From a terminal Soldier to Monarch

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Inside the tent was similar to the tent of the executive I had seen so far. There were only three other things.

People, stones and maps.

The blonde curly hair had blue eyes, a humble servant Ludwig and two of his deputies, and among them was a red stone the size of two fists combined.

‘Hot Stones.’

A thermal tool made by magic. A fabulous piece of equipment.

Son of a bitch, you said the wastewall wall was massive.

A friend who studied history, Lynd, reminded me of a piece of knowledge I picked up.

If he inherited the Earl Ludwig because of the waste, he would have been destroyed by debt, not by the invasion of Armstrong.

After looking at the stones and people, I finally looked at the table.

A military map. This item is not even properly supported by small units such as the 7th Infantry.

A map surveyed and calculated by Pathfinder and Mapmaker through this area several times.

"Treasure."

Jaitulas Plain is a place of constant local warfare from spring to fall.

Many would have dug through this area in the middle of winter to make that military map.

As a Pathfinder, that's a treasure of blood and sweat.

There's a bunch of horses next to it that look like they could be used for pins and chess, but they're all on the other side.

When you enter the Operations Conference, you will try to tease them hard on the map and understand their intentions.

And instead of a heated debate on the map right now, taking a break was like saying that the whole operation was set.

I took three steps when I came in, and in the meantime, I saw the whole thing.

Then I stopped and opened my mouth.

"This is Chris, White Captain, 7th Infantry."

When I raise my arms to the ground and bow down, the servant looks at me and nods.

“Rest.”

“Yes.”

Faced with the servant's blue eyes, I naturally remembered the Wheelken.

Ludwig the bastard and this ignorantly strong man, what are you doing here?

“I hear you've returned with a group of wounded. You survived.”

Ah, I really need to give an award to the person who compiled the history book in my past life.

I may be wrong, but at least I wrote the right one about a man named Servant.

The nobleman seemed to have two letters embedded in his face.

You see me in wonder, not worry.

"Well, I understand."

What I did was beyond common sense.

And what I'm about to do is beyond common sense.

I had to convince him to change the operation. It's hardly a white commander, but there are enough gaps.

Opportunity was right in front of me, and I didn't have to drag and miss it.

‘The servant is noble and arrogant. ’

Wasteful, vain and hates war.

You can tell by the warm stone and the neatly decorated tent.

‘Even if I want to go home right now. ’

The servant is obliged to stand on the battlefield and do as he was taught, but not because he likes it.

It's also noble to not tease like this. Standing in the battlefield as a conductor for the lower class is his aristocracy.

Persuading the opposing Pokémon is only possible after they know the opposing Pokémon.

What he wants, what he wants.

You have to at least know it so you can speak up and think of the other person's intentions.

“I was lucky to get here by raiding the enemy supply lines on my way. ”

Once I've added one of my achievements,

“You've defeated the wounded. What's the damage?”

“Sixty soldiers came back alive. Your abilities have caused some damage. Forgiveness.”

Now, you like this, don't you? A well-known commoner raising you up and asking for your forgiveness.

One of my specialties is the speech that makes the opponent feel good.

“I forgive you.”

You look satisfied. I don't know if you don't look closely, but my eyes are more than average.

Above all, I am satisfied with the faces of the two deputies next to me.

You have to get them to look at you first.

That's far enough. As soon as I got here, I knew I had a chance to meet this guy.

“I heard from the enemy's White Captain · · ·. ”

From here on out, it's confidential. I blur the end, and behind-the-scenes eyebrows twitch.

As my gaze turned towards the deputy, he said, smoking a diaper.

“Speak up, you two deputies. ”

"It's really important. I'm sorry."

“I forgive you.”

"Son of a bitch, that sounds fun."

“They say you have a very special soldier at Eidmoon. ”

“Special?”

"I didn't hear the details, but I heard that there are monsters with no blood or tears who've only been trained in combat for 10 years." "

Of course, the white commander of Armstrong never said this. He wouldn't even know the secret.

But it's not a lie.

“Hmmm?”

The servant showed me a gesture as to why he said that.

He's got a bad head.

“What if the elite troops of that arm are running for their hearts? · · ”

“Wait.”

Yeah. Even with a bad head, it's worth noticing.

