GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Vol 2 - Chapter 20.1: Inheritance

Mira's Royal units executed her flanking maneuver, cavalry charging from the west while infantry pressed from the center, giving the enemy no time to establish a defensive line.

The enemy forces collapsed under the unexpected and multifaceted attack. The royal army they faced had no answer for three different factions working in perfect harmony. What might have been a challenging battle became an overwhelming victory.

Vel kept his expression neutral despite their success, though his pulse raced with the thrill of victory. He glanced sideways at his teammates, noting with approval that they too maintained composed expressions even as their triumph became clear.

From the corner of his eye, Vel noticed a nearby student slamming his fist against his table in frustration. A young noble with an elaborate family crest on his collar was red-faced, shouting at his teammates while gesturing accusingly.

"Well done," Vel whispered to Mira and Tomas as the magical simulation began to fade from the war table. "Perfect execution."

Rather than joining the students who immediately stood to leave, he motioned for Tomas and Mira to remain seated.

"Let's stay here a bit," he suggested quietly. "They might be looking to see who they were fighting against."

Sure enough, several students from neighboring tables cast curious glances toward their group, clearly wondering who had so thoroughly dismantled their strategies. The red-faced noble who had been shouting moments ago now scanned the room with narrowed eyes, likely trying to identify his opponents.

Nearby, Instructor Lyvenna moved between tables, making notes on her parchment. Her expression revealed nothing as her quill scratched across the surface, but Vel noticed how her gaze lingered on their table slightly longer than the others.

As they stood in composed silence, Vel turned to Tomas, genuinely impressed by his tactical spellcasting.

"The casting formation from the church mages...," he said. "How did you know about that?"

Tomas brightened at the recognition, though he kept his voice low. "I researched about it before coming here. The mage scholars mentioned it in their study about collaborative casting. When spells are cast in a correct formation, it enhances the spell to a certain degree."

"It's similar to the ritual of Shaman," Vel realized, remembering what he'd learned from Kazar back in Oakhaven. "Co-casting, where multiple casters can amplify a spell's power when positioned properly."

"Exactly!" Tomas nodded enthusiastically. "It's not just about having more mages—it's about their specific arrangement relative to each other and the target. The Church forces naturally lend themselves to this kind of formation."

"That's why the damage output was so much higher than expected," Mira added, understanding dawning in her eyes. "The spell's effect multiplied rather than just added."

Vel nodded at Tomas, an appreciative smile crossing his face. "See? You don't need the right attunement to use those techniques."

He turned to Mira, equally impressed. "Your decision making was excellent too. You adapted to the situation and moved the troops accordingly in the heat of battle."

Mira's fingers traced absent patterns on the now-empty war table. "For simulation maybe," she said quietly. "In a real battle, I would have frozen or worse, panicked."

Her words hit Vel with unexpected force. He fell silent, his previous enthusiasm draining away as her statement echoed in his mind.

A real battle. Not a simulation.

The image of those scattered enemy soldiers flashed through his memory—how they'd staggered away from the blast zone, visibly confused and panicked. In the heat of battle, his order had been swift and merciless: "Focus fire on the survivors!" He hadn't hesitated. Hadn't thought twice about eliminating the disoriented troops.

But if those had been real soldiers...

The memory of Oakhaven flooded back—the screams, the blood, the desperate faces of villagers fleeing for their lives. The Alpha Wulfangs tearing through guards like paper. The knowledge that some of those deaths could have been prevented if he'd acted differently.

He had once viewed this world as exactly that—a simulation, a game where characters followed scripts and player decisions had limited consequences. Where death meant respawning. Where loss was temporary.

Now it was the world he lived in. People's lives were at stake. His family. His friends. Celia.

Vel's hand trembled slightly as he traced the stone table.

In a real battle, would he have that same cold tactical clarity? Or would the weight of each life paralyze him when it mattered most?

"Vel?" Tomas's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

Vel blinked, realizing he had been staring blankly at the war table. "Yeah," he said, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about how to improve our strategy for next time."

But as other tables finished their battles, Vel couldn't shake the weight that had settled in his chest. The line between simulation and reality had blurred for him in a way few others could understand. The strategies he employed so casually here would determine life or death out there.

And he wasn't sure if he was ready for that responsibility.