I, who was eager to retire, became an Imperial General.

Chapter 101 You, go and destroy 241 warships!
Major John felt like the sky had fallen.

He never expected that he would suddenly receive such a death-defying transfer order.

Putting aside the fact that the commander of the ground forces fighting against the Allied forces was Dolan, a famous five-star deserter in the late Empire, following him on missions was tantamount to being cannon fodder.

Just think about the 241 warships that the Allies deployed in one go during the later stages of the Battle of Faoken.

The scene, which almost covered the entire sea surface and resembled a moving black tsunami, was enough to make him feel suffocated like never before.

Moreover, the Empire's magic soldiers were unlikely to achieve their intended effect against the Shadow Orcs of the Saga Kingdom.

That absolute ability to conceal one's aura, and the ability to merge with darkness, which is similar to, yet different from, the Black Hawk Down special forces.

Unless the enemy stays put in one stronghold and waits for him to lead his magic squad to bomb them, he has no chance of taking down this troublesome force.

Even if a small force is wiped out, as long as the magic soldiers do not return to the Imperial Army's main camp but remain stationed in the field, they will inevitably be subject to a night raid by the enemy.

If there is negligence during nighttime defense, it is not impossible for the enemy to wipe them out in one fell swoop.

Furthermore, with the Allied forces having completed the debugging of Heim Alchemy technology, the Hellfire Self-Destruct Puppet Legion, as the first experimental product, will make its grand appearance in this battle, through its inexpensive yet terrifying self-destruction.

Using the power of technology, they crushed the empire's soldiers made of flesh and blood.

On the other hand, what does the Empire have?

One of the future five-star escaped generals, Dolan.

A group of Imperial Army legions that suffered from diarrhea every day due to their inability to adapt to the local environment, resulting in a decline in their already low combat strength by at least half.

Currently receiving external assistance, the Imperial Gulf Fleet and the Third Navy are engaged in a back-and-forth naval battle with the Allied initial fleet. However, within two months, they will be completely defeated due to the overwhelming number of warships. The Imperial Gulf Fleet and the Third Navy together have a total of 50 ships, and may not even be able to muster 50 ships.

Faced with such a gap that can almost be described as hopeless.

John couldn't fathom how the Empire could possibly win this war.

If it were a game, he could also use Game Master to modify the data, directly turning all the soldiers of the Imperial Army into Shattered Star Sword Saints, and upgrading all the Imperial Navy warships into Bismarck-class battleships that were ahead of their time.

Thus, through the reverse conversion of this numerical gap, perhaps the Empire can finally achieve victory in this damned Gulf War of Faoken.

But reality is not a game, and John doesn't have Game Master to enhance his stats.

The task Dormammu assigned to John was interpreted in the following way:

Go and destroy 241 Allied warships!
Ah I?
He hesitated to speak, fell silent, and felt utterly despondent.

At that moment, Major John could almost see the smiling Meng Po waving at him.

You bastard, are you kidding me!
John just wanted to curse, and even wanted to crack Dormammu's skull open to see what was going on in his head.

But he suppressed his emotions, took a deep breath, and asked Marshal Dormammu, whose complexion was also not much better and whose lips were somewhat purple due to insufficient blood oxygen levels caused by smoking all day:
"Marshal, is this your order?"

“I’m sorry, John, this is an order from the Ministry of Military Affairs, and I have no authority to change it.”

Dormammu slowly put down his smoky pipe, let out a long sigh, and looked at John, whose face was ashen, his eyes filled with guilt and self-reproach.

Between the Empire and John personally, although he didn't want to make a choice, he chose the cruelest decision for John in order to consider the bigger picture.

Even though he kept convincing himself that he was someone who had created three miracles on the Western Front and changed his own destiny single-handedly.

Perhaps this mysterious young commander, after heading to Faoken Bay...

Given the miraculous strategies he has displayed so far, and his astonishing wisdom, it's not impossible that he could help the empire turn the tide in this battle where the odds are stacked against them.

But he also knew that such a thing was almost impossible.

