Chapter 26

Thud.

Dale advanced a knight-shaped chess piece across the wooden table. Seeing the move, Dale’s self-appointed opponent, the father known as the ‘Duke of Saxony’, moved his own piece.

Although the shapes of some pieces, such as cavalry or infantry, resemble those of chess pieces, it is by no means a chess game.

A war game unfolds with models of each troop type and unit, governed by rules stricter than those of actual warfare.

After exchanging strategic maneuvers dozens of times,

“I have won.”

Dale’s pieces now surrounded the forces of his father, the Duke of Saxony, on the tabletop. And the final battle had just concluded.

“With this, you can keep your promise, right?”

“……”

Duke Saxony, his father, closed his lips tightly.

“Well, this is something…”

Sir Helmut, who had been watching the two players’ game nearby, gasped in surprise.

He couldn’t believe it.

‘Allow me to personally command this battle alongside the Saxon knights.’

Immediately after Baron Pucker, backed by the power of the Holy Sword Knights, declared a territorial war against Baron Greenbelt, a minor lord under the Saxon House.

Even the Duke of Saxony couldn’t easily nod in agreement to Dale’s request.

This was not merely a dispute between mere barons. Dale was still too young to handle this.

That’s why Sir Helmut proposed this game to Dale, hoping to make him realize the ‘complexity of actual combat’.

Since the goal was to simulate real combat, the sheer complexity of the rules alone was beyond description.

──And as Lord Helmut had anticipated, it didn’t take long to persuade Dale.

“Alright, I’ve memorized it all.”

Dale had just finished reading the Rule Book, which was as thick as several encyclopedias, in one sitting.

“Let’s try it now.”

This is the result.

Surveying the battlefield on the wooden table as if it were the palm of his hand, he recites the ‘reason and rulebook’ for each move without missing a single word. Furthermore, he justifies every action he takes in commanding his forces, achieving a 2-1 record against his father, the Duke of Saxony.

Although the match was thoroughly designed to favor the novice—granting Dale numerical superiority and geographical advantage, while the Duke of Saxony deliberately made poor moves—the value of Dale’s victory against the foremost prince of the North could not be diminished in the slightest.

“How long have you known about this game?”

After the game ended, those were the first words from Duke Saxony, his father.

As if he had seen through Dale’s cunning from the very beginning.

“Several years ago, I discovered the ‘rule book’ for this game in the library and began learning it whenever I had the chance.”

At that question, Dale finally smiled like a child. As if his cunning had been seen through.

──It was a lie.

But if he didn’t at least try to cover it up like this, there was no need to say how Dale would appear.

“……”

The Duke of Saxony nodded silently.

“A promise is a promise.”

He nodded and continued.

“In my name, I hereby entrust you with command of the Saxon knights in the coming battle.”

“Your Highness, the Duke!”

“Yes, Father.”

Leaving the flustered Baron Helmut behind, Dale bowed his head in silence.

“The knights of the Order of St. Magdalena to be dispatched are estimated to number between three hundred and five hundred at most.”

Led by Lord Helmut, his knights and staff officers traced the battlefield’s contours on the wooden table.

“Considering the size of the lance each knight commands, the total force would amount to just under two thousand men.”

Lance, a knight and his squire, along with several foot soldiers—a small unit.

The Duke of Saxony nodded silently at his vassal’s report.

“We too shall muster five hundred knights.”

A collective gasp echoed from all corners at that number.

Summoning knights under one’s command was not as easy as it seemed. Moreover, the Duchy of Saxony was vast and perpetually exposed to the darkness of the Demon King’s domain. The extermination of monsters flooding the lands was also the knights’ duty, and each knight had his own knightly command to govern and care for.

Unless one is determined to wage an all-out war, five hundred knights is a number even the empire’s grand dukes cannot lightly dismiss.

But as with the Duke of Saxony…

‘That burden would be no different for a holy knight.’

Both sides were backed into a corner with no room to retreat.

“With the prestige of the House of Saxony at stake, defeat is absolutely unacceptable.”

The Black Count spoke.

“However great my expectations for you may be…”

With a gravity exceeding his usual demeanor.

“A single act of recklessness born of self-ignorance could turn all your talent into nothing.”

Dale nodded silently.

“One last question.”

“Speak, Father.”

“Can you truly bear this fight alone?”

Depending on the outcome, it could bring down the entire tower you’ve built up until now.

“Please act with caution, Dale.”

As if to say, do not feel ashamed to retreat here.

“Trust me, Father.”

But even the Black Duke’s intimidating warning changed nothing.

“The fact that I am your son.”

Even before the campaign began, the image of certain victory was etched more clearly in Dale’s mind than anything else.

Some time later. The great castle of the Grand Master of Brandenburg, Malbork.

“Rumor has it the young eldest son of House Saxe will personally lead the Black Knight’s knights.”

“There’s no need to worry, Father!”

