Chapter Ninety: Killed by a Thrown Shoe

The military exercise mobilized approximately forty percent of the nation's military strength, totaling around eight hundred thousand soldiers. The Red Army fielded over five hundred thousand men, while the Blue Army had over two hundred thousand. Every army group participated, encompassing over three hundred legions. Aside from the border guards and the navy, almost every unit sent at least a portion of their forces.

The exercise took place at the intersection of three cities' borders. The area was vast, remote, and topographically complex, yet free of dangerous magical beasts. A long river ran through the center, serving as the boundary. Both sides would choose their camping grounds on their respective sides, then begin their offensive and defensive maneuvers until a victor was decided.

Victory could be achieved in several ways: one side surrendering, a camp being overrun, or one side suffering catastrophic losses. If a commander fled alone and hid in a hole, stubbornly refusing to surrender, it would be meaningless, in which case the Directorate would make the final ruling.

A military exercise naturally required a Directorate. Without one, many conditions could not be simulated, and disputes or controversies would be impossible to resolve. The Directorate acted as both the directors and the referees.

In previous years, exercises were small-scale affairs. They simply cordoned off a piece of land, brought in two regiments to clash, and even then, they could not fight in earnest. They used wooden swords and wooden knives coated in paint. Arrowheads were snapped off and replaced with wooden plugs, glue, and paint; once an arrow struck, it would stick to the target to indicate a hit. Even if the arrow fell off, it would leave a red mark.

In such battles, if someone played dirty and refused to "die" after being struck or shot, it became very troublesome. The Directorate was established for this reason. Its members were all Archmages or Sword Saints. If anyone cheated, the Directorate would immediately rule it as foul play, and the entire regiment would face severe punishment.

Larger-scale exercises had been considered before, but communication capabilities in the past could not keep up. Back then, commanding troops relied on a few methods: beacon fires, carrier pigeons, and fast horses. All three had major limitations. Beacons could only transmit limited information and were heavily affected by the weather. Carrier pigeons lacked the intelligence; armies marched and changed positions too quickly, and released pigeons often failed to find their targets. As for fast horses, they were undoubtedly the slowest.

Ever since parrots were equipped in the military on a large scale, communication had been secured, making it possible for the Directorate to monitor the entire army independently. Consequently, the first large-scale exercise could finally be implemented.

The assignment of Red and Blue sides was decided by drawing lots. However, the simulation parameters dictated that the Red Army outnumbered the Blue Army by about two to one, while the Blue Army's individual units were set to be significantly stronger. Furthermore, the Blue Army integrated elite combatants from various races. Not only did they have renowned units like the Ryan Empire's Dragon Knights and the Elven Mountain Giants, but they also included Necromancers and Dragonkin Warriors who had once appeared on the continent, and even summoned Outworlders.

For instance, if my character was set as a Dragonkin Warrior, I wouldn't "die" even after taking a dozen slashes, whereas I would only need to swing my blade through the air to make you "die." Such was the power of the simulation settings.

It was not without reason that the Red Army had lost almost every battle in past exercises. The Red Army was not fighting the Blue Army; they were fighting the simulation settings. However, neither side stood to lose anything regardless of who won or lost—it was merely a matter of pride. The primary purpose of the exercise was to test capabilities—not just those of the soldiers, but more importantly, those of the commanders. The true meaning of the exercise lay in seeing how much they could achieve under extreme adversity.

By the end of February, all participating legions began moving toward the intersection of the three cities. Local constables cleared the area beforehand, driving away all bystanders and setting up checkpoints to prevent curious onlookers and foreign spies from sneaking in. Although the area was too vast to make it completely airtight, they did their best.

Even assassins were involved in this exercise. The Assassin Guild Master had summoned most of his members; except for a few who could not return from foreign missions, almost everyone attended.

"Our mission this time is not assassination," the Guild Master began, scanning the hundred or so black-clad, masked figures before him. His daughter, Little Spoon, stood at the very back of the group. "We do not belong to the Red or Blue side. We are acting as a third party to assist the Directorate in monitoring the exercise."