“The enemy is after me? ”

It could be. If I were you, I'd run a different elite force with superior combat power.

Commanders without vices.

I will cut down all those who cannot defend themselves by force.

I will cut off all the heads of the middlemen so that the order will not work.

After that, attack with an ally in formation. What a good strategy.

How many men? Thirty?

The Sercado Cavalry is the continent's first.

The servant ridiculed me and said.

Sercago and Palmoon both speak the same language and eat the same.

But it's another country.

The biggest difference is that the shape of the land is different.

If Sercado is a flock of shepherds surrounded by a big fence, Armunch is a flock that slaughters mountain goats.

The cavalry is Sercado and infantry.

He's right. Sercado's cavalry overwhelms his arm.

On the contrary, mountain rangers can't compare to palms.

Even in Sercago, there are large backbone mountains, but more than half of the country is mountainous.

Eating and sleeping on the mountain is more than half of the country's population.

So who had the advantage of the gyturist revolution?

Sercado has defeated all of Armstrong's raids to date.

A historian raises the hand of Cercado.

In a large area where mounted troops can charge, the battle is clearly advantageous this way.

Sercado doesn't want to play the role, but his fortress is guarded by the Wolves, so he stops it.

Sercado has the advantage of fighting in the plains. However, in this battle, the eight gates sharpened their swords.

‘If the battle has been a fist fight, it's time to swing a standing sword. ’

They use the curse and when it fails, they take out their sharp knives. It's a natural order.

“You don't have to know the enemy's intentions and just get beat up, do you? ”

“Are you going to teach me? ”

Mistake. Mistake. Maybe it's too urgent.

At least one of me is like a servant. I don't want to drag this damn war into the winter.

“I'm sorry."

“I forgive you.”

Okay, you son of a bitch. Honestly, I had to stand up for Whelken, but I wanted to look out for another brother, and at least you didn't have a choice.

I feel like I'm going to listen to this forever.

How far did he report me?

You must have heard they hit the enemy supply depot.

“I have an idea. I think it's the only way to finish this battle in two days. ”

You want to get home fast.

“Take a listen and teach me. ”

It's a strategy you can listen to and eat. I'm just giving you some advice.

And if you just listen, you won't say no.

The servant needs public knowledge as much as he wants to end the war quickly and return home.

He argues power with his brother on his father's back rice. Will the wealth that you have now remain rich in the struggle for power?

“Tell me. I will teach you. ”

Come on.

I stood by the table. An odd-looking deputy stared at me.

What's wrong with this guy?

You place your hands on the map and raise five mountain-shaped horses.

Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!

You hold them all in line at the door and listen to Sercado's riding stance.

“The short-term supply of the enemy is short-term supply of few goods. ”

Horse horses cut the mountain goat's path as it approached.

“Blocking the supply corridor will make the enemy more anxious. ”

Nothing scares a commander more than an ally who doesn't fill his stomach.

Fraudulent as well as ineffective. Eating is just as important.

“Then we'll dispatch the enemy troops. ”

The goal is not to take over Sercago's lands in a heartbeat.

If I were you, I'd move a small number of elite troops and bash their heads in.

If possible, capture and kill the commander under Earl Van Ludwig and return in the spring.

If you succeed, time is on your side.

I know the future of the door. Until they do.

It was roughly true, but there was no shortage of analogies.

“Then how do you deal with a strike team? ”

The question is not from the servant, but from the deputy next door.

Yes. The servant was a bit of a fool, but I think that deputy was his head.

“Temporarily, we'll join forces with white captains of combat and fight them off. ”

If we fight and die together, the mission is a success.

We're stopping them from getting to us.

"Cutting off the supply lines won't allow you to survive the winter, so just get rid of those troops and we'll be done fighting there." "

“Maybe we can win. ”

The deputy's eyes sparkled and glowed.

“Isn't it meaningless if you don't know the opponent's supply time? ”

Now I can understand.

"When I plundered the enemy's supply wagon, it was only three days' worth of supplies."

“Three days.”

Food is honest. The limits are clear, no matter how fragile it is.

A unit of raiders and white captains that traverse enemy supply lines.

The deputy recounts. Soon, he is troubled by his servant's ears.

“Mmmm.”

The servant nods and hears everything he says and looks at me.

