The Medieval Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset

The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 90

90. Each One’s Thoughts

From Noble mtl dot com

When I used to enjoy [Fantasy Monarch],

One day, I teamed up with other users for a team battle, and immediately after our first round loss, the team leader singled me out in the chat, as is typical of an immersive game.

[Dude, why did you pull out your troops back there?]

[?]

[No. You should’ve held out even if it meant losing your entire army.]

That’s right. This was when I first started playing [Fantasy Monarch].

Back then, I was full of sensitivity and immersed in the game, and I protested that the soldiers making up our army were all someone’s father, child, and husband.

A normal user would have snapped back with, ‘Get a grip, idiot. It’s just a game,’ but like a true immersion-focused game, the reply I got back was medieval through and through.

[Then why are you at war?]

[What’s wrong with trying to save people?]

[Isn’t it crazy to start a war without intending to kill a single person? Are you playing a war game to get a hundred kills? If so, go play a different game. What are you doing in a war game?]

[…!!!]

His words were an epiphany, and after reading a few military-related books, I realized he was right.

It’s true that pointless attrition should be minimized, but if you’re so focused on reducing attrition that you fail to achieve your most important objective, then you’ve lost. Victory in war is about achieving your objectives, not minimizing casualties.

Protecting your soldiers is a virtue of a general, but if you love your soldiers so much that it clouds your judgment, you will become a defeated general. Sometimes, you have to send your soldiers to certain death in order to secure victory.

Each of these phrases struck a chord with me.

Although it was just an illusion created by a CPU and a graphics card gnawing at my body, it was quite a shock to me, immersed as I was in the role of a medieval lord.

You can’t go to war without killing people.

It doesn’t matter if they’re your allies or your enemies.

Once I realized this, user team battles started to look very different.

[This bastard was supposed to support me, but where did he go?]

[LOL I took out the enemy’s main force instead.]

It’s said that all strategies and tactics basically boil down to the hammer and anvil approach.

I distinguished myself by boosting the morale of our troops so that they would fight bravely to the end, while using my real forces to cut off the enemy reinforcements.

Of course, the teammate who became the anvil had a different perspective.

[Dammit, my troops got wiped out too.]

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[ㅋㅋㅋ You have no troops? Okay, I’ll come help.]

It seemed that he had lost too many troops.

I extended a helping hand to my struggling teammate, as any normal person would. I offered to take over the defense of the front lines while he replenished his forces.

The result:

[? What the heck? Why are you laying siege to my capital?]

[You said you had no troops, so I’m taking over for you for a bit. Surrender.]

[F*ck, this crazy bastard, it’s war, f*ck!]

Unfortunately, a conflict arose with a team member who prioritized his safety over the greater good of the team’s victory.

Naturally, it ended with my overwhelming victory as I preserved my troops, but this incident caused a huge stir within our team. Teammates who were curious about what had happened chimed in one by one.

[From what I heard, it’s not right to lend the castle, right? How can you defend the castle if you send all your troops away?]

[No, I’m not saying I’ll take it until the end of the game, but they’re saying they’ll take care of the defense, so why are they freaking out even after hiring mercenaries?]

[All the enemy troops are away, so we should look for the right timing to advance, but we’re fighting over this?]

However, the multiplayer of [Fantasy Monarch] gathers pure evil.

There was no way I could side with the users who were uselessly whining because our teammates had lost all their troops. My teammates thought that I, who had contributed to the war and had a solid foundation, was the right person to make the change, rather than an invalid who didn’t know when they would recover from their losses.

In the end, the user who had grown horns even badmouthed his teammates.

[These f*cking bastards, they played a medieval game and even their minds have become twisted. Don’t tell me they’re some kind of feudal lord’s sons?]

[Please;;; think about the team’s victory;;;]

[F*ck you, you f*cking bastards]

I fully understand the anger and betrayal he must have felt. But thanks to us, we were able to win.

It was the result of one person becoming a grindstone, getting hit a little, no, a lot, and successfully cutting down all the enemies. The person who was forced to become a grindstone must have cursed like a sailor…

At that time, when our skills were evenly matched, could we have won without one person sacrificing ourselves?

When I asked this question, even the user who had been cursing at his teammates for being uncivilized quietly accepted reality. The user who had told me to play a war game like a war sent me a chat filled with mixed emotions.

[I told you to play a war game, and you came back as a general.]

[But we won, right?]

[If we had lost that sh*t, would you have been a human being?]

In the end, I remember the game ending relatively peacefully, considering its nature.

I told them a little roundabout while talking about the funny game story, but the conclusion is this. War inevitably requires sacrifice. You have to be able to tolerate a few defeats for a greater victory, and you have to be able to turn a blind eye to a few deaths to achieve your ultimate goal.

It was a decision that would save more people to step back and observe the situation without getting involved with the sacrificial lambs exposed to ruthless violence.

This is when [game mindset] is more helpful than you think.

With this background, there were three candidate locations that were finally selected after much deliberation.

April 13, 1213.

It was the result of gathering minimal information through contact with local fishermen and relentless scouting.

I moved my finger over the map marked with crude symbols and simplified contour lines, pointing at them one by one.

I looked straight into the faces of the knights as they subtly contorted.

“About half a day’s journey upstream from the Heze River, there’s Poreville to the east with a population of about 900. The residents have received help from a nearby manor and have formed a self-defense group, so they have some defense capabilities and have invasion, avoid but now that the surrounding villages have fallen, I think they’ll soon be targeted.”

