War is a Toy, and You Are All Noobs

Military Strategy Club Room. North Tower.

If there was one place in this fantasy world that made me feel at "home", this was it.

The room was dark, illuminated by neon blue light from rectangular magic tables. Above the tables, 3D holographic projections of battlefields flickered. Miniature troops moved according to the players' mental commands.

This wasn't just a chess club. This was a magical Real Time Strategy (RTS).
Its official name: [Wargame: Kaiser’s Grid].

I stood in the doorway, inhaling the scent of ozone and the despair of losers.

"System," I asked internally. "How many hours did I play this mini-game in my past life?"

[Data Log: 2,400 Hours.]
[Global Rank: Top 50.]

I smirked.
My physique might be Rank F. My Mana might be poison. But here? On a simulation board where brains and micromanagement speed (APM) were everything? I was God.

I walked toward the registration desk in the center of the room. There, surrounded by club members wearing neat gray uniforms, sat a stiff-faced young man with thick-lensed glasses.

Cedric Ironhart. Strategy Club President. 3rd Year.
Specialty: Defensive Phalanx formations that were boring as hell (nicknamed 'Iron Turtle').
Personality: Looks down on anyone who isn't an 'honorable knight' fighter type.

"Member registration closed last month," Cedric spoke without looking up from his chessboard. "The exit is behind you, Freshman."

I placed my palm on his map table. Covering his cavalry unit.
"I didn't come to register as a grunt, Senior. I came for the position of Academy Team Commander."

Cedric looked up slowly. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he recognized my face.
"Amon Von Zeroth... The Golden Trash. I heard you're roleplaying as a 'Holy Child' in front of Saintess Aerith." Cedric laughed mockingly, followed by the laughter of his subordinates. "Now you want to play war games? This isn't a place for spoiled brats afraid of breaking a nail."

"I read the poster," I said casually, pointing to the flyer on the wall. "Requirement to become Commander: Defeat the current Commander."

Cedric stood up. His body was tall and large, a muscle-brain tank type trying to look smart.
"You challenge me? Do you know that defeat at this table sends a neural shock to your brain? A weakling like you could go into seizures and wet yourself."

"Worry about your own pants, Senior," I retorted. "How about a bet? If I win, the Commander position and access to the Herbology Warehouse are mine. If I lose... I will fund this club with 1 million Gold Coins per year."

The room went instantly silent.
1 million gold. That was the budget of a military department.

Cedric's eyes glinted with greed. He was sure he'd win. He was Rank 1 on the school leaderboard. I was just a freshman famous for being stupid.
"Deal. Prepare the main table!"

---

THE MATCH: Start.

We stood facing each other at the largest magic table.
Map selected randomly by System: [Misty Forest Ruins].

[Rules:]
Total Supply Points: 1000.
Unit Cap: 100.
Win Condition: Destroy Enemy Base or Kill General.

Cedric smiled arrogantly. He immediately chose his faction: Kingdom of Solaria (Knights).
Strong units, thick defense, high morale. But expensive and slow. A classic choice for beginners playing it safe.

"I will teach you the etiquette of knightly warfare, Zeroth," Cedric said, starting to arrange Heavy Shieldman troops on the front line and Paladins at the back.

Me?
I chose a faction rarely touched by people because its units were as fragile as crackers.
Goblin Scavengers.
Stats: Low HP, Low Attack, Trash Morale.
Pros: Cheap, Fast, and possessed the Self-Destruct skill (Suicide Bomb).

"Goblins?" Cedric laughed out loud. "Have you given up before starting? One of my Knights can slaughter 10 Goblins!"

I didn't answer.
My hands hovered over the control panel. My eyes stared at the topographic map.

3... 2... 1... START!

"System, activate Mode: Pro Gamer Concentration." (Note: This isn't a magic system skill, just my own habit of hyper-adhd focus).

As the game started, Cedric played by the textbook. He sent 3 Scout Cavalry units to the middle lane to secure resources, while slowly advancing his moving fortress. Slow. Fragile. Boring.

Meanwhile, my hands moved so fast they appeared as a blur (Blur).

I didn't build soldier barracks.
I spent my 1000 supply points to create 100 Goblin Sapper units (Dynamite Carriers). No weapons. No armor.

Then I didn't send them to the middle.
I scattered them into the misty forest, splitting them into 20 small groups of 5.

"Splitting forces in a misty forest?" Cedric sneered. "Total amateur! Your troops will get lost and ambushed by neutral monsters!"

Cedric sent his Main Knight (The Hero Unit) to the center of the map, destroying a few of my scout Goblins easily.
"Haha! Look! Your troops are so soft! Get ready, I'll besiege your base in 5 minutes!"

I smirked.
"Senior... have you ever heard the term Fog of War?"

"Huh?"

On Cedric's map, he could only see what his troops saw. He saw the middle lane empty.
What he didn't see was that my Goblin army had already crawled along the edge of the map. Through the river. Through sewers that other players never used because they were considered "dishonorable".

I didn't attack his troops.

I ignored his troops.

50 of my Goblin units had arrived behind Cedric's base undetected.
While the other 50 Goblins? They were doing 'Emotes' (taunting) in front of Cedric's base to bait the guard towers' attention.