"With the total forces reaching eight hundred thousand, it is impossible for our group of less than a hundred to monitor everyone," the Guild Master explained. "Our primary focus will be the command structures of each legion. Even then, we will be stretched thin, so each person will be responsible for multiple command posts, moving between them constantly. Once the fighting starts, both sides will suffer heavy casualties, and it will become easier to manage."

"These are your tokens, one for each of you. Do not lose them. With this token, you can enter and leave both camps at will. When the commanders are free, they will also report their status to you. But remember, any intelligence you gather must only be reported to the Directorate." The Guild Master listed a series of rules. "Neither army is allowed to attack you, and you must not attack either side. These are the settings."

"Any questions?" the Guild Master asked.

An assassin in the front row spoke up, "How much does this mission pay?"

"Do not speak of money. We are serving our country. Why bring up money?" the Guild Master said with a straight face.

Everyone: "..."

"This is a mandatory mission. You have no choice, and even I have to work. If there are no questions, off you go. Little Spoon, stay behind." The Guild Master waved his hand. With a series of rustling sounds, the figures vanished. Within moments, only Little Spoon remained in the empty hall.

"I am not worried about the others, but I fear you might run into trouble," the Guild Master sighed.

"I'll be fine. It's not an assassination mission anyway," Little Spoon said dismissively.

"You've been reading Kevin's new book lately, haven't you?" the Guild Master cut straight to the point.

Little Spoon remained silent.

"It is obvious that Kevin is also participating in this exercise. Although a single catapult might not achieve much, there is always a chance," the Guild Master warned. "Remember, if you encounter Kevin during this exercise, do not speak a single word to him! You are responsible for monitoring, not chatting. Understood?"

"Huh?" Little Spoon was taken aback.

"I've interacted with Kevin a few times, and I've read some of his books. If nurtured, he could be quite talented," the Guild Master sighed. "Never mind. In short, you are not allowed to speak to him! I am not worried about anything else, but rather the fairness of this exercise. You have too little experience; he might trick you into revealing information, understand?"

"Alright," Little Spoon nodded in agreement.

"If you speak to him, you will be stoking the kitchen fires for the rest of your life when you return," the Guild Master threatened.

"Yes, sir!" Little Spoon answered solemnly. As an assassin, she possessed basic professional discipline.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the Thunder Knights had already set out for the border region. While the cavalry moved with incredible speed, their logistics could not keep pace. They had to slow down to march together, which allowed Kevin's catapult to keep up.

By early March, the legions finally arrived at their designated locations one after another. General Ode of the Thunder Knights, acting as the Red Army's Commander-in-Chief, commanded over two hundred legions. He delegated the direct command of his own Thunder Knights to his staff officers.

Since entering the border region, Kevin had not seen the General. Every time there was a meeting, he only saw the staff officer who had previously given him a hard time.

"The Thunder Knights are now under my command," the staff officer announced, waving his hand. Two guards stepped forward, carrying a large sand table. It was a topographical map of the surrounding area created by the army's earth mages for command and tactical planning.

Red flags were already pinned on the sand table, marking the current positions of the Red forces. The Blue forces' positions were still unknown, so there was not a single blue flag.

"According to the Commander-in-Chief's instructions, you will charge straight through this path. You do not need to worry about anything else—just charge forward. Slay whatever stands in your way." The staff officer waved his hand grandly. "In two days, we must occupy this open plain. This is where our cavalry..."

"Report!" A guard rushed into the tent. "Acting Commander, someone claiming to be from the relevant department requests an audience."

"The relevant department?" The staff officer was startled, then quickly realized. "Oh, it must be a supervisor sent by the Directorate. Let him in."

The guard immediately obeyed. Moments later, an unfamiliar young man entered the tent. He had delicate features, wore a mage's robe, and was surrounded by six or seven parrots.

Seeing everyone's gaze on him, he merely smiled. "Do not mind me. I am here to assist the Directorate with supervision. Carry on with your discussion."

"Someone, bring a chair," the staff officer ordered.

"No need. I will be moving around," the man declined, standing to the side with a smile.

However, discussing military secrets in front of an outsider made everyone uncomfortable. The commanders of the independent units stood awkwardly in front of the sand table, silent. The staff officer tapped his fingers, lost in thought, seemingly waiting for the supervisor to notice the awkward atmosphere and leave on his own.

