Deployment At The Front

The Doicheun Empire formally declared war on the Polia Kingdom. Justification could always be fabricated, and this time, they claimed the Polia Kingdom was disrupting peace by selling unnecessary weapons to neighboring countries.

With this declaration, the Polia Kingdom accepted the terms of war. News of the declaration rippled throughout the kingdom. Understandably, many were anxious about going to war with an empire.

Conversely, some claimed that, just as they had defeated the Nubea Kingdom before, they would prevail again. The key difference was that this time, the Polia Kingdom wasn’t launching an assault—it was in a defensive position.

In reality, the kingdom’s military strength was divided into two. One fleet protected the colonial seas, and the other safeguarded the homeland. Since both the homeland and the colonies had to be defended, it was natural to split their forces. Of course, the main force remained with the homeland fleet.

In the capital, Pullea, a large-scale departure ceremony began. It was a confident display by the royal family—especially since they boldly announced that the princes would be joining the war, inspiring the citizens.

“Long live the Polia Kingdom!”

“Long live His Majesty the King!”

“Long live the Princes!”

“Victory over the Empire!”

Crowds gathered along the broad avenue, countless people lining the streets. Fear and anticipation coexisted on many faces. Some held onto the hope that they would triumph again, just as they had in the previous war, while others were burdened by the dread that came with facing an empire.

Perhaps because of this, the crowd’s cheers carried even more weight. As Ian rode through the city on horseback, his thoughts were already ahead, toward the battlefield rather than the ceremony.

‘How much can my psychic power help?’

Even though his power had grown stronger than in his past life, it wasn’t omnipotent. He couldn’t split warships or shatter traps. At best, he could redirect sea currents or nudge the trajectory of cannon fire.

‘I just need to survive.’

If he could survive, he could begin building a foundation for a better future. But how could he ensure survival? Avoiding the main battlefield would be best. Through his education, he had learned about the Imperial Navy—and the scale difference was enormous.

Even though Baron Grey had tried to downplay it, Ian could still sense the disparity. He suspected that the Imperial Navy held even more power than had been disclosed. Victory against them? That might be near impossible.

‘I can’t say that out loud—it’d ruin morale.’

Though he knew the odds, he had to act as if he didn’t. The safest place was away from the front lines. Initially, Ian assumed the princes would avoid the most dangerous postings—but surprisingly, all of his older brothers had requested assignments to the main fleet.

They likely believed that earning military merit would give them an edge in the line of succession. It seemed ambition was numbing their sense of danger.

‘Sure, it’s a chance for glory—and maybe they’ll be surrounded by more protective warships—but don’t they realize how risky it is? Well, good for me. If I’m stationed somewhere safer, all the better.’

As he mulled over these thoughts, Ian’s eyes locked with someone’s by chance. ‘He’s here.’ It was Armin. His face was stiff with concern, and Ian could tell he was worried. Perhaps it was just the time apart, but Armin looked thinner than before.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll come back alive.’

Ian raised his fist toward Armin. To others, it looked like the prince was simply expressing his resolve to win—but Armin understood the gesture. He raised his own fist and shouted for Ian to return safely.

With the ceremony complete, the princes began moving toward their assigned fleets. Some joined the fleet stationed in the capital, while others headed to nearby naval bases to join larger fleets.

Among them were princes assigned to the distant colonial seas—Ian included. He had been assigned to the fleet stationed in the colonies. Since it wasn’t the homeland, it was also not the main battlefield.

One Month Later

Ten ships sailed across the vast open sea, cutting through the waves. Only three were transport vessels, while the remaining seven were escort ships.

‘So far away.’

Ian stood at the rail on the second deck, gazing out over the ocean. The voyage had lasted nearly a month. He could’ve been bored, but he wasn’t. Unlike his brothers, he spent time training and studying naval tactics, using the journey to improve himself.

He glanced at the seven escort ships around him. Fortunately, they hadn’t encountered any attacks so far. The war still felt distant. A part of him had even wondered, “What if a submarine shows up?”

Thankfully, submarines were seen as dishonorable weapons and not used by the Doicheun Empire. Ian thought he would have used them regardless of the criticism. In any case, it worked out in his favor.

‘Maybe it’s because of that honor nonsense that they’re not attacking—even though they probably know a prince is crossing the ocean.’

That idea gave him a bit of comfort. Ships carrying royalty typically flew the royal banner, signaling that someone important was aboard—a subtle way to safeguard lives.

Rather than sinking such ships, it was more valuable to capture or disable them. Capturing royalty had far greater strategic worth.

That was probably why his brothers didn’t fear for their lives.

‘But how long will that last?’

If the war intensified into a total conflict, honor would be tossed aside, and both sides would become locked in mutual slaughter. For now, naval warfare might preserve some of that honor—but that wouldn’t last forever.

‘Anyway, we should be arriving soon.’

He had received word that they were nearing the colonial coast. He had also been told that his post would be with the 9th Fleet.

That’s right. He was joining the fleet commanded by Count Nudelria, Michelle’s father—his fiancée’s father.

