Game of the Monarch

As Milton and Alfred’s duel became all the more fierce, the others did not dare to intervene.

There was but one man who was not afraid to jump in: Jerome Taker. He would have intervened if he was just given the word. In fact, he was planning to.

But he did not.

‘Amazing…’

That was because he became aware that Milton was about to evolve once more.

Jerome was about to jump in when the opponent’s aura suddenly exploded, but he hesitated when he saw that Milton was withstanding the blows much better than anticipated. Within time, Milton was slowly adapting to the present situation. More and more of the attacks that he had difficulty blocking at first were now being met perfectly.

In this short moment, Milton’s latent potential was being dragged out as he was forced to adapt to his enemy.

‘I’ve been called a genius as well, but that’s put to shame compared to the lord.’

Milton always said that Jerome was the real genius, and he was only a bit bright at best. But Jerome wondered from time to time if his lord was the true brilliant mind.

***

When Jerome first met Milton, Milton’s strength was not that of an Expert but an ordinary knight. When he set off for the frontier, he was a poor noble who had to resort to employing mercenaries because he did not even have the prerequisite number of soldiers. As he experienced real war on the Western Front, his skill and prowess grew day by day until he opened the door known as the Expert grade at last.

Though Milton returned from the battlefield as an Expert, he did not slack off on his training.

When the many knights of this world became an Expert, they felt both a sense of accomplishment and immense satisfaction. Some would think to themselves: I’ve become strong enough. I’ve become successful enough. That satisfaction would occasionally become a poison that brought indolence and idleness. After all, with the grade known as Master being as high as the stars, there were a considerable number of knights who settled for the status quo of Expert.

But Milton did not settle nor become idle.

The result was that Milton had already become a mid-level Expert. Jerome was happy for him on the one hand as the one overseeing his training, but what was bigger was his surprise.

‘He truly is a genius.’

Jerome was now certain.

One day in the future, his lord Milton Forrest would become a Master.

Then he could not interfere at this present spot, for each and every ordeal was precious food for Milton.

‘Let’s keep watch as long as possible.’

Jerome tightly gripped his sword and watched Milton from afar.

***

‘Ugh… How… How is he still standing?’

Alfred’s nervousness reached fever pitch.

After drinking the potion, Alfred had been unilaterally suppressing his opponent with his newfound strength and saw that victory was within his grasp.

But the more they crossed swords, the more his adversary was able to match his movements. The Milton that was being forced back in the beginning was now steadily rivalling him. Something snapped inside Alfred as he observed with bloodshot eyes.

What was this?

What on earth was this?

At this rate, was he not just a training dummy helping to bring out his opponent’s latent potential?

He gave up on winning this battle…

And served up his men’s lives…

And offered up his own life as well.

Despite that, his sword was not able to reach the enemy commander.

Did he have to sit back and accept this illogicality as reality?

Did he truly have to do that?

‘F**k that shit!’

He would never accept this.

“URAAAAAAA!!”

Alfred exploded.

His aura was overflowing from his blade, and all the vessels of his body bulged as if they would burst.

The attack imbued with all of Alfred’s energy came hurtling down towards Milton’s head, at which moment…

‘An opening!’

Not missing a window with his opponent’s large motion, Milton blade flashed in a beeline.

Shuk!

As the deadly trail of light passed, something dropped to the floor with a plop.

“Agh…”

It was Alfred’s right hand.

Before Alfred’s swing could reach him, Milton’s blade had sliced off his wrist first.

“You… YOU BASTAAAARD!!”

Alfred let out a cry of rage, but Milton’s next strike already came and sent his head flying.

Psssssh!

Alfred’s head fell off with a showy fountain of blood. Milton impaled the head onto a spear and raised it to the sky as he shouted.

“It is our victory!”

“Uaaaaaaah!!”

As Milton was met with cheers of victory, he could breathe a sigh of relief at last.

At the same time, several texts appeared inside Milton’s mind.

[You have emerged victorious against a superior strategist-type general using greater stratagem and tactics.]

[Your swordsmanship has advanced one level through real combat.]

[You have a new Special Trait, ‘Strategy’.]

[The Special Trait ‘Bargain’ has disappeared.]

[The existing Special Traits ‘Charisma’ and ‘Awaken’ have merged to form a new Special Trait, ‘Monarch’s Dignity.’]

‘What’s this?’

Milton was overwhelmed by the abrupt appearance of all these messages. He immediately opened his stats panel, and was met with…

[Count Milton Forrest]

Monarch LV.3

Strength – 81 Command – 85

Intelligence – 80 Politics – 61

Loyalty – 100

Special Traits – Dignity, Clout, Strategy

Monarch’s Dignity LV.1: Your presence alone instils faith in allies and strikes fear into enemies. Vassals’ loyalty can be greatly increased through apt reward and punishment.

Clout LV.4: Able to raise public sentiment of oneself through issuing rewards or giving rousing orations.

Strategy LV.2: Excellent ability to discern the overall flow of war.

Milton was astonished after finishing reading his specs.

‘When did everything increase by so much? It almost looks like I’m a Monarch who specializes in warfare.’

Strength, Command, and Intelligence – these three stats all surpassed 80. They had developed continuously as he had constantly been involved in war, in which these stats were used.

Along the same lines, he understood why he no longer possessed the Bargain trait.

Ultimately, the Special Traits were a manifested description of one’s strengths. Although there were abilities that would last a lifetime once acquired, it was only human that most would fade away without use. In recent times, there had been no need nor occasion for Milton to bargain with others. Princess Leila took care of the complicated political affairs while Milton concentrated on warfare.