The supervisor clearly saw the problem, but he remained standing, smiling at everyone.

"Ahem, the supervisor has traveled far. How will you be handling your lunch?" the staff officer asked.

"No need to worry about that. I will handle it myself, and I will not touch a single bite of the army's rations," the man replied with a smile.

"Then what about lodging? Should we clear out a tent in the camp?" the staff officer asked. "Someone, prepare..."

"No need. Lodging is not an issue for us," the man refused.

The staff officer was helpless. He wanted to dismiss the man but could not order him around. Although he was a third-party supervisor, this was still human society, and relationships were bound to play a part. The safest bet was to keep him from hearing anything. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do now, so the staff officer had to continue assigning tasks.

"We must occupy this open plain. The exact timing... will be announced later." The staff officer waved his hand, clearly distrustful of the new supervisor. "Return and prepare immediately. Bring your own dried meat and rations. To maintain speed, this assault will inevitably separate us from the logistics department. Any questions?"

"Acting Commander!" Kevin had to raise his hand. "My catapult cannot keep up with the speed of the cavalry."

"You..." The staff officer frowned, wondering what a single catapult could possibly achieve. He immediately ordered, "Go report to Regiment 213. They are a catapult regiment. You will operate with them."

"But... why do I see several flags labeled '213' on the sand table?" Kevin leaned forward to search carefully. "Where exactly are they?"

"That is a decoy tactic!" Lieutenant Colonel House, who was standing nearby, explained. "The enemy's aerial forces are extremely powerful this time. The Wind Knights are the strongest in the country, and they have been designated as Wyvern Riders. Setting up multiple fake targets and camps on the ground will help us evade their reconnaissance and air raids."

"Then where is the real location of Regiment 213?" Kevin asked.

The staff officer spread his hands. "For security reasons, only the Red Army commanders, the Directorate, and a few high-ranking officials know. Therefore, I do not know where they are either."

Kevin: "..."

"Report!" Suddenly, the guard at the entrance rushed in again, this time visibly panicked. "A troop of cavalry has suddenly appeared outside the camp, carrying blue flags!"

"So soon?" Everyone present was horrified.

Logically, the Red and Blue armies were positioned in the east and west respectively, separated by a vast distance. A normal march would take two weeks. With both sides supervised by the Directorate, it was impossible for anyone to start early. How could the enemy attack when they had only half-completed their camp?

"It's a teleportation array!" The staff officer reacted quickly. "The enemy has an Archmage!"

"Unit One, deploy immediately! Units Two and Three, flank them from the sides! Do not engage yet. Let me assess the situation! All logistics units, prepare to withdraw!" The staff officer gave rapid orders, and everyone sprang into action.

Outside the camp, a troop of cavalry bearing blue flags was indeed charging toward them. Their numbers were small, only about a hundred riders. However, whatever their simulated settings were, they must have had some backing to dare approach at this time.

When teleporting an entire unit, there was a significant delay. Therefore, it was impossible to teleport directly into an enemy camp or too close to it. The delay would give the defenders enough time to slaughter them. They could only teleport onto an open field three kilometers away before launching their assault.

The Thunder Knights were well-trained. In moments, they assembled and rode out to confront the enemy. Both sides stood in neat formations, their red and blue flags fluttering in the wind, though they held only wooden swords and wooden spears.

The staff officer rode out from the ranks. "What is your setting?"

A leader from the enemy side stepped forward. "We are Orc Wolf Riders!" Although they were human cavalry riding horses, their simulated setting was Wolf Riders, so their strength would be measured accordingly.

"To be honest, our speed is a bit lacking," the enemy leader sighed. "If we were real Wolf Riders, we would have breached your camp by now. I see some of your tents aren't even finished, and there are gaps in your perimeter wall."

"Cut the chatter," the staff officer sneered. "Your lack of speed is your own problem. Tell me, how do we handle this? A duel between champions? Let the Directorate judge? Or shall we have a real clash?"

Even with a powerful setting, whether one could utilize it effectively was another matter. The Thunder Knights were legendary; if they truly fought Orc Wolf Riders, it would generally be a one-for-one trade. However, the soldiers playing the Wolf Riders were far inferior. Although the Directorate could pre-program offensive and defensive capabilities during combat, actual skill and speed were difficult to standardize. There was still a gap between an exercise and a real fight.

