Chapter 1411: Prologue: The Worst Ending (Final)

As for the campaigns that Fritz had never even heard of, there were quite a few which filled only one archive box.

Some even had the location column boldly filled with [Western Colonies (specific location unknown)].

Fritz’s gaze swept across the vast archive boxes occupying three whole walls, and he connected this to the effort and labor required in gathering and studying these pieces of intelligence, causing sweat to unconsciously form on his forehead and back.

Over there, Jansen Cornelius was still speaking passionately, regretfully saying:

“…It’s a pity that due to the proximity in time and the vast distance, there are still too many blanks in our understanding of the course of the River Valley Village battle.

“Thus, the research department had no choice but to add some reasonable speculations and inferences to ensure the normal progression of the reenactment.

“Nevertheless, this is already the closest sand table simulation to the actual battle conditions that you can find in Guidao City.”

Fritz instinctively nodded, still in shock, with the sounds of the outside world going in one ear and out the other.

Cornelius noticed someone was not paying attention, immediately showing displeasure, as he tapped on the edge of the table and straightened his face: “Major?”

“Oh… sorry.” Fritz snapped back to his senses, admiringly looking at the archive boxes on the wall, and asked, “Are these the intelligence materials you collected about the Empire? How can there be so many?”

“What are you thinking? How could there be only this little?”

Cornelius frowned and haughtily answered:

“The Empire’s archive materials are on the first floor.”

After a pause, he added another sentence:

“The entire first floor.”

A buzzing noise echoed in Fritz’s skull.

“But those things, you don’t need to look at them for now.” Cornelius reassured his newly acknowledged student, tapping on the archive box in front of him: “The enemy you’re going to deal with next is Winters Montaigne.”

Fritz nodded repeatedly, his back clothes already soaked with sweat.

Cornelius thought for a moment and asked, “Do you think that when I say Winters Montaigne is the ‘most outstanding teaching result of the past twelve years at the Army Officer School’ I am exaggerating? Are you feeling annoyed hearing such praise for a junior?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Fritz had absolutely no intention to argue now, nodding like a pecking chick: “If you say he is, then he must be.”

Cornelius was very dissatisfied with the student’s answer, dropping his smile, he sternly admonished: “War is about matters of life and death! There is nothing more significant than it! Do you think I would joke about such matters? Or do you lack fundamental understanding of war itself?”

Fritz, being reprimanded, instinctively stood at attention, straightening up.

“Since you are harboring disdain, it’s time for you to learn about the number one enemy of the Southern Army.” Cornelius held down the archive box: “No need to look at materials now, first look at the sand table.”

He pointed at the sand table: “Look carefully, the reenactment before you stays at the moment when the River Valley Village battle is being decided.

“It is also the moment when the fate of the Newly Reclaimed Land, Paratu, even The Federated Provinces, Vineta—the whole Alliance was rewritten.

“If the rebels of the Newly Reclaimed Land lost this battle, we would not be this close to the worst outcome.

“If the government army of Kingsfort won this battle, we could expect the best outcome to happen.

“Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, our allies lost, changing the destiny henceforth.”

Fritz’s “soul” felt as if it had been doused in icy water; when he looked at the sand table again, he no longer possessed that previous detached mindset.

“Look at the sand table, tell me.” Cornelius pointed to the sand table, asking: “Tell me, which side are the rebels, which side is our ally? And which force is Winters Montaigne’s unit?”

Fritz lowered his head to carefully observe—the battle lines were interlocked, with the red and blue sides fully entangled. At first glance, they seemed evenly matched, but upon closer look, you could find that although the blue forces were stubbornly resisting, their strength was waning, being segmented and surrounded for annihilation.

The red side’s victory was already unstoppable, the only variable being a few small blue flags inserted in the southwest direction of the battlefield.

Although those small flags were some distance from the main battlefield, if they could arrive in time, they might alter the course of the battle decisively.

However, those small blue flags represented infantry blocks. They were surrounded by red triangular flags symbolizing cavalry.

Obviously, the red cavalry were doing everything they could to prevent the blue reinforcements from arriving at the battlefield.

Fritz scrutinized the sand table again, confirmed his viewpoint, and raised his head, confidently answering: “Red is the government army, blue is the rebels!”

He analyzed: “They say the River Valley Village battle was ‘when the rebel commander lost the battle at four o’clock, but Winters Montaigne won the battle at six o’clock.’

“So I speculate that the southwest infantry belong to Winters Montaigne’s force, he broke through the government cavalry’s defense line, entered the battlefield as fresh troops, crushed the government line, and eventually reversed the outcome.”

“Regarding the government army and rebels, you answered correctly. But about Winters, you answered wrong, completely wrong!” Cornelius coldly knocked over the blue flags in the southwest direction: “This isn’t Winters Montaigne’s force, they are not even reinforcements, but fleeing defeated soldiers.”

Fritz was stunned for a moment, looking down at the sand table again, with the new information, he only felt the blue army’s situation became even worse.

“Now tell me.” Cornelius’s voice echoed in Fritz’s ear. “That force, where does Winters Montaigne’s unit come from?”