"Don't fight head-on," Vargas lectured him. "Envelop and overrun. Frontal assaults never work."
Konrad wanted to believe him, but he won the tournament by a risky frontal assault.
And worse—there was nowhere to go in this narrow pass anyway.
"How do I envelop the lancers if there's no way around them?" he asked, scratching his head.
The battlefield transformed since the captain took over. Their lines shortened, the garrison's formation deepened and narrowed. They no longer resembled a turtle, either.
There was no point when they only had to focus on what was in front of them.
This also meant the battle became static and predictable.
"If anything, we could've pushed the flanks while we had more space, but now?"
"You don't need to envelop them," the captain noted. A bit self-contradictory. "You can have them walk into your envelopment by themselves. Work smarter, not harder, kid."
It did sound smart—but how?
The contrast between schooling him like a child and currying favours as a duke was huge. And Vargas did all that without actually explaining anything.
"The men are all tired, overwhelmed," the captain said. "They'll be in a full, disorganised retreat."
"What?!" Konrad couldn't hide his shock.
Everything seemed fine to him despite the mistakes he'd made earlier.
He thought the captain fixed them all, so—
"This is what we'll have the nomads believe," the old schemer said, and Konrad let out a long, shaky breath. Even he bought it for a second. "Then they'll give chase and walk into our trap."
That made a lot more sense.
They shortened the lines because of the barracks, but once they were past it, the road widened again. The lancers would have to thin their formation while also keeping an eye on their flanks.
And then—
"My Aset Defenders will sally out to surround them, and they'll have nowhere to pull back."
Facing spears at the front and behind them, with archers threatening their sides.
They'd either surrender or jump into that deep chasm.
"Will they buy it, though?" Konrad asked, eager but still unconvinced.
If things were that easy, he could've defeated them as he'd done with the horse archers.
Oh. Right.
Things might've been that easy after all.
"They could retreat before it's too late or refuse to walk into the trap." Vargas shrugged. "But even if they're smart, we lose nothing. Only learn something new about our enemies."
It sounded simple, but it never was.
"We're short on time," Konrad noted. "But I guess, so is their commander."
He had to bring the captain up to scratch.
He almost forgot Vargas had no mind-reading powers, nor was he part of his telepathic circle.
They've been away for a while now.
But in a few minutes, he recapped everything from the dragon's reports to the battle so far.
"Hmm. See, you already used this trick without knowing." The captain slammed his shoulder.
Konrad had to make do with that praise because everything else he did seemed like a mistake.
"We'll have to be more aggressive, then," Vargas concluded in the end. "Five thousand's a lot, but it's only a small part of their army. I'd rather deal with them now than after the rest arrived."
"How? We've only talked about encircling five hundred lancers so far."
"You say their telepaths are elsewhere, and you took care of all their messengers," the captain said. "That was smart, and it means we can hit them over and over before they reorganise."
"That is, if our first encirclement even works," Konrad noted.
And it did not.
Even with the commander far back and their runners taken care of, they were way too cautious.
It made sense. Konrad wouldn't have fallen for the same trick twice, either.
At least that's what he was telling himself.
The lancers pushed his garrison past the barracks, but stopped there as if taking a breather.
"What now?" he asked, frustrated by how easy it was to foil even the most excellent plans.
"You said you flanked them before. How did you do that?" Vargas asked, scratching his chin.
"I had men hidden further down the road," Konrad explained. "But only a few, and they faced fifty horsemen. They couldn't hold a candle to a formation this large, and—"
"Are they still there?" the captain interrupted him.
That he didn't know.
He ordered Bor to have them pull back if they were in danger, but did they?
There was no need to ask; the tribesman was already reporting.
"We have fifteen men still behind the enemy lines. And twenty archers up on those peaks."
Nowhere near enough in Konrad's opinion, but Vargas was grinning.
"That'll do. They'll motivate the nomads to walk deeper into our trap," he claimed before turning to him. "Or rather, your annoying trickster magic will do the rest."
It took him a second, but he figured it out before he had to ask.
"You want me to clone them with an illusion?" A smart move, but a risky one. "They'll still be able to do some damage since they're actually there, but if the lancers find out—"
He'd lose fifteen men in no time.
And if the plan worked, he'd capture five hundred instead.
That was the best part. Not even fanatics would have been stupid enough to fight to the last man if they fell for his trick. He didn't have to massacre every nomad if they surrendered.
But would a simple illusion be enough?
He'd rather five hundred get away than lose fifteen of his own.
'Sweetheart, you act like illusions were still the only thing you could do,' Lily's voice rang in his head. 'You thought of scorching the battlefield a while ago. Why not keep that as a Plan B?'
'I could do it, too,' Maple chimed in as well. 'Please, let me do it, bossman.'
Fair. Sleep deprivation might've dumbed him down, but the truth was, he alone could've won this battle if he had to. Or either of his haremettes nearby.
It would have been nasty, but it was an option as long as Maou Midori wasn't around.
At the very least, he could've taken all the risks he wanted.
"Fine, let's do this," he finally said, turning to Bor. "Order our ambushers to prepare."
The tribesman was off before he could change his mind, everyone seeming eager to fight.
"Don't overdo it, though," Vargas grunted, poking at his side. "As I said, the Aset Defenders must do the heavy lifting, or Lord Schwertburg might call them back."
"I hate this kingdom's politics." Konrad sighed. "But fine, let's not disappoint that gloryhound."
All he cared about was keeping his men alive and Kasserlane safe at their backs.
Who took credit for it was not important as long as he was in control of the situation.
After all, that was his strongest wish when he reincarnated into this world. And with a little help, he might've been able to achieve it against all odds. Finally.
What else could he even wish for?
'Expanding your harem would be nice,' Lily whispered. 'Or, you k-meow, at least play with us more often. You can't even imagine how boring it is to sit in the back with an angel.'
Konrad tried, and his focus and determination went right out the window again.
That control over his own life was still far beyond his reach.