A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor -
Chapter 1445 - 1445: Furthering Competition - Part 5
"I would say that I have great expectations for you, but I wouldn't want to cripple your ability by piling on the pressure," Karstly said, laughing, with a touch of maliciousness. "Let's say… if you can make it past the first round, you'd have my compliments, and if you can make it past the second round, you'd have my respects. If you can make it that far, then I'll consider you to have grown – though the matter would still remain to be seen whether you could employ that level of strategy successfully on the battlefield, for it's an entirely different beast, I can assure you."
"Yes… well, thank you for that, General Karstly," Oliver said dryly.
"Do not mention it," Karstly said. "I ever strive to take care of my trusted subordinates."
"I do not recall the fact that I was your subordinate…"
"How can you say that, comrade, given all the service we did together?" Karstly said, feigning hurt.
"Blackwell remains my liege Lord," Oliver pointed out.
"Yes, yes, but you and I, we both serve Queen Asabel, don't we? And besides, you're far too new a weapon for Blackwell to wield you effectively. He wouldn't have allowed you the same level of leash on the battlefield that I did, would he?" Karstly said. "You can not deny that as a piece, I used you rather effectively. You have a place as my subordinate, Patrick."
"I would thank you for that…" Oliver said.
"However, it's of no interest to you?" Karstly finished for him with a grin. "Indeed, you aim for my position, don't you? You greedy little devil, you. Is that beast on the Patrick sigil eternally starving, eh?"
"I'm not—"
"Well, all in good time, Patrick," Karstly told him. "You've a few aspects to you, that would make for a good General, but we've had your fatal flaws pointed out for a while now. It would not be strange that you were unable to remedy them. We all have our different talents, after all. But I suppose we shall see. Indeed. I'll leave you to it. No doubt there are more preparations that you have to do."
The man was gone before Oliver could even think to see him off. In usual Karstly fashion, he only used noble customs when they seemed convenient to him, in the same way that he used everything else.
As if summoned by Karstly's chatter, Lord Blackwell himself found Oliver not even five minutes after.
"Patrick," he said, giving him a gruff nod of his head.
"General," Oliver said, nodding back.
"So far, so good, I do declare," Blackwell said. "The masses are enjoying it. The merchants are smiling. And the noblemen have few complaints. For the first day, I would say, you have done rather well. We've had a few interesting spectacles that will see the attentions of the people captured in the days to come. All good going, I do say. I noted Felder, in the archery tournament. She's gifted, that one. Give her my compliments."
"I shall," Oliver said. "I am sure that would mean a lot to her."
"Mhm. Mhm. Your name too has come up now. The Battle board, eh? Are you trying to prove a point, Patrick?" Blackwell said.
"I suppose trying would be the key word in that," Oliver said. "We shall see how I do. I have no particular amount of confidence."
"A slight improvement, in your case, would go far," Blackwell said. "A slight bit more competence in your strategy, and I would feel comfortable calling you a Colonel. Though your man Skullic declares that you would do well enough in it already. I suppose it goes to show the different expectations we have from our men, and our duty. Skullic favours the attack, so naturally, he would give you a high degree of value."
"And you, General? Do you not favour it?" Oliver asked.
"In my youth, perhaps," Blackwell said. "A lingering trace of Blackthorn blood in me, no doubt. But as I grow older, I see the value in a staunch defence as well. I believe I can play both roles equally as effectively. Or at least, I would like to think so."
"You have proved it to be true, General," Oliver said respectfully. "Controlling the massive Verna armies as you did."
"So they'll say," Blackwell said. "But I'm sure even you would appreciate strategy to be a delicate thing. The calculations that we perform, and the instincts we operate by, they only serve to increase the probability of victory. They don't guarantee it. That being said, even though your victory is not guaranteed in this first round, I would ask that you secure it. I think it would be a shame to have you lose too quickly."
"I shall do the best I can, General. I am in no hurry to lose either."
"You ought to be wary of your foe," General Blackwell told him. "He's a competent strategist and Colonel from what I have seen. Timmus Bookhorne, a Colonel from Tavar's army. He's a few victories to his name that are noteworthy. Indeed, I'd be on guard against him, if I were you. He's known to favour his traps."
"One of Tavar's Colonels?" Oliver said, his interest piquing. He'd hoped that General Tavar would himself be coming, given the often favourable response in his letters, but he'd yet to hear word of his arrival yet.
"Indeed," Blackwell said. "They've seen less combat than other armies, with Tavar having his role at the head of the Academy, but they aren't to be looked down on. You'll find a worthy opponent in him. Tread carefully."
"…Thank you for your warning, General," Oliver said.
Blackwell gave him one last gruff nod, before he took his leave.
'He must think I'm considerably bad off, if he felt the need to track me down and warn me,' Oliver pondered.
Then Skullic found him, not ten minutes before the whole thing was to begin, and he came with some ominous advice of his own. "You might not win this one, but at least put on a good show. I think that's the best you can ask for."
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