Chapter 1412: Prologue: The Worst Ending (Final)

The outcome of the Battle of River Valley Village was well-known within the Provincial Army—The rebels achieved a decisive victory, and the government army was completely annihilated.

However, Fritz leaned on the desk, staring at the battlefield, pondering deeply. He couldn’t figure out how Winters Montagne would deploy his troops to “win back at six o’clock what was lost at four o’clock in the battle.”

“I’m sorry.” After simulating countless times and racking his brain, even though Fritz was unwilling, he had to lower his head and humbly admit: “I don’t know.”

To Fritz’s surprise, the former department head didn’t criticize him but merely picked up a small blue flag and walked to the northeast direction of the “battlefield,” planting the blue flag behind the red side, one by one.

Fritz suddenly understood.

Immediately, a wave of dissatisfaction rose in his heart, and he stammered his protest: “Ah… he… I… I didn’t know he would appear in that place…”

Upon hearing Fritz’s words, Cornelius, who had not criticized Fritz earlier, now looked displeased.

“It’s not your fault,” Cornelius said coldly. “The commander of the government army didn’t know either.”

Fritz was at a loss for words.

Cornelius used his hand as a pointer, indicating on the “map” outside the sand table: “Let me tell you, Major Fritz, Winters Montagne led his troops over the mountains all night to reach the battlefield. And just the day before the Battle of River Valley Village, he had defeated a detachment of the government army the size of six infantry battalions on the other side of the mountain. When he determined that the main force of the rebels needed support, the Battle of River Valley Village had not even begun!”

Cornelius strode to the cabinet, grabbing another file box and heavily placing it on top of the River Valley Village battle archive box.

Fritz looked at the label on the new archive box—”Compilation of Materials on the 559-560 Border Conflicts of the Republic of Palatu.”

“If you say it was mere luck once, then perhaps you should look at this.” Cornelius opened the newly taken-out file box and pulled out a dossier: “See how he lured the enemy deep and annihilated them.”

Fritz looked at the cover of the dossier—”The 559 Winter ‘New Reclamation Legion-Terdon Tribe’ War.”

“Take a look at this as well.” Cornelius said, pulling out another dossier: “See how he feigned east to strike west and won with fewer troops.”

Fritz looked at the cover of the dossier—”Summary of Known Intelligence on the Local Rebels of the Newly Reclaimed Lands Province.”

“These are just the battles we know about; Winters Montagne surely fought battles we don’t know about.”

There are many war histories we don’t know.” Cornelius sneered disdainfully, mocking his colleagues who were completely ignorant of the actual situation in Palatu:

“Apparently, Winters Montagne’s faction seems to be the poorest and smallest in momentum among the rebel camps. Whether it’s Gaisa Adonis or Magash Colvin, each is more senior and has a bigger reputation than he does.

“However, I can tell you now, Winters Montagne’s troops are actually the strongest in combat among the rebels, have the highest control over their territory, and possess the greatest potential for the future!

“And more valuable than Winters Montagne’s troops, is Winters Montagne himself!”

Cornelius’s eyes did not blink, he was no longer speaking to the students but to himself.

The de facto principal of the Alliance Army Academy for over a decade turned the dossier at hand, satisfied, and said:

“He always finds the enemy’s weak point, always appears where the enemy doesn’t expect, always strikes the most lethal blow… Every battle could be included in textbooks.

“His rationality in judging the situation, sharpness in seizing opportunities, courage to take risks… each is something I most hope to teach you.

“Most commendably, he can always gather a large group of followers, and people are willing to go through fire and water for him… And this, even the Old Marshal couldn’t teach you.

“And he’s not even thirty; I’ve never seen any student from the Military Academy achieve higher accomplishments before the age of thirty.”

Jansen Cornelius turned to the newly recognized student, proudly asking:

“Fritz of Nise, do you think when I say Winters Montagne is ‘the most outstanding teaching outcome of the Military Academy in twelve years’, it’s because someone twelve years ago impressed me more than he does?”

No, it’s not! It’s merely because I’ve only been in charge of the research department for twelve years, so I refrain from commenting on the teaching results of my predecessors!

Fritz had nothing more to say.

Just like every teacher in the world, regardless of whether the students listened, Cornelius had said everything he wanted to say.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He scorned seeking others’ approval, and he was a bit tired.

So, Cornelius pointed to the three archive boxes in front of Fritz and instructed:

“Take them back and finish reading them before you set off—after you finish, you won’t be like others, understanding your opponent only through hearsay and stereotypes.”

Fritz looked at the three huge archive boxes on the sand table, and inexplicably, he felt his shoulders become vaguely heavier.

“Yes! I will finish reading them.” Fritz gritted his teeth, raised his hand in salute, and neatly packed all the dossiers that the former department head had taken out back into the archive boxes.

“And this.” Cornelius walked to the cabinet, bent down, and tapped another archive box: “This one is also worth a read.”

Fritz glanced at the label—”The 558 ‘Republic of Palatu-Red River Tribe’ War.”