“If the pagans are after spreading fear… Your Grace is right.”

“The local fishermen detained that Poreville is surrounded by a fairly high fence. If even Poreville isn’t safe, rumors of that will spread and all the nearby villages will be clamoring to evacuate. However, the pagans tend to avoid sieges that take time .”

Pirates do what they do to make a living.

It’s similar to how robbers hold guns, but quickly run away before the police arrive. You can win a fight, but why fight when there’s an easier way out?

From our pagan perspective, sieges were exactly like that. It would be boring as hell to waste time when you can’t even have a good fight.

The evidence of this was the monastery-based defensive strongholds that were set up all over the Duchy of Powys.

“Veronese, located about two days west of the Heze River, is proof of that. Our scouts have confirmed that there’s no response, but there’s definitely some activity. It was originally a monastery, so I assume that the serfs gathered there using the stone structures as a barricade.”

“Will the food they have in stock be enough to hold out?”

One of the knights looked at me with concern, but I couldn’t ignore it.

“It’s better to starve to death there together than to run away and fall into the enemy’s hands. We’ve already sent out a few detachments disguised as pagans to threaten Veronese. The serfs hiding in Veronese will think they’re surrounded and will stay docile for a while.”

“Your Grace, that’s…”

“Instead of running away in fear, they would help our victory by buying time with their shields.”

What could serfs do against human butchers sailing up the river on boats?

It was rather dishonorable and somewhat vile, yet a much better alternative than watching the starving serfs flounder. The knights seemed to be divided on this matter.

“How can a knight use the weak as shields!”

“Will they buy enough time if they run away? Hiding in the abbey might be better.”

“This is a headache… Ugh…”

Regardless, I pointed out our next destination with my finger.

“The last one is the middle of the Heze River. Coveville, located on a bend, is a cove surrounded by the river on three sides. About 500 people live there, and it would have been easy to defend against foreign invasion… but the fishermen struggled that the soil around the village is deposited and the water is shallow, making it surprisingly easy for people to pass through.”

“Curious. Isn’t that area already under the influence of the pagans? How have they survived?”

“Well, how have they survived?”

The fact that a place that should have fallen long ago had survived was quite interesting. The knights were hopeful to hear that Coveville was alive, while some noticed something was amiss and quietly lowered their gaze.

“According to the local fishermen, they survived by accepting refugees and offering some to the pagans. The fishermen said that the people of Coveville must be avoided. They are strongly suspected of apostasy. The problem is the intention of the pagans who left Coveville alone .”

The people of Coveville survived by offering some of their own to survive.

But even that must have reached its limit. What mattered most was the intention of the pagans. Why did they spare Coveville when the villages upstream of the Heze River had surrendered and offered human sacrifices?

It was easy to guess.

“I think the pagans deliberately left Coveville alone to make it easier to harvest humans. I don’t know when that will happen.”

I don’t know which of the three places will be attacked.

But if one of the three had to be attacked, I would willingly choose Coveville.

“We can decide when that happens.”

They’ll all be questioned for apostasy or heresy anyway, so why do it twice?

I had to leave them with a decent excuse so that I could pass them off as serfs… no, workers. Survivors who had been sacrificed to the pagans and survived.

That should be enough for them to be exempted from heresy questioning, right?

***

For warriors who served the old gods, peace was a bittersweet existence.

It was a time to hone themselves and feel the grace of the old gods, but it was also a time when there was no battle to prove themselves.

“Hwaaam~.”

Some of the young warriors yawned as they set up rawhide tents on the charred ruins.

“What the hell. Are there no more bastards to throw?”

“We came here a month ago, but where are all the damn bastards? It’s starting to get boring.”

“Ugh… Why are these guys so weak?”

The atmosphere was dull as they sharpened their axes, even the corpses they threw at the spears were starting to rot.

In such an atmosphere, it was only natural for a young, ambitious, and bloodthirsty young man to express his dissatisfaction. He began to challenge the chieftain, Urpsson, who was praying respectfully before the altar.

“Chieftain. I have always respected your wisdom, but this time is different.”

“…”

“Even a great warrior who has received the power of the stars from beyond is just a bastard. Look. They’re not even running out in fear, they’re just hiding like mice.”

Urpsson understood that this was a challenge to his authority and an expression of dissatisfaction.

The authority of a chieftain is based solely on the support of the tribe. Now, Urpsson’s tribe was thirsting for blood. A reality that conflicted with the orders he had received from the high chieftain.

‘…But if I prioritize only the high chieftain’s orders, I will lose my power.’

Urpsson realized the limits that had been placed on him.

And perhaps there was also a hint of contempt for the bastards. He slowly nodded at the young warriors’ protest.

“You mustn’t go far. Go to the pasture we prepared in advance.”

“Oh? Why, patriarch?”

“Warriors who want to avenge the gods are eager to fight, but we can’t put a leash on them. I will allow you to form a raiding party. Take with you devout warriors who wish to offer sacrifices.”

“Kukuku… As expected of the patriarch.”

The young warriors finally backed away, satisfied.

Watching them leave, Urpsson thought about the rumors about the great warrior.

“Were they just rumors?”

Perhaps this raid would be the trigger for him to start acting again.

Urpsson was also feeling restless.