"Got you!" Cedric moved his entire base protection force to chase the bait Goblins.
"Die, you rats!"

Cedric's base was wide open.

"Now," I whispered. [Execute Command: All Units, Rush Base].

From the bushes behind Cedric's castle, 50 dynamite-carrying Goblins ran out like madmen.

"WAAAAAGHH!!" (Goblin sound effect).

Cedric's eyes widened. "W-What?! Where did they come from?! Return defense forces! Return quickly!"
But his Heavy Armor troops were slow. Turning around took 30 seconds.
My Goblins needed 5 seconds.

First Goblin jumped onto the castle wall. BOOM!
Second Goblin jumped onto the gate. BOOM!

This wasn't war. This was coordinated vandalism.

Cedric's majestic castle hologram shattered into pieces, gnawed by green rats exploding themselves.
Cedric's Base HP dropped drastically.
100% -> 70% -> 40% -> 10%.

Cedric's gallant Knight troops in the middle of the map had only walked halfway back. They were too late. They were useless.

And the final touch.
I moved my General Unit (A Fat Goblin King who had just been sitting at base all this time), to perform an emergency teleport using a Scroll I found on the map (thanks to Luck stat? No, thanks to map knowledge).

My Goblin King appeared atop the ruins of Cedric's burning castle.
And he performed a t-bagging animation (crouch-stand) on top of the enemy kingdom's flag.

[GAME OVER]
[WINNER: GOBLIN FACTION (AMON VON ZEROTH)]
[DURATION: 2 Minutes 14 Seconds]

"What... just happened..." Cedric sat limply in his chair. His glasses were askew. "My strategy... My Phalanx formation..."

The entire club member body gaped. They had never seen a 'Rush' victory that fast. They were taught war was about elegant marching formations, not mass suicide terrorism.

I stretched my arms, pretending to yawn.
"Your Phalanx strategy is great for military parades, Senior," I said, walking closer to him.
I patted his trembling shoulder.

"But in war, the enemy won't wait for you to finish marching. The enemy will stab you in the ass while you're busy giving a speech."

I leaned my face to his ear.
"An Iron Turtle indeed has a hard shell. But if flip it over... it's just a creature waving its legs asking for help."

Cedric gritted his teeth, his face crimson between anger and shame. But the system had recorded it. I was the winner.

"Get off my chair," I ordered coldly.

Cedric stood stiffly, clenching his fists, then left pushing through the crowd while slamming the door. Absolute defeat. Reputation destroyed in 2 minutes.

I sat in the Captain's chair, the leather still warm.
The main screen lit up.

[COMMANDER ACCESS GRANTED]
[REWARD UNLOCKED: HERBOLOGY WAREHOUSE KEY - LEVEL 2 ACCESS]

Finally. Free Lunar Flowers. My money was safe.

But when I opened the next Tournament menu, my smile faded slightly.

[REGIONAL TOURNAMENT STARTING IN 3 DAYS]
[TEAM REQUIREMENTS: Minimum 4 Active Members]

I looked around. The club members here were all "Textbook" level. Stiff, slow, stupid.
If I took them to the Regional tournament, I'd lose in the preliminaries having to babysit.

I needed Monsters.
I needed people who could execute my crazy commands without asking too many questions (or at least were strong enough not to die on their own).

I opened the contact list on the club tablet.

"Ideal Team Composition for Fantasy RTS," I muttered while tapping the table with my finger.

1. Vanguard (Tank/Rusher): Someone who can disrupt enemy front lines alone. (Target: Eylia Vulcan, the Muscle).

2. Magic Sniper/Area Denial: Someone who can control the map with long-range magic. (Target: Sylvia de Frosheim, the Ice Queen).

3. Wild Card/Assassin: Someone who can kill high-priority targets. (Target: Lukas Bright or... Luna?).

Persuade them? Impossible. They hate me.
Unless...
Unless I give them something they desperately want.

The club door opened again.
This time not an angry student.
A girl in pristine white nun robes poked her head inside. Her green eyes sparkled when she saw me sitting in the Captain's chair.

Aerith. Why is she everywhere?!

"Amon!" she called cheerfully, walking in without caring about the respectful gazes of other students. "I saw you playing from the window earlier! A 'sacrificial' tactic that was... touching! You were willing to sacrifice soldiers for the greater good!"

Huh? No, I sacrificed them because they were cheap.

"Amon, I want to join this club!" Aerith exclaimed excitedly. "I want to learn to lead the army of light with you!"

The system in my head buzzed.

[WARNING]
[New Potential Member: Saintess Aerith]
[Skill: Divine Bless (Infinite Troop Morale), Resurrection (Revive dead unit 1x)]
[Drawback: Her troops cannot attack first (Pacifist Mode).]

Ouch. This girl is too OP but simultaneously nerfed.

But then, a crazy idea—an idea typical of Amon the Gamer—appeared.

"Aerith," I smiled 'sincerely' (potion mode still active for another 20 hours). "Of course. But... we need a full team. Can you help me persuade the other 'Lost Lambs'?"

If the Saintess asked, no one could refuse.
I would use this Holy Girl as my recruitment poster.

"This Strategy Club is going to turn into a Zoo very soon," I thought, preparing mandatory summons letters for my 'rivals'.