“That idiot’s completely fallen into the trap, hasn’t he?”

“What do you mean!?”

Road watched the battlefield through the monitor.

His genius strategist’s eyes grasped everything in an instant.

“This formation… He’s probably the commander. Name’s… Blue Tasmania… Ah, the Tasmania Count family.”

“Yes, he’s competent. Competent enough not to disgrace the Tasmania name.”

Then another examiner chimed in.

He seemed to know Blue and claimed the boy had excelled in strategy courses.

“Oh? They’re a lineage that produces fine commanders, aren’t they? The eldest son, eh? That should be reassuring.”

“Yeah, he’s probably competent. Full of holes straight out of the manual… A commander who’s never seen real combat.”

“C-Comparing him to you, Lord Road, is a bit unfair. There’s probably no one in the world who could stand against you on the battlefield…”

“It’s the difference between hell and mediocrity. Anyway, back to this formation. It’s positioned to have the maximum impact on the battlefield. If you think about the purpose of this exam, you’ll get the intent. In other words…”

“Yes! One down!”

“Congratulations, Lord Blue!”

“Haha, this is what they mean by a rabble. The enemy has no strategy at all! Looks like they don’t have anyone stepping up as commander over there!”

The battle had begun, but while Blue’s side moved cohesively as a team, their opponents were haphazard—one machine charging alone, others in scattered groups.

In this battlefield, the only information available was allies’ positions and communications.

Enemy details remained unknown until visual confirmation.

However, once spotted, signals appeared on the map for the duration of visual contact.

Blue roamed the field with his team of about five kin.

He swooped in on battles where other teams were engaged, snatching the kills.

“Hahaha! That’s three now!”

As Blue had predicted, the enemy teams had wasted their strategy meeting time, leaving machines to act independently.

“Now I’m a Holy Knight!!!”

Blue couldn’t stop grinning.

Becoming a Holy Knight guaranteed honor and status.

For someone from a count’s family like him, it was the bare minimum to maintain face.

His parents had ordered him to become one no matter what.

To achieve that dream, he’d use any dirty trick.

Victory was all that mattered—win, and everything was justified.

“Alright, next!”

“Blue’s strategy is nothing short of brilliant.”

“At this rate, he’ll be the Holy Knight of this battlefield. Sword needs to at least fight back…”

“Th-This is bad, isn’t it? Lord Road, even for Sword, if he doesn’t fight…”

The examiners praised Blue effusively.

Seeing this, Star turned anxiously to Road for his opinion.

Road sat in his chair, staring at the monitor, tapping his temple with a finger—that was his habit when piecing things together.

But even with his devilish intellect, it didn’t take long to read the battlefield.

“…Heh. No, not really. Wonder if his luck is good or bad.”

Road surveyed the battlefield of B Team and their opponents, A Team.

Having foreseen the future with his foresight, he understood what was coming and laughed.

“Well, he’ll manage somehow. He’s the knight I acknowledged, after all. He’ll smash through half-baked strategies with that unreasonable sword of his.”

(Just like he smashed through me once.)

“But in this situation…”

“Nah, battlefields shift. Toward A Team’s victory. And Blue will learn that a makeshift strategy is better off not existing at all.”

“Wh-What!? There are too many enemies! What’s going on!?”

“Blue! They’re coming from that side too!”

“What!?”

Enemies poured into Blue’s battlefield one after another.

Their numbers swelled: 10, 20… eventually over 30.

“Why… What’s happening…”

He’d efficiently dashed across the field, fighting defensively to prolong engagements in each spot.

That way, Blue could arrive and steal the kills from the side.

That was his strategy—for creating a numerical superiority through coordination.

In battle, numbers rule—that was the oldest truth of the battlefield.

That’s why he’d acted as a mobile reserve, racing across the field.

Why?

“Why are there so many enemies!? What’s happening!?”

Surrounded on all sides, Blue’s reason was simple.

“D-Does this mean Lord Road foresaw this outcome?”

“Yeah, A Team has no commander—just a mob charging at whatever catches their eye. But the map is shared, so everyone knows who’s fighting where.”

“That’s… just like a real battlefield. Not just simulator stuff.”

“Exactly. But Blue prioritized his own glory, dragging out fights across the field. He zipped from top to bottom. In the end, enemies gathered from all sides toward his position—like kids chasing a ball.”

Blue had prolonged fights and shifted battlefields repeatedly.

As a result, A Team—sensing something off—converged entirely on Blue’s location.

Just like children rushing toward a rolling ball.

No strategy—just everyone running after it.

Like hyenas swarming bait, the warriors flocked to their target.

Here, that was Blue’s battlefield.

Before true strategy, idiocy crumbles.

Yet it also embodies the power of numbers in battle…

“D-Damn it! Everyone, regroup! Point D! Everyone!”

In a panic, Blue ordered all of B Team to converge.

B Team members rushed to the battlefield one by one.

But battles turn on numbers—and with no tech gap between A and B Teams in KOG, the side with more won, obviously.

Blue’s orders were wrong.

He should’ve retreated first to gather numbers.

Then they’d have had the advantage—but he’d called them in piecemeal.

Resulting in repeated outnumbered fights.

B Team fell one by one to the overwhelming force of over 30.

Even as numbers gathered, the sheer disparity crushed them; reinforcements fell too.

Watching, Blue screamed.

“N-No way! I didn’t make a mistake! I didn’t!!”

“Blue! Give us orders!”

“A-At this rate, we’re done for!! Blue! Uwaaaah!!”

“It’s your fault! You can’t follow my orders! My strategy was perfect!! I’m not to blame!”

Surrounded by dozens, Blue realized he was alone—B Team nearly wiped out, few left.

“I’m a genius… I should be a genius… Why…”

His cries echoed vainly as a single flash brought him down.

Listening to the comms, Road murmured.

“There’s no such thing as a perfect strategy, Blue. Just ones with high or low odds of success. Our job is to raise those odds. Good thing it was a sim—if this were real, you’d be dead, and the Earthguard Empire defeated.”

“So… it’s settled? A Team wins?”

“I thought Blue’s strategy wasn’t bad, but he got too greedy for points midway. Even on a real field, that wouldn’t make a commander.”

“Impressive as always, Lord Road. But this means…”

Colonel Star marveled at Road’s prediction.

Yet his voice lacked conviction—A Team’s victory seemed certain.

Most examiners agreed, calculating which A Teamer would be Holy Knight.

Even Colonel Star and all observers were convinced: A Team had won.

All but one.

“Alright, your turn, my knight.”

Road Earthguard grinned, eyes glued enjoyably to the monitor.

“Hm? Just gather up? At Point D? That’s not the plan… It’s way too far.”