He wasn’t sure whether it was intentional, but being assigned there didn’t seem entirely good. The 9th Fleet was often called the “scrap fleet,” consisting of outdated or underperforming warships. In terms of combat capability, they were far behind.

The princes accompanying him were the twins—Prince Seven and Prince Eight. They had been assigned to the 8th Fleet, which at least had proper ships. In other words, the fleets protecting the colonial seas were the 8th and 9th Fleets.

‘Someone definitely pulled strings behind the scenes.’

Ian didn’t know who it was, but the whole thing seemed deeply underhanded. And above all, the thought of facing his fiancée’s father, the admiral, made the situation feel even more awkward. Surely the admiral wouldn’t be pleased? From his perspective, it was as if an outsider was being inserted into his chain of command, potentially dividing authority.

Ian figured that admirals across the fleets were probably having headaches because of the princes’ assignments. None of his older brothers had the temperament to quietly obey orders, after all.

Just as Ian had expected, things were already in disarray in the fleets stationed on the mainland. The princes posted there were causing a stir. Their ranks and personalities made it hard for them to simply follow commands. This would undoubtedly lead to friction—and possibly even disrupt the entire command structure.

‘Oh, is that a plane?’

A biplane—with two wings stacked one above the other—soared overhead, passing the convoy. Ian assumed it was a reconnaissance flight. Seeing it, he couldn’t help but think that airplane technology still had a long way to go.

‘Someday, I’ll probably cross the continent in a long-range transport plane.’

Give it a few decades, and aviation would likely advance rapidly. After all, fields that sparked human interest evolved quickly. The technology and utility of aircraft held immense potential.

‘Still, it’s clearly the era of battleships and warships.’

With that thought, Ian found himself anticipating their imminent arrival at the naval base in the colonies.

Beyru, Colonial Capital

The city of Beyru, home to the colonial governor’s office, had a population of 300,000 and stood as the frontline hub of the colonial territory. It also housed the naval base. From this city, the railway lines connected to every part of the colony.

Massive quantities of goods were shipped from here to the mainland. Naturally, news that a transport ship carrying royal princes was arriving had drawn a large welcoming crowd. Many waved the Polia Kingdom’s flags.

The princes disembarked from the docked transport ships—led by Prince Eight and Prince Seven, with Ian, the Ninth Prince, following close behind. Officers accompanying them also began to descend.

Most of the officers were second-tier. Since defending the homeland was the priority, all the first-tier, highly capable officers had already been assigned to major warships.

Still, the welcoming committee was quite prestigious. Count Rolchen, the head of the colonial administration, was present, along with the admirals of both the 8th and 9th Fleets. Even nobles and business magnates operating in the colony had gathered to greet them.

‘Quite the crowd. Isn’t it a bit reckless to gather so many people when war has just started?’

Ian couldn’t help but think that one bomb dropped here would kill a lot of people. He looked down at his uniform—an officer’s attire far more lavish and ornate than standard issue. Embedded jewels and intricate embroidery made it excessively flamboyant.

‘The kingdom really has money to burn. Who thinks of decorating military uniforms with jewels?’

Not that he had a choice. These outfits were specially tailored for the princes and mandatory. The red and white ensemble exuded both elegance and formality.

They were definitely a sight to behold. Embarrassing as it was to admit, Ian, with his handsome features, and the two twin princes—both strikingly good-looking—drew attention easily. Their noble genes had done their job well.

‘Their faces haven’t changed, and they’re all acting as haughty as ever.’

The twin princes looked rigid and proud. Clearly, they took great pride in their status. Ian maintained a calm expression as he stepped onto solid ground.

‘Land really is the best.’

Nearly a month at sea had been tough. He had suffered from seasickness early on but eventually adapted. Still, there was no denying that land felt far more comfortable.

‘Trouble’s coming, that’s for sure.’

Just thinking about living aboard a warship again made his stomach churn. In any case, accompanied by military band music, they began exchanging greetings with the nobles, led by Count Rolchen.

“It’s reassuring to have the three princes here with us. Don’t you all agree?”

“Of course! Hahaha!”

“With the princes here, we feel much more secure.”

“Please grant us victory in the war against the Imperial Navy! Hahaha!”

‘Secure? They all look like they’re scared out of their minds.’

They tried to hide it, but their anxious eyes were clear as day. Meanwhile, the twin princes—oblivious—stood tall and confident, telling everyone to rely on them. Amid that, Ian had the chance to greet Count Nudelria, his fiancée Michelle’s father.

“It’s been a while, Admiral.”

“Have you been well?”

“I’ve just been living day to day. I was still a student, so I mostly studied. But with the emergency, I had no choice but to come here.”

“My youngest daughter told me. That you would sometimes escort her to the café and keep her company.”

“I had the time. Besides, she is my fiancée. It’s my duty to look after her.”

“Thank you. I couldn’t make time myself, so I’m grateful that you did in my place. When I think of her, I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed as a father.”

“We both worry too much. Michelle is always concerned about you, Admiral.”

“Is that so? As her father, I’m ashamed.”

Their conversation unfolded in a gentle, cordial atmosphere. Since final assignments hadn’t yet been made, it seemed they would discuss specific arrangements later. Ian, having already considered his options, opened his mouth to speak.