Mikhail leans over the map, the candlelight flickering across the rough topography of the siege lines. "Okay," he commands, his voice cutting through the hum of the tent. "Give me the briefing of every single detail. I want numbers, positions, and enemy movements."
Hilowat steps forward, placing a marker on the repaired section of the map. "My Lord, the breach has been sealed off. Our battle mages are currently channeling mana to fuse the stone; it will be fully reinforced by sunrise. The troops are exhausted but morale is high due to your speech. We are technically ready for a counter-attack, but our positioning is defensive."
Mikhail nods slowly, his eyes tracing the red markers indicating the Orc horde. In the game, I had to lead just a group of playable characters. A tank, a healer, a DPS, and assign them according to their roles. But right now... the whole army? He frowns, scanning the room. But speaking of characters... where are they? Aside from Miyako, I haven't seen a single named unit. What the fuck? Did the butterfly effect erase them, or are they hiding?
He straightens up, addressing the room. "Yes, we must counter-attack as soon as possible. Before they can regroup and start their assault again. But our numbers are lacking. By a huge margin. A frontal assault is suicide."
A ragged General of Eldrath steps forward, clutching his helmet. "My Lord... there is a possibility. There are potential allies, but... the situation is dire."
Mikhail raises an eyebrow. "Explain."
The General points to a forested area behind the Orc lines on the map. "When the Orcs started their assault, our frontline got swept under the sheer weight of their numbers. A large contingent got separated from the main force and cut off. We have seen signal fires. There is a high chance that a lot of our soldiers are still alive outside the walls, trapped in the pocket."
Mikhail stares at the map, his internal calculator running the odds. Risk fighting through those numbers for a rescue of a handful of useless Eldrath soldiers? It's like those repetitive side missions—high risk, low reward, just to save some generic NPCs. He sneers internally. I know for sure that Eldrath doesn't have any powerful characters in their regular army. So it's a no-brainer.
Mikhail slams his fist onto the wooden table, startling the generals. "You dare suggest that I send my men to die in enemy territory to rescue just a handful of soldiers? With no guarantee if they're still alive or not? You want me to trade elite Imperial lives for stragglers? That is not strategy, General, that is sentimentality."
Queen Yuehua steps in softly, her voice firm despite the tension. "My Lord, I understand your concerns. But the frontline wasn't just Eldrath soldiers. We had hired extensive help from the Guilds. There were many mercenary team stationed there as well."
Mikhail pauses. "Mercenaries, you say?"
His mind immediately shifts gears. Mercenary teams... In the game, mercenaries were the wild cards. They were the pool from which you could recruit optional party members—high-stat wanderers, unique classes, and hidden gems. It is pure luck, a gacha pull in the middle of a war. But there is a chance... a high chance that I will get some powerful characters out there. If he saves them, their loyalty will be to him, not Eldrath. This is getting interesting.
Mikhail's expression softens into a predatory calm. He nods slowly. "If that's the case... seasoned mercenaries might be the edge we need to break the siege from the outside. It might be worth the risk." He stands up straight, adjusting his coat. "I will assign a small team. Elite Imperial Cavalry, led by myself. We will rescue them and fight our way back to the walls."
Hilowat steps forward, alarmed. "Your Majesty! You cannot—"
"I can and I will," Mikhail cuts him off. "While I'm gone, Hilowat, I want you to lead the wall. Fight with everything you've got. Hold the line until I return with our reinforcements. Is that understood?"
The room falls silent, the weight of the Prince's reckless bravery—or calculated greed—hanging in the air. Then, in unison, they bow.
"Yes, My Lord."