understood Berstein’s true aim.
They never intended to fight a frontal battle.
While he was focused on the decoy in front of him, they sent a separate strike force to attack their lifeline—logistics.
It was a tactic Vargas had always despised: underhanded, insidious warfare.
“…Damn them… damn them!!”
Vargas trembled with rage.
“You turtle bastards! Come out! Fight me honorably!!”
He burst from his tent and roared toward the kingdom army’s fortifications.
But no one answered his soul-deep howl.
The enemy encampment remained silent.
Meanwhile, further behind the imperial army’s supply line—
Hector, leading Arkwright’s First Division, looked down coldly at the scene below.
Imperial supply troops stood frozen before their burning wagons, their unit wiped out without resistance by Hector’s lightning-fast ambush.
“…Magnificent,”
A young knight beside him breathed in admiration.
“With a single musket volley we neutralized their guards, and in the ensuing confusion the cavalry set the wagons ablaze… Zenon-sama’s strategy works like a precision machine.”
“Yes.”
Hector nodded quietly.
“My blood doesn’t stir. This isn’t a battle—just work. …But this is the correct way to fight. Well the enemy’s strength while losing no men of our own.”
Within him, his pride as a knight clashed fiercely with his rationality as a commander.
But he already understood—Zenon’s methods were the shortest route to victory.
At the same time—
Zenon and Gray’s Second Division was demolishing the last stone bridge on the imperial army’s advance route.
They used small explosive magic devices crafted by the mages for this day.
“That completes the cutoff of their retreat and reinforcement routes.”
Zenon said calmly, watching the dust rise.
“All that remains is to see how General Vargas moves.”
“…What do you think he’ll do?”
Gray asked.
“There are three possibilities.”
Zenon began counting on his fingers.
“One: he challenges our main force head-on. But without supplies, they’ll starve and collapse. The most foolish choice.”
“Two: he orders a full retreat. But we’ve destroyed their retreat paths. A retreating army slogging through mud with no road will be an easy target. If we pursue, we can annihilate them.”
“And the third.”
Zenon’s blue eyes gleamed coldly.
“If they lack supplies, they may decide to forage locally. In other words, they’ll raid nearby villages. …Given this Vargas’s temperament, this is the most likely.”
“W-what!? To involve civilians—!”
“That is war, Gray,”
Zenon said icily.
“And that is exactly what I am aiming for.”
The full scope of his terrifying stratagem was becoming clear.
He hadn’t merely severed the enemy’s supply line—
He was driving them into a corner, deliberately manipulating them into choosing the most brutal, inhumane option.
This ruthless move would soon decisively shape the course of the war.
The imperial army had no idea what awaited them.