Chapter 103: There Are Always Mistakes

The Red Army’s ground forces pressed forward along the entire front, spread out almost in a single line, sweeping across the map from one end to the other. Theoretically, with this method of advance, it was nearly impossible for the Blue Army to remain hidden. Although their numbers had dwindled, over a hundred thousand troops remained; whether by teleportation or tunneling, they could not escape the enemy's thorough search.

If they could not hide, there was no point in trying. Since the enemy was sweeping across in a line, the most pragmatic tactic was to pierce the line at a single point, concentrating superior forces like a sharp dagger to strike at the enemy’s weakest link. Of course, this was merely the broad strategic concept; the commanders of both armies racked their brains over the tactical details.

Aerial combat continued unabated. The Dragon-Hawk units could not eliminate one another quickly, meaning they could still scout the Blue Army’s positions in certain sectors. They took off and landed repeatedly; in a real war, their actions would be tragic and heroic—scouts sacrificing their lives for victory. They would be true soldiers, fearless and devoted to the cause.

However, since this was not a real war, the scene was farcical. A scream echoed through the air: "Arghhhhh... I’m dead!"

Then, the Dragon-Hawk slowly descended into the Blue Army camp: "Ah! What a miserable death I’ve suffered!"

The Blue Army troops wore dark expressions, and those nearby chided him for being too loud. The Dragon-Hawk knight simply smiled in response: "Can’t I scream while I'm dying?"

The Blue Army was speechless, but their position had effectively been exposed. When the aerial skirmishes first began, both sides fought honestly, but after a short while, the Red Army hit upon a brilliant idea. It started when a Dragon-Hawk, scouting the Blue Army’s ground positions at low altitude, was shot by a Pegasus knight just as it was about to fire a signal arrow.

Once "killed," a knight could not take any further action, meaning the signal arrow could not be fired. This particular Dragon-Hawk knight, however, had a flash of wit; he let out a blood-curdling scream and descended directly into the Blue Army camp.

When others saw this, they followed suit. If they saw ground troops before they "died," they would land nearby while screaming. If they didn't see anyone, they would simply land silently.

Was it mandatory to fall out of the sky when "killed" in the air? Could they not land in the Blue Army’s camp? The Blue Army was so well-hidden on the ground that sometimes one only realized it was an enemy camp upon landing; it was impossible to tell from the air! Could one not scream before dying? This became a subject of great controversy.

The Blue Army’s commander, Richard, immediately protested and contacted the third-party Directorate to report the situation. Even now, the Blue Army’s numbers were slightly lower than the Red Army’s; how could they be subjected to such games? The Red Army commander, Orson, naturally refused to concede. He stated that he had never ordered his officers to scream deliberately to expose enemy positions, a point the third-party observers stationed at Red Army headquarters could verify. At the same time, he noted that screaming before death was a perfectly natural occurrence.

The two commanders began to bicker. This bickering was not without significance; it could influence the Directorate’s judgment. Whoever possessed the superior eloquence, the most commanding presence, and the most logical arguments would naturally be more convincing.

Yet, the current state of the war made it impossible for the Directorate to halt the proceedings. To implement a rule like "no screaming before death," they would have to call for a ceasefire, convey the new rules to both sides, and then restart the battle. But the Dragon-Hawk units were spread across the entire map, and many lacked parrots for communication, relying on signal arrows and screams to transmit information. Relying on Arch-Mages to teleport and deliver notifications one by one would be exhausting.

Since the war could not be paused, the current reality had to be accepted. The "death screams" were effective, and for the Blue Army, this was a sudden and disruptive development. The battlefield changed in the blink of an eye; even the most brilliant commander with the most flawless plans could not avoid the occasional surprise.

Unable to change the situation, they had to accept it. Complaining was pointless, so as the Blue Army commander, Richard immediately began to adjust his strategy. The grand strategy was set, so changes were confined to the details. The Blue Army regimental commanders, who had previously been confident of victory, now wore grave expressions.

The discovered Blue Army legions no longer had any need to hide and began to strike back—some charging to open a path, others feinting to lure the enemy. With coordinated maneuvers, the two armies advanced, retreated, flanked, and enveloped, while the commanders issued orders over their sand tables as if playing a massive game of chess from afar.

Once large-scale mobilization began, the busiest people in the entire exercise were not the ordinary soldiers—who mostly just ran around, often confused—nor the commanders, who were merely "playing chess" from the rear. The busiest were the communication mages and the parrots. Since this was a military exercise, the soldiers lacked genuine tension, and the officers tried to rack up merits while avoiding real combat, resulting in a constant barrage of verbal sparring. Only the communication department treated this like a real war, or even harder, as they had to transmit the insults exchanged between the two sides.

