"What the... what kind of formation is that?"

Roger frowned. The adjutant standing right beside him, observing the situation, avoided his gaze and stammered a response.

"It seems to be... a dense pike formation."

"Do you think I'm asking because I don't know that?"

Roger shot his adjutant a sharp glare. The adjutant pressed his lips together and hung his head low. Roger clicked his tongue and looked back down at the battlefield where both armies were slowly closing the distance.

"What kind of nerve do they have...?"

Of course, he had already heard rumors through his spies that the Roman army had begun training large numbers of pikemen. He had even personally witnessed Genoese ships loaded with mountains of sturdy wood for pike shafts heading toward Constantinople.

"Is the Empire trying to return to the past?"

But even taking that into account, the Roman formation was far too classical.

After all, wasn't it the Romans themselves who had signaled the end of Greek-style dense pike formations by defeating the Macedonian phalanx at the Battle of Pydna long ago? As Roger watched the massive Roman pike formation slowly advancing, a smile anticipating victory appeared on his lips.

"Divide the troops in two! Have two units attack one of the enemy's square formations from both sides!"

Roger continued issuing orders.

"Never engage the enemy head-on! One unit should maintain an appropriate distance to hold the enemy's attention, while the other unit should maneuver quickly to target their flanks and rear!"

The age of pikemen had set thirteen hundred years ago. No matter how much time had passed, that dense forest of spearheads could not be broken through from the front. Even the sturdiest armor couldn't withstand the fierce assault of pikes thrusting in three or four layers deep.

"Crossbowmen should approach as close as possible to support our troops! Wear down the enemy's strength from a distance!"

But the chronic weaknesses of pikemen—vulnerability to ranged attacks and extreme difficulty in changing direction—also remained unchanged despite the passage of time.

The principle that [the key to defeating a pike formation is to avoid a frontal confrontation] was still valid even after thirteen hundred years.

"Yes, Your Excellency!"

Messengers quickly rode off to deliver the tactical orders. Roger then turned to Henri.

"You'll command the engineering corps. Don't spare any ammunition—have the catapults directly strike the center of the enemy's dense formation."

"Shouldn't we target their archers?"

"Our cavalry will handle their archers. Besides, the Roman horses are likely not in normal condition after their long voyage."

Horses are extremely sensitive animals. After long-distance sea transport, it wasn't uncommon for them to lose a quarter of their body weight.

No matter how renowned the Roman medium cavalry might be, they couldn't properly execute cavalry tactics with exhausted horses. It was clear their cavalry operations would be extremely limited and defensive.

"So we're using Rome's specialty—mobile warfare—against them."

"That's right. Though it seems these Romans have completely abandoned mobile warfare altogether."

Despite the Roman army's recent momentum, their main theater had been the dry highlands of the Levant and Anatolia. Suddenly, it occurred to Roger that perhaps the reason they were being so defensive was because they weren't familiar with the terrain.

'Have they forgotten not only Latin, but also how to fight in Italy?'

A mocking smile briefly twisted Roger's lips. At the same time, a strong conviction was growing in his mind that he would certainly achieve victory in this battle.

※※

"How is Special Week doing?"

"Very well. I've never seen him in such good condition after a long voyage."

Nikephoros smiled contentedly as he gently stroked Special Week's neck. I also approached and patted the horse's head. Special Week snorted happily, blowing air through his nostrils.

"That's good. I was a bit worried I might have wasted money for nothing."

"Not at all. He looked completely comfortable on the ship, as if he were in his own stable."

Nikephoros suddenly asked with curiosity:

"By the way, where did you get the inspiration for a horse transport ship? The Empire never had vessels of that type."

"I didn't get it from anywhere. I just designed it myself, considering horses' habits."

"You designed it yourself, Princess?"

"Yes. What do you think I was doing while lounging around at home for the past year? I spent my time coming up with things like that."

Besides, horse management and long-distance transport techniques were fields I'd been interested in even when I was "me" before.

The reason for that was obviously...

'Ah, I miss Uma Musume.'

Because of "that game," I used to watch actual horse racing broadcasts too. Even the racetracks that are now one of the Anna Group's main sources of income were reconstructed based on 21st century horse racing knowledge I acquired back then.

"Princess, there truly isn't anything you can't do."

Nikephoros opened his eyes wide, seemingly genuinely impressed.

"That's nothing new."

I giggled and shrugged my shoulders. Then, ahem, I cleared my throat and approached Nikephoros.

"Anyway, it's about time we set out. Are you clear on the strategy?"

"Of course."