Leaving aside the fact that the Allied forces have already deployed a total of eighty warships in the Battle of Fauken, and whether they will continue to send reinforcements.

The army and orc troops from the Kingdom of Saga alone were enough to give John's magic troops a run for their money.

Moreover, the enemy has not even completed the reorganization of its troops yet. The only troops directly under their command are 14 squads of 30 magic soldiers.

Even if magic soldiers were temporarily transferred to fill the gaps, without prior tactical communication and training, John would not be able to manage the newly formed soldiers in a short period of time, let alone command them as he had commanded the 14th Squad, making them follow his ingenious plans with ease.

Moreover, the Second Army, led by Dolan Bayat, was still a conservative force. It would be a miracle if they considered John, a commander from the Reformist faction, one of their own!
So no matter how you look at it, this so-called support mission is just a formality; Wolf's real purpose is simply to send John to his death.

And someone as clever as John would surely see that.

Therefore, after announcing this support mission, Dormammu was already mentally prepared to be scolded by John.

To his surprise, the young commander, after his chest heaved with anger at the extremely unfair task he had given the other party, did not lash out but instead fell into a deathly silence.

She never glared at him once.

This made Dormammu feel increasingly guilty and uneasy.

He was somewhat worried that the young man might not be able to handle the pressure and might do something foolish in a moment of impulse that would be truly regrettable.

But he knew even better that even if John obediently carried out the orders, he would probably not get a good outcome in the end.

From beginning to end, this was not a fair, or even correct, decision regarding the mission.

Rather, it was an undisguised malice and targeting of someone who longed to rebuild the glory of the empire, under the guise of political struggle!
Prime Minister Wolff, who orchestrated all of this, deserves to die, and his superior, who indirectly caused it all, should atone with his death.

But ultimately, he had to consider the bigger picture.

Even if it means sacrificing this young seed on which he had placed boundless hopes and a bright future.

If possible, Dormammu would even be willing to die in place of the other.

But that came from the communication device, from the king's long silence followed by a sigh, and from the Ministry of Military Affairs' unequivocal rejection.

However, it would not fulfill his wish, that of an old man in his twilight years, to extinguish his own flame for the rising star.

Fate, why must you do this?
Dormammu painfully closed his eyes, and then, as he took a deep breath, intending to suppress his trembling vocal cords and, with the composure he was once most proud of but now loathed, issue that cruel order to the young commander before him.

The next second, the other person's calm voice slowly entered his ears.

The contents of the document made his eyes widen involuntarily.

"Marshal Dormammu, if we want to complete this mission, I think I may need to deploy a lot of magic soldiers!"

Major John said this with a calm expression.

Then, seemingly realizing his description wasn't accurate enough, Major John, under Dormammu's blank stare, added again to the silent Marshal Dormammu:
"I need at least eight hundred magic soldiers to support me, and of course, it would be better to have more."

"Only in this way can I have the confidence to win this war, Your Excellency Marshal!"

John's voice was calm and steady, without any anger.

But for some reason, these seemingly casual words caused Dormammu's previously stagnant emotions to begin to stir again.

He looked at the young man in front of him with a flicker in his eyes.

Looking into the other person's eyes, filled with calm and serenity, and into their face, so young that it made one unable to help but feel suspicious.

But at this moment, Dormammu could sense from the other party a courage that would instill unprecedented fear in those despicable people.

That flame of rebellion, seemingly lit by the hands of the gods themselves, never to be extinguished, powerful enough to devour all darkness!
He quietly examined and weighed this will and determination that was difficult to describe in words.

After a long while, a smile suddenly appeared on his face, and it grew stronger and stronger.

In the end, it even looked somewhat ferocious.

Then, turning to this young man who had inspired both admiration and unprecedented anticipation in him, he slowly spoke:

"In the name of the current Field Marshal of the Third Air Army, Major John Maslow, I will assign you one thousand genuine magic soldiers!"

"In return, I need you to secure this damn victory for me. Can you do that?!"

"I swear to you in the name of John Maslow, I will not let you down, Your Excellency!"

……

(End of this chapter)