"Then let the Directorate judge," the opponent replied.

"I believe we should have an actual battle," the staff officer countered.

"Then we go by the exercise rules," the opponent smiled. According to the rules, when the two sides disagreed, the Directorate would make the ruling.

At the Directorate, three mages were channeling mana into a crystal ball, while several Archmages and Sword Saints watched. These were all figures of great renown, including the Principal of the Royal Academy and the Leader of the Mercenary Coalition.

"The Red Army's Thunder Knights and the Blue Army's Orc Wolf Riders have engaged in combat," a specialized parrot-communication mage reported from the front lines. "The Blue Army has 123 riders, and the Red Army has their entire regiment. They are requesting a ruling from the Directorate."

Several Archmages immediately waved their staves, and two groups of elemental puppets materialized on the open ground nearby. The numbers were scaled down proportionally, and the puppets' strengths were adjusted according to the settings of both sides before they were set to clash. The outcome, scaled back up, would determine the result of the battle.

This was a relatively fair way to fight. With multiple Archmages and Sword Saints witnessing the simulation, it was far more just than simply deciding a victor on a whim. While not perfectly accurate—as human skill was difficult to replicate with puppets—there was no other way. They could not allow a bloodbath. Even with wooden spears, the impact of a cavalry charge was no joke.

The puppet battle would take some time. The Directorate waited in silence, and on the battlefield, both sides waited in silence as well. They stood in formation, staring at each other in absolute quiet.

Suddenly, a crow flew rapidly through the sky, clutching a slipper in its talons. Mid-flight, it released its grip. The slipper spun through the air, heading straight for the Wolf Rider leader.

The Wolf Rider leader reached up and caught it. He looked at it, then threw it aside. "What is this?" He shook his hand, which seemed to hurt from catching the object.

The members of the Thunder Knights naturally recognized this tactic. They looked around, wondering how this would be counted. However, military discipline was strict, so they did not say anything. The staff officer remained silent, his expression unreadable.

After a moment, Kevin walked out from the back of the formation to the front. "Apologies, Commander, but you have just been killed by my catapult."

Everyone: "..."

"That's impossible!" the opponent shook his head.

"You didn't expect me to launch a real stone, did you?" Kevin asked. "If that had been a real stone, would you still have tried to catch it?"

"Your hypothesis is meaningless," the opponent argued. "If a real stone had come flying, I would have dodged. I only caught it because I saw it was a slipper."

"I knew you would say that, Commander," Kevin said, pulling out another slipper. "Before the exercise, I had someone forge an iron slipper. Think about it. If it had been this slipper, would you still be alive?"

Kevin casually tossed the iron slipper onto the ground. It landed with a heavy, metallic thud, its weight clearly substantial. The enemy commander's face paled slightly. "You... that's still not right! We are currently in combat with the Thunder Knights, waiting for a ruling. If we were in the middle of battle, I would be moving very fast. Your catapult could never hit me!"

"My catapult can hit moving targets to a certain extent," Kevin replied. "And you were indeed hit. I hope you will respect the rules of the exercise."

"I refuse to accept this!" the opponent retorted.

"Then let us ask the Directorate to judge," Kevin said, spreading his hands.

The information was immediately sent back to the Directorate. The Archmages and Sword Saints were highly intrigued and analyzed the situation thoroughly. Although hitting an individual with a catapult was generally considered a low-probability event, it had indeed occurred. Ultimately, they unanimously ruled that Kevin had successfully killed the enemy Wolf Rider leader.

On the battlefield, a parrot swooped down and announced, "The Wolf Rider leader has been killed. The Wolf Riders are routed, suffering sixty-eight casualties."

Everyone: "..."

"What are you standing around for? Charge!" the staff officer ordered immediately, leading the charge.

The Wolf Rider leader instinctively turned to flee. "Retreat!"

The parrot flew above his head. "No need to run. You are already dead. Put on your 'corpse' tag and sit to the side to rest."

The Wolf Rider leader: "..."

(To be continued.)