Nikephoros nodded, removed his gauntlet, and cupped my cheek.

"Then I'll be off. Please take care of yourself, Princess."

"You're the one who needs to be careful. Don't worry about me. Those ignorant Viking brutes won't be able to put a single scratch on our tercio."

There was no defense against a tercio they'd never seen before. Even Alexios, one of Eastern Rome's top-tier generals, was utterly destroyed when I first deployed the tercio. (And this guy in front of me nearly died too.)

I took a step forward and stood on my tiptoes, and Nikephoros smiled gently as he bent down. Our lips met briefly with a soft kiss before he straightened up.

"If you get hurt again, I really won't let it slide."

"Haha. Yes. I'll keep that in mind and be as careful as possible."

Nikephoros mounted Special Week without hesitation. I quickly approached and handed him the helmet that an adjutant was holding. After putting on his helmet, Nikephoros pulled the reins and rode away from me without looking back.

'I hope the other horses are in good condition too.'

No matter how strong war horses might be, the weight of a rider in plate armor plus horse armor is beyond imagination.

Although we transported them carefully using specially designed ships, the actual condition of the horses was still unknown. Moreover, since they needed to penetrate deep into enemy lines to counter their catapults this time, the horses' stamina was more important than ever.

'...It'll be fine. After all, who designed those transport ships?'

It would be a lie to say I wasn't worried, but I decided to shake off those concerns. Even if the horses weren't in perfect condition, Nikephoros would manage well enough.

"Haakon!"

Choosing to trust my husband as always, I walked toward Haakon, who was talking with his adjutants in the distance. Haakon immediately turned to me and bowed his head.

"Yes, Princess."

"Let's start moving too. Follow me."

The commander-in-chief's position was always on high ground with a view of the entire battlefield. On flat ground, it would be impossible to properly monitor our troops' movements.

"Yes, yes."

Haakon nodded halfheartedly while whistling. Soon his black horse plodded over from the other side.

"Would you like a ride?"

Haakon asked, holding the reins of his black horse.

I was about to answer "Sure," but suddenly remembered Nikephoros's annoying expression from yesterday and kept my mouth shut.

"No, I'll ride my own horse today."

If Nikephoros happened to see this, he would definitely grumble something like "Of course I'm not upset, but..."

I called out to Gregorios, who immediately approached with my horse, Almond Eye. Haakon, who had somehow appeared behind me, lightly lifted me onto the saddle.

"Has your riding skill deteriorated in the meantime?"

"I was always good at riding, you know?"

I put my foot in the stirrup and stroked the horse's mane.

"Hurry up and mount your horse. We don't have time."

"Wasn't it the Princess who delayed us with her farewell to His Excellency...?"

Haakon sighed and lightly mounted his black horse.

"Then let's depart immediately."

Haakon began trotting ahead, and I followed right behind him. Our destination was a small hill about 1 kilometer to the right of our main force.

"Good, this is high enough to see clearly."

We reached the hilltop without difficulty. The road was well-maintained, probably because we were near the city.

Standing on a large rock and looking down at the battlefield, I could see the enemy and our forces had approached to about 400 meters... about 2 stadia apart.

Haakon quietly approached my side and asked:

"You increased the ratio of crossbowmen in the formation this time, right?"

"That's right. The Normans are well-armed."

The Kebab forces still retained many remnants from their nomadic days. While the Sultan's personal cavalry guard was equipped with heavy armor comparable to the kataphraktoi, most of their regular soldiers were lightly armored, as if neighbor shepherd Muhammad had joined the battle with his hunting bow.

In contrast, most of the Norman soldiers, except for conscripts recruited to fill numbers, were wearing fairly decent armor. Sicily was one of the wealthiest lands in Europe, a country with enough resources for the government to directly supply armor.

"Those guys aren't fools—they won't charge head-on into our pike formation. They'll definitely split left and right to try to surround our tercio from both sides."

I turned to Haakon with a smirk.

"And when they try to charge after flanking our forces... whoosh! They'll be welcomed by crossbow firepower twice as heavy as usual. Those who charge recklessly, trusting only in their armor's protection, will be shattered by direct crossbow fire."

Once we broke the enemy's initial charge momentum, the battle would be as good as over. The confused enemies would gradually suffocate among our grid-patterned formations.

"Indeed. You intend to completely break their momentum from the very beginning."

Haakon nodded and watched the battlefield.

"Correct."

I also nodded and looked back down at the battlefield.

And as I predicted, the Norman army soon began to split left and right, showing movements to surround the tercio.