The Directorate, meanwhile, acted as both observers and agitators. To ensure the balance of forces, they invented a series of conditions out of thin air.

"Per Directorate orders, a landslide has occurred here. Please reduce your headcount by 20," a yellow-ribboned parrot flew back and forth, busy as could be.

"Per Directorate orders, an eighth-rank magical beast has suddenly appeared here. Please reduce your headcount by 16."

"Per Directorate orders, the air ahead is suddenly filled with chili powder. Your eyes are stinging. Please remain in place and wait for further instructions from the Directorate before proceeding."

The soldiers: "..."

Both armies were helpless. Sudden battlefield developments were possible, and in a military exercise, the Directorate’s word was law—even the commanders had to comply. The only silver lining was that they could choose which soldiers to "remove," usually opting for those who were unpopular, weak, or unattractive. However, they also had to ensure the recruits survived; after all, the point of the exercise was training, and there was no sense in training veterans instead of the new recruits.

But the battlefield was fickle, and occasionally the Directorate would make a mistake and "remove" too many people. How to fix it? There were plenty of ways.

For instance, there were several "corpses" leaning against tree trunks, roasting meat and watching the Red and Blue armies run around, quite content that they no longer had to "fight."

Suddenly, a yellow-ribboned parrot flew over: "Per Directorate orders, a Necromancer has passed through here! The Necromancer has cast a Skeleton Reanimation spell. You have all been turned into zombies."

The "zombies": "..."

"The Necromancer has departed and left no further orders. Please act according to your zombie traits: put on zombie signs and wander around, biting anyone you see." After delivering the order, the parrot flew off.

The few soldiers eating the roast meat blinked, looked around, and noticed that both Red and Blue troops were quite far away. They decided not to worry about it, put on their signs, and finished their meal first.

Meanwhile, Kevin was still moving cautiously through the jungle. The air was filled with shouts, curses, and screams. With his current abilities, running into a regular regiment would be suicide. Setting up a catapult would be too conspicuous, and doing it in broad daylight would be equally fatal. His only hope was to pick off a stray opportunity.

With his crows and parrots scouting the area, Kevin managed to avoid several Blue Army legions. He had packed his spatial ring with a pile of stones; whenever he needed to hide, he would crouch down, dump the stones out, and bury himself. At a glance, he looked like a small pile of rocks, and the gaps provided enough air to breathe.

If he encountered a vigilant master, this trick would be useless, but ordinary soldiers in a hurry rarely noticed. Since Kevin was alone, hiding was relatively easy.

After trekking through the jungle for a while, he reached a clearing where Red and Blue legions were clashing. Both sides had formed shield walls, with archers firing in volleys from the rear. Arrows flew back and forth; there was almost no place to stand.

If he could set up his catapult, it would be a perfect opportunity to pick off some targets. But the moment he set it up, he would surely be spotted from the air, and Kevin’s time in the exercise would likely come to an end.

While he hesitated, Kevin noticed a person crouching in the grass on the other side, facing the Red Army with his back to Kevin. Kevin couldn't make out the uniform, but since he was facing the Red Army, he was likely a Blue Army soldier.

The two armies were locked in a firefight, and the Blue Army seemed to be trying to sneak someone around to the Red Army's flank. Even if it were just one person, if he were a master, he could cause a lot of trouble. Kevin decided immediately to stop him—this would be his target!

Lacking confidence in his own strength and fearing the target might be a master, Kevin didn't dare approach rashly. He pulled out his bow, aimed at the target’s lower back, and let an arrow fly. This choice of aim was deliberate; masters could sometimes sense attacks from behind, and if he aimed for the head, a slight tilt would make it easy to dodge. But an attack on the lower body required a much larger, more difficult evasive movement.

Furthermore, since the target was crouching in the grass, an arrow aimed low would come through the brush and be hard to spot. Kevin was only an average archer, so he wasn't confident in hitting a headshot. In a real battle, choosing the tactic best suited to oneself was the only way to ensure success.

The arrow whistled through the air and struck with a soft thud. The man groaned. Kevin was pleased with his success, but he didn't stop; he fired another arrow, then another. He knew the Blue Army had various rules—sometimes one arrow wasn't enough to register a "kill." He had to fire like a torrential rain, giving the enemy no time to breathe.

He fired five arrows, all of which hit. Just as he was about to release the sixth, the man suddenly stood up. Kevin was shocked. He was wearing a Red Army uniform? Had he hit a friendly soldier?

"F*ck!" the man roared, "I’m just trying to take a sh*t, and I get shot five times!"

Kevin: "..."

"Who? Who’s out there? Show yourself!" The man was clearly furious. "Shooting is one thing, but you shot me in the ass every single time! Do you have any idea how hard it is to take a dump in peace?"

Kevin lowered his head, filled with guilt... and turned to run.