But more than anything, what really astonished Milton was that two Special Traits had combined to create a new one: Monarch’s Dignity. Judging from the description alone, it was plain that this combination of Charisma and Awakening formed an excellent ability.

He could unite allies and sow fear among enemies by simply being present. Presumably, the amount of loyalty gained for appropriately rewarding or punishing subordinate behavior had also been increased. 

In essence, what this trait signified was that people around Milton were gradually beginning to perceive him as a big fish. He was becoming an awe-inspiring man to his allies, whose personal strength and proficiency in warfare was only growing.

‘I feel like I’m Xiang Yu[1] or something.’

That was an apt likeness if he compared the trajectory of his status to figures in Earth’s history. He was the spitting image of an autocrat who dominated over his allies and used war to force his enemies into submission.

Though that really wasn’t his style…

‘At least it smack-bang fits this time and age.’

Milton unknowingly smiled.

***

Milton’s landslide victory was a phenomenal result. The enemy had been completely routed and their commander slain.

More than anything, the loss of friendly troops was wondrously low. Thanks to Milton’s creation of an overwhelmingly advantageous situation, the losses of the Southern army might as well have been non-existent.

Unlike Milton’s outcome, things were not looking bright for the army of the Strabus Kingdom that were advancing down the Eastern road.

Derek Brans and his 50,000 men were stimulated by the appearance of Siegfried before them, one of the objectives of their expedition. It was only to be expected with the game that they were hunting would show himself.

Only, this adversary was much less of an easy picking than they had thought.

The force of Duke Brans numbered 50,000, compared to Siegfried’s force of 20,000. 

The difference in headcount was more than double. If the Master that was Duke Brans was included, it was safe to say that the difference in strength was closer to triple.

However when the battle started, the side that was floundering about was Duke Bran’s.

First, Siegfried dispersed his army into numerous detachments and ordered them to hide their location. Capitalizing on the Hildess Republic’s strengths by hiding in the mountains or forests, they began harassing their enemy through guerilla warfare while thoroughly ensuring their cells would not be discovered.

When the Strabus troops overly pursued these skirmishers, what awaited them were decimating planned sorties. However, they were too large a concern to simply disregard and march forward.

Eventually, Duke Brans and the 50,000 strong Strabus army were being slowly tied down without so much as a chance to fight the enemy head-on. Siegfried’s army continued their method of surgically attacking the locked-down enemy and retreating. Their tactics were so exquisite and their strikes swift that they began to disorient their victim. 

Moreover, the large size of the Strabus Kingdom army played a part as well. They were splayed over an enormous amount of terrain due to their number of troops; and while this evinced their size to the Hildess Republic, it also meant that there were many more places the Republicans could strike.

“We incurred losses yesterday as well. We suffered 500 casualties as a result of the enemy attacking our rear.”

“A trivial loss. When the knights went out to reinforce the rear at news of the ruckus, those Black Skull bastards came out of nowhere and struck us right at the hip; at the center of our procession.”

“Those damned things?”

“The damage was colossal. Our troop losses already amounted to more than 1,000 men – but in addition, those bastards lit our supplies on fire. We could not properly track them as the fire needed to be extinguished.”

“Those Skull dogs…”

The Strabus commanders were beyond frustrated. The Hildess Republic’s mountain troops were already highly notorious, but there appeared an enemy in this battle who took it one step further.

These soldiers wore a black skull-shaped helmet, and were likewise covered head to toe in black leather armor. The official designation of this unit was unknown, so the Strabus command staff had taken to calling them the Black Skulls.

These Black Skulls seemed to be distinguished even among the Hildess Republic’s elite mountain troops. Though their estimated size only ranged from 100 to 200 men, the damage suffered at the hands of these small special forces was already too great.

They had but a single opportunity to surround them, but they much too easily forced their way out of the surround and escaped. Not only that, but the knight detachment who composed part of the surround formation were crushed – despite that detachment having included as many as ten Experts.

Consequently, the command staff projected that the Black Skull brigade had at least 30 to 50 Experts among their ranks. 

Though neither their number or strength had been exactly discerned and everything was mere projection, one thing was certain: the special unit that were nicknamed the Black Skulls were an unbelievable pain in the neck.

“We must do something about them. The losses suffered from these scoundrels is about to reach 3000.”

“The losses are one matter, but another entirely is that terror is beginning to spread among the men – that being despite our much larger numbers.”

“As always, superior numbers do not decide the outcome of a war. In fact, there is word that Count Forrest on the other frontier overpowered an enemy numbering 30,000 with his Southern army of only 20,000.”

“With all due respect, whose side are you on my fellow man?”

“Side? Let us not deviate from the truth – the truth, I say!”

The commanders began a fiery debate, perhaps because of their mounting stress and pressure.

One deep voice boomed over them.

“Settle down, the lot of you.”

Duke Brans reconsolidated the flustered commanders. He continued with all eyes now on him.

“The enemy is likely avoiding a frontal battle because their strength is that lacking. In that event, we only need to focus on conversely forcing a head-to-head fight.”

“Whatever shall we do, Duke?”

“We will throw them some bait – a bait that those weasels simply cannot decline.”

With that, Duke Brans ordered his command to begin sowing the seeds of his strategy.

1. (T/N: Xiang Yu (232 – 202 BC) was a prominent noble and warlord of the Chu state in China, whose name was known in Korea due to the state having been located across the Yellow Sea.)