Editing Tytania:Volume 4 Chapter 3 (section)

=== II ===
Every route monitoring system raised an alarm amongst the controllers.

“Ariabert and Jouslain’s fleets have changed course!”

Having departed from Bargash and appearing to head towards the Tyron Sector, the combined fleets of Ariabert and Jouslain continued their sub-light travel, their trajectory tracing a gentle curve from their original straight line. The aerospace computers were forced into full operation to predict their future course.

“It looks as though we won’t have the luxury of bothering with Elbing after all.”

Hyulick felt, rather, a sense of relief. If Ariabert and Jouslain performed such a sudden course correction that they struck Uraniborg directly, Hyulick would then be obligated to respond by moving to relieve Uraniborg. It provided him with a righteous cause. He would be able to avoid attacking the weak Kingdom of Elbing.

“So, what are we going to do now?” asked Seraphine Coopers.

Hyulick replied, appearing to be in high spirits for the first time in a long while:

“All fleets, halt forward progress. Await new orders from Uraniborg.”

One single mistake, and they might be forced into battle against the allied forces of Ariabert and Jouslain with their current strength of two thousand ships. While the possibility of such an unreasonable order being issued existed, for Hyulick, that would have been far preferable to attacking Elbing. Though his conscience had worn considerably thin through an accumulation of subjective hardships, he believed that, rather than launching an indiscriminate attack on a poor, weak nation, losing to Ariabert on a third attempt would be the more righteous path to take.

Even so, he wondered what would become of them from here on out.

If Ariabert and Jouslain continued to accumulate victories, there was a high possibility that those weighing the pros and cons would increasingly side with them. Hyulick felt a slight shiver at the decision made by Ariabert and Jouslain to cast that eventuality aside and settle the matter with the shortest and fastest means possible. Few individuals could withstand the psychological pressure of being presented with the choice between “victory or death”. They had absolutely no intention of spending the rest of their lives under the rule of Idris should they suffer defeat.

As for Idris, how was he faring?

Duke Idris Tytania was unaware that Fan Hyulick’s party was currently engaged in sabotage within a sector three days away from Uraniborg. In truth, he had far greater concerns.

When Idris first entered the combat command room, he surveyed the vast, dome-shaped interior and took his seat at the central command station, overworking his brain to the point of a splitting headache.

The total military strength of Tytania was said to be one hundred thousand vessels, with twenty thousand of those under the command of Ariabert and Jouslain. Even so, while eighty thousand should have been counted under Idris, twenty thousand were undergoing maintenance, repairs, or rest, and another twenty thousand were assigned to patrol and guard duties across various sectors of the vast cosmos; thus, the strength Idris could freely deploy at that moment was approximately forty thousand. This was double that of the enemy.

However, for Idris, who desired nothing less than a complete victory, he could not help but feel it was still insufficient. If the military of the lesser nations joined the enemy, or if a portion of his allies defected, the force ratio would quickly dwindle to something like thirty thousand against thirty thousand. Provided they possessed their military satellites and massive arrays of fortress cannons, Uraniborg should still hold the advantage in combat power, and yet…

“If they are able to advance this far, Tytania is already finished.”

That was the general consensus. Therefore, when Idris ordered the operators to activate the three-dimensional simulator, it was with a fleet battle in mind.

“First, try a U-shaped depth formation.”

“Understood!”

The operators’ fingers danced across their consoles, and in response, points of light within the three-dimensional simulator moved and transformed. A group of blue points of light, arranged in a U-shape, partially encircled a thick, arrow-shaped cluster of red light. The red points represented the enemy, while the blue points represented the allies.

The operators’ gazes were subtly directed toward the supreme commander. Realising this, Idris knew he had to say something appropriate.

“If the base of the U-shape is too thin, there is a risk that the centre could be breached, splitting our forces to the left and right.”

“Understood. Even so, it would still be entirely possible to execute a pincer attack from both flanks.”

Idris nodded, crossing his arms lightly.

