Alvarez paused briefly, then deliberately drawled a supplement.
The mockery in his tone was undisguised.
"Perhaps we should blame that Qin Bei Wang of the Federation. Blame his command capabilities for being too strong and his methods too ruthless. It's his fault for beating our Empire's fleet into a sorry state..."
These words were laced with obvious sarcasm, instantly hitting the funny bone of the Marshals present.
The conference room erupted in loud laughter.
Some laughed while slapping the table, others whispered jokes; no one cared about Reinhardt's expression.
Reinhardt looked at the scene before him.
His lips were tight, and anger surged in his heart. However, he knew that continuing to argue would only increase the humiliation.
He simply didn't bother to refute.
Taking a deep breath, he suppressed his displeasure and looked up at Alvarez.
He asked back in a cold tone, "Since you feel Strauss is unworthy, do you have a better candidate to recommend?"
As his voice fell, the laughter gradually subsided.
Everyone's gaze focused on Alvarez again, waiting for his answer.
Alvarez exchanged a knowing glance with De Bourbon. The calculations in their eyes were clearly visible.
Alvarez raised his hand and gave a deep command to the communication ring on his wrist.
"Come in!"
The heavy alloy hatch slid open silently, and a tall figure stepped slowly inside.
The newcomer wore a meticulous slicked-back hairstyle. His crisp black military uniform accentuated his broad shoulders, and his stride was steady and powerful.
He came to a halt directly in front of the conference table and gave the assembly a standard Imperial military salute.
The movement was clean and efficient, without a single wasted gesture.
"I am Auguste Lafarge."
His voice was loud and resonant, possessing the characteristic clangor of a soldier.
"A student of the 1500th class of the Imperial Starsea Academy Captain Command Department. I graduated first in my class. Subsequently, in the National University Tactical Simulation Competition, I achieved a perfect victory record with a score of 10,698 points, setting the highest historical record on the Tactical Simulation Competition leaderboard since the academy's founding!"
At first, there were whispers in the conference room.
When many heard the name "Lafarge"—a name not belonging to a Count's family—a flicker of disdain crossed their faces simultaneously, their contempt undisguised.
In the Empire's aristocratic system, soldiers not born into Count families were inevitably looked down upon by these Marshals, regardless of how high their rank might be.
But when Lafarge announced his academy record—especially the part about "breaking a five-hundred-year historical record"—all the contempt instantly froze on their faces.
Some instinctively looked up at the light screen.
The Starsea Academy's simulation leaderboard was automatically called up. The red record that had remained unchanged for five hundred years was overwritten by a new number, and the "Perfect Victory" label was particularly striking.
The expressions of the crowd turned solemn.
The whispering ceased abruptly.
No one dared to underestimate this officer of minor noble origin standing before them.
Alvarez chuckled.
He turned his gaze toward Reinhardt, his provocation undisguised.
"Well, Marshal Reinhardt, the person I chose is quite good, isn't he? Far more capable than that fellow Strauss, who couldn't make a name for himself in the military academy. If Lafarge had been in charge of the Opal Sector War Zone, I fear the Federation wouldn't have even had the chance to approach the Savannah Star System, let alone capture four star systems. Perhaps the Ten Stone Starfield would already be in our pocket!"
These words instantly ignited the desire for the others to chime in.
A wave of agreement immediately echoed through the conference room.
"Over ten thousand simulation points... I remember the previous record was only a bit over eight thousand. This kid's tactical simulation ability is terrifying; he can definitely beat that Qin Bei Wang of the Federation!" one Marshal exclaimed, his tone full of anticipation.
Another followed immediately, "This is a command genius that appears once in five hundred years. The Ferry Empire is truly blessed!"
Some even took the opportunity to slander Strauss.
"Someone like Strauss, who climbed up based on seniority, should have been phased out long ago. I heard that back when he was in the military academy, his grades were a disaster; he couldn't even pass the tactical simulation courses!"
Listening to the wanton slander against Strauss and the excessive praise for Lafarge, Reinhardt shook his head helplessly.
Over the years, he had personally reviewed the victory reports and officer resumes from all over the Empire, yet he had never heard the name Auguste Lafarge.
Most likely, he had been hidden away by Alvarez or the Bourbon family after graduation, racking up scores in simulation halls without ever stepping onto a real battlefield.
Yet these noble Marshals would rather trust a rookie with zero combat experience than acknowledge a veteran who had been tempered by war and earned countless military merits.
How absurd.
Reinhardt sighed, his voice full of helplessness.
"I hope that on a real battlefield, he can perform as bravely as he did in the simulation competition."
He paused, as if suddenly remembering something, and added:
"In the ancient era of cold weapons, there was a general in the East... let me think... oh, Zhao Kuo!"
Alvarez immediately seized the opportunity to mock him.
"We are in the era of starships, giant cannons, and interstellar warfare. Why bring up ancient people from the cold weapon era? Could it be that Marshal Reinhardt is so desperate because his recommended veteran was ousted that he's started talking nonsense?"
Hearing this, the crowd burst into laughter again, their eyes full of mockery for Reinhardt.
However, Reinhardt smiled faintly, completely unaffected.
Then, he spoke slowly.
"It is not nonsense. Do you know what idiom comes to mind when I mention Zhao Kuo?"
This instantly piqued everyone's curiosity.
The