A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1450 - 1450: Furthering Competiton - Part 10

With his previous move, he'd left his cavalry unit undefended, in full line of attack of Bookthorne's spearman. It would be an easy enough piece for Bookthorne to capture, but what he feared was what was to come after it. Oliver's other cavalry piece was certain to go on a rampage.

And so, to the disbelief of the crowd, Bookthorne was forced to let Oliver's dangerously placed cavalry unit live, in the efforts of defending his position in other places. He reoriented one of his spear units, so that its defence was more focused on the flank than it was on going forward.

"Hoh, there's a mistake," Karstly noted, from amongst the crowd, his amused smile growing by the second.

On the battlefield, Oliver noticed it too, and his reaction was instantaneous. A giant bonfire had grown, giving him a massive tactical advantage, seemingly out of nowhere, and he swept in to claim the pieces. Easily, he threaded his left-most cavalry unit past Bookthorne's reoriented defences, pointing to the new flank that he'd left exposed.

He could see the moment of devastated realization on the Colonel's face, once it was pointed out to him. Such were the results of a vicious attack – and why Oliver loved attacking so much. No matter how far ahead the defender might look, as long as one could attack, one move after the other, in a manner that forced the enemy to change their deployment, eventually, their defences would shatter, just as they did in single combat.

Oliver gobbled up a spear unit first, attacking it from the side. And then the dice was rolled again, as he attacked another, allowing him to capture that too before he ran out of movement tiles, and his turn was over.

Immediately, Bookthorne recaptured that cavalry piece, given that it was now in the heart of enemy territory. He recognized the hopelessness of his position, and knew that to let the two cavalry units exist alive together was only to invite further misfortune.

Then it was Oliver's turn, and it was practically a feast. His remaining cavalry unit – at the cost of the life of his comrade – was granted a feast, where – if the dice rolls proved favourable – he could gobble up four pieces, and practically shatter Bookthorne's centre. The first dice roll he spent dismantling a spear unit, and then the next three, knowing that the odds were even more favourable for him, Oliver gobble up bow unit after bow unit, securing himself four whole pieces in the process, and keeping that cavalry unit of his alive.

Now the centre of the board belonged to Oliver alone – and he still had a good number of archers to cover it. Though Bookthorne had fielded more archers than Oliver in his initial deployment, he only had two pieces remaining to Oliver's four, and by Battle board strategy, there was a very simple path to victory, in the form of a Bowman's Siege, that Oliver could employ.

Seeing that, the Colonel raised up his hand in defeat.

The applause of the crowd was thunderous. Only now that it was over could Oliver hear them again. There had come a moment, after his repeated sacrifices, that all his attention had been thrown onto the board that was in front of him, and he paid no mind to anything else.

He looked around, seeing that the crowd was as excited as he was . They'd only just been exposed properly to the beauty of Battle board games, but even they seemed to understand the exciting brilliance that came with building such an overwhelming attack out of repeated sacrifices.

"Well?" Karstly said to Blackwell.

"What do you mean 'well', General?" Blackwell said gruffly.

"Come now, you can't hide the fact that you are pleased, Lord Blackwell," Karstly said. "There's a Patrick there, with a passing competence in strategy. The world might very well open up and swallow us. Up might very well become down."

"It was messy," Blackwell sniffed.

"It was," Karstly agreed.

"Would you have fallen for it, like Colonel Bookthorne did?" Blackwell asked.

Karstly inclined his head. "There were elements to it that I would not fail to punish, but supposing I underestimated him enough to ignore them… Then I suppose he might have managed to scratch just a single victory out against me, if he was lucky. But now he'll never be able to use that plan of attack against me again."

"An overwhelming attacking might…" Blackwell said, considering it. "We'll have need for that, in subjugating the last of the Verna. It's hard to even say that he's improved. All his elements remain the same, he's simply reordered them. But the result was… Well, it was an impressive display."

"Perhaps we see the birth of a new attacking General, eh?" Karstly said with an amused laugh. "Look at your old friend there, General. He's certainly taking this more seriously than we."

Karstly pointed in the direction of Queen Asabel's entourage, who had managed to secure themselves a prime position right on the side of the arena's ropes. As Queen Asabel beamed her pleasure, and shared an excited conversation with a rather placid Lancelot, General Blackthorn alone kept his aura of severity. He looked down at Oliver with enough intensity that it seemed he might swallow him.

"Hm," Blackwell said. "If he acknowledges it as well, it is worthy of consideration. It is unpolished, but perhaps our Patrick man has found a way of operating with strategy that doesn't go against their principles. If you would ask me what I honestly thought to be limiting him, despite his talents, it would be scorn."

"Scorn, you say?" Karstly said. "You think our young comrade is petulant enough to look down on strategy?"

"Perhaps not consciously," Blackwell said. "But that is the way it always is with Swords. The same is true of us Generals, when we look at Swords. We assume our own way to be superior. It bars a union between the two. Perhaps he might have found it. Or perhaps, this is a single moment of passing brilliance."