“Get out. ”

Yeah, you don't care anymore.

“Wait.”

On my way out, the servant's voice catches me. When I turned around, he reached out and grabbed my chin.

“What are you wearing on your face? I think it'll be okay to wash up."

Oh, shit, that's creepy. You have to give me a real prize for that historical puppy.

The most deadly disadvantage of the servant is his sexual orientation.

“Servant. ”

If the deputy didn't call me from behind, he was really ready to wipe my face.

“I'll be going, then. ”

I've lived ten years. I see Digo and Canneruck waiting for me outside.

And there was a acronym in his ear.

"Damn it, Chris!"

It was Ralph. He ran up and hugged me.

Bang, bang!

Were we like this? Since then, I've seen Fedel.

“You can't be dead. ”

I saw a familiar face. Soldiers from the same unit.

They also ate meat together and enjoyed victory.

"Well, Commander Ralph, you better call yourself a White Captain now."

"What the fuck? Hey, we've known about friendship for a long time."

It shouldn't have been more than a few days, those years.

"Shit. I've known him for a long time, so I'll call him Ralph from tomorrow."

“Do you want to die?”

What a spectacular sight. He pushes Ralph away and looks at Fedel and says,

He also played a role as mistress in the 7th Infantry. It won't be any different now.

“What brings you here? ”

“He should be back alive. If you were dead, I would have regretted sending you to the ground. ”

Fedel comes up and taps his shoulder.

“It's chaotic.”

Welcome ceremony. Someone wanted this.

By the way, the soldiers glanced at me and said one thing at a time.

“I knew I'd live. ”

“What have you done this time? ”

I passed out without knowing it. Nice to meet you, too.

“Let's go. I'll shoot you today with some supplies." ”

Trot must have stashed some bacon.

At a glance, Digo looks at the wine in his arms.

Somehow my heart was thick.

“Is it a welcome back party? ”

"We had a battle this afternoon, so let's eat and drink quietly."

The seriousness is vast. After looking at the map and looking at your progress, you naturally look at your enemies as well.

Nothing special. The two confrontational hordes roar over food called Jaitulas Plain.

We went to one corner.

Among the previous seven infantry troops, some 50 people were familiar with it.

“Only 50?”

“The rest went first in battle. Rotten bastards.”

Ralph replies, "Some of you may have become deserters in the daytime battle."

“Let's have a drink.”

There wasn't much wine, so it was just a sip, but that was enough.

I'm chewing baked bacon in my mouth, and someone brought me dried fruit.

Everyone looks at me and nods without saying a word.

Are you so happy for me? You bastards.

"Now, give it to me."

You see two soldiers chattering next to you.

"Hey, look at me."

“Betting is sacred. Son of a bitch.”

Bronze comes from each other's hands. It's not a big deal.

Tuck.

Canneruck approaches and puts his hand on his shoulder.

“I put my life on the line. I made money thanks to you. ”

“Me, too."

“Me, too."

Ralph and Fedel nod.

It was roughly half. When these lunatics took the rest of the wounded and drove off, they made a bet with me.

Bleeding.

A smile came out.

This is one of the ways to unwind.

When everyone saw my greeting face, they knew that they really wanted me to come back.

"Captain, I had to bet against it to win. So I did."

A soldier made excuses. I flicked my finger on his forehead.

Exactly.

I heard a crash.

“Ugh.”

“That's enough.”

You don't have to make excuses like that.

I don't want to kill the bastards here if they're really messed up.

But I know that war is not an easy task.

‘The infantry of Armstrong. ’

A white army of desperate allies stopping you? If that were possible, we wouldn't have deployed the troops here in the first place.

‘I can't stop it. ’

With that in mind, I said. And you can't stop it.

I came up with two possibilities.

When and when enemy elite troops come out.

Digo, the axe, Lynd.

I only need four. If there's a problem, you're the one who can get these four out of the unit at random.

‘Cannerucks are impossible. ’

The servant will not listen, and I roll my head. I found someone who can help me do this.

There was one who came to mind.

“You're the weirdest guy I've ever seen. ”

And at that moment, I heard a familiar voice in my ear. I turned my eyes and saw a familiar face.

Earl Ludwig's bastard, the red-haired soldier Whelken.