At his father, the Count of Brandenburg’s words, the eldest son of the count’s house, ‘Philip the Lustful’, raised his voice heartily.

“He’s nothing but a ten-year-old brat! Please allow me to lead your knights and break the arrogant little upstart of the Saxon House!”

“…Did you call him a mere ten-year-old blood clot?”

But at Philip’s confident voice, the count’s expression froze coldly.

“A snobby little brat from the Saxon family?”

“Th-that is…”

“The young eldest son of the Saxon family.”

The Brandenburg Count shot back coldly at Philip, who stammered in confusion.

“He’s a monster that a dullard like you couldn’t hope to catch up to, not even in a hundred years.”

The Duke’s prodigy, the empire’s foremost genius.

He recalled those tiresome tales of valor, endlessly repeated by the empire’s sycophants.

But above all else… that day, he recalled Dale’s gaze upon him amid that unforgettable humiliation.

“You’re less than a ten-year-old blood clot, you worthless piece of trash.”

“……”

And yet, this useless, incompetent blood relative standing before him!

A swordsman of such hopelessly mediocre talent that even the empire’s finest knights had to cling to him all day just to barely manage what others did routinely.

And yet, this good-for-nothing, lazy, womanizing fool overestimates his own abilities.

‘I should have secured that girl from the Orhart family, the blood relative of the Divine Sword, long ago…….’

In the count’s gaze toward my son, not a trace of paternal affection could be found. It was the expression one might have when looking upon utterly irredeemable refuse.

“In the coming battle, I will place the command of our knights in your hands.”

“Father…!”

Despite this unexpected declaration, Philip swallowed hard, overwhelmed.

“──But you need do nothing.”

That was until he heard the cold addition that followed.

“No, just don’t try to do anything.”

As if Philip had nothing to show.

“Wh-what does that mean…?”

The battle will be conducted under the command of Lieutenant Milbas, and your role there is merely to make an appearance.

Simply as the figurehead of the House of Brandenburg.

She would have preferred to lead the knights into battle herself and command the fight, but a proud war hero of the empire could not exert full strength against a mere ten-year-old child.

Even if victory were achieved, it would only elevate Dale’s reputation and, worse, make the entire Empire a laughingstock.

Therefore, this battle absolutely required the framing of a duel between the two eldest sons of the duke’s house and the count’s house.

Even if he’s a worthless brat who can’t hold a candle to Saxony’s Dale, not even a shred of hope can be pinned on him.

‘Was this calculated from the start?’

The count clicked his tongue, dismissing the current situation as ‘the Saxon duke’s scheme’.

Unaware of whose scheme he himself had truly fallen into.

As the summoning of Saxony’s knights began and the day of departure drew near.

Dawn, the duke and duchess’s bedroom.

After weeping all night, his wife Elena could finally lay down to sleep.

The Duke of Saxony, too, only sat down to rest on the edge of the bed after spending the entire night persuading her.

This world is no different. What mother could accept sending her own child into battle without feeling anything?

“There’s no need to worry so much.”

Nevertheless.

“…That child possesses far more than we could ever imagine.”

The Duke of Saxony murmured softly toward Elena, who was already asleep.

“When Dale grows up someday, the world he’ll see will be beyond even my imagination.”

Gently brushing her hair aside, his voice sounded as if he were admonishing himself.

“Our child will one day become the master of this world.”

Around the time Philip, the eldest son of the House of Brandenburg, began his northern advance leading the Order of Saint Magdalene.

Dale of Saxony also set out with the knights of the ducal house, matching their pace.

At the northernmost edge, the Barony of Greenbelt.

The five hundred knights under Dale’s command, along with their retinues and the duke’s supply train, reached the domain.

Shortly thereafter, the knights led by Philip also arrived safely at the neighboring Barony of Pucker.

Baroncy of Greenbelt.

“We humbly greet Prince Dale of Saxony!”

The weight of Dale’s name within the North was something scarcely imaginable.

However, at the northernmost edge where the Duke of Saxony’s influence waned, the Baron of Greenbelt’s true feelings were admittedly rather complicated.

‘Surely they wouldn’t send a mere ten-year-old brat into such a crucial battle!’

No matter how much they praise him as the Duke’s prodigy, he’s still just a naive child, isn’t he?

“Baron Greenbelt.”

Young Dale wore a black surcoat over his custom-made armor. Behind him stood the Saxon Duke’s pride, the ‘Black Cavalry’.

“First, we have prepared a modest banquet at the castle for the young master…”

And just as most nobles would do, it was the moment Baron Greenbelt was about to show ‘courtesy’ to his superior.

“We don’t have much time.”

Dale shook his head softly.

“First, I wish to inspect the condition of the soldiers His Excellency commands within the domain.”

After pausing, Dale continued.

“Among those you command, who is the strongest?”

Swoosh.

Drawing the knight’s sword (arming sword) slung diagonally at his waist.