“Next, the layered deep defence.”

At his command, the operator responded:

“To crudely put it, it’s like ‘peeling an onion<ref name="ftn14">“Peel an onion” (タマネギの皮むき) is pronounced “slice onion”.</ref>’, but I believe this formation would be advantageous for wearing down the enemy.”

“I am aware of that much.”

“Yes, I beg your pardon.

The operator’s voice stiffened. Sensing this, Idris felt a small sense of satisfaction. He could feel the awe the operator held for him.

Within the three-dimensional simulator, the clusters of blue light points transformed more dramatically and extensively than before. The thin, plate-like formations were layered one after another, front to back, with intervals between them. Once the cluster of red enemy light points breached one line, they would face the next. Once that was broken, a third plate-like formation awaited them. With each breakthrough, the red light points would steadily diminish.

Idris’ eyes shone, as if this were a live combat engagement against Ariabert and Jouslain.

“Shall we go with this?…” muttering Idris to himself, bitter look entering his eyes.

He had realised that his tactics were on the verge of becoming passive without even a single blow being struck.

“There is also the strategy of separating and converging, but…”

Of course, it would be ideal if it worked, but if the timing of each fleet’s arrival were even slightly off, it would result in the folly of piecemeal engagement. The arriving fleets could be defeated one after another, potentially leading to the disgrace of total annihilation.

Idris leaned one elbow on the desk and rested his chin on the back of his hand, lost in thought.

The three-dimensional simulator was reproducing the final phase of the battle. In this stage, Idris’ forces consisted of forty thousand undamaged ships. In comparison, Ariabert and Jouslain should have suffered a certain amount of loss. Perhaps around fifteen thousand ships. While the first step towards victory was to assemble more troops than the enemy, at this particular stage, Idris already held the upper hand.

A thought flashed through his mind, and he spun his command seat around to glare at the group of generals stationed behind him.

“What if…”

There was a note of ''schadenfreude'' in Idris’ voice.

“What if Fan Hyulick were to intercept his course with some two thousand ships? I wonder if that bastard Ariabert could remain so composed.”

One of his admirals questioned him:

“And what would the Kingdom of Elbing do in such an event?”

“Ah, I had forgotten.”

It was an honest reaction.

“Leave them be. We shall crush them at a later date. Provided I even remember them, that is.”

Originally, his intent to attack and annihilate the Kingdom of Elbing had been to confound Jouslain and disrupt his strategic deployment. It was an operation involving a mere two thousand ships. Now that such a need had vanished, there was no necessity to strike the Kingdom of Elbing. Furthermore, with the situation having changed so drastically, it would have been a waste to leave even a force of two thousand ships merely as a garrison.

Idris himself would never admit it, but an undeniable truth existed. Compared to Idris, Ariabert possessed far more extensive combat experience. Furthermore, there was the skilled Jouslain. While his experience in field command was not much different from Idris’, one could never predict what kind of schemes he might devise to assist Ariabert. In Idris’ eyes, his tactics were nothing short of “cunning”.

''If only Zarlisch were still around,'' thought Idris for the first time. If only he could have utilised that man’s destructive power and leadership—but Zarlisch had never been a man to follow Idris blindly. Had Idris not been prepared to take a subordinate position, an alliance with Zarlisch would likely never have been possible.

In any case, Zarlisch was already dead, and it was impossible to alter the past. If anything, Idris found his own momentary weakness of thought infuriating. Gazing at the three-dimensional simulator, he posed several questions:

“If the rebels move into this area, won’t the shortest route connecting Kafir and Tyron be blocked?”

“If they were to occupy the area for an extended period, that might be the case; however, if they are merely passing through, we estimated that the impact on logistics and travel would remain within a negligible range.”

“There are armies in both Kafir and Tyron. They aren’t strong or large. But can we at least demand of them that they halt the rebels’ advance?”

“I fear they will only come if they are promised a reward.”

“I’ll give them whatever they want.”

Idris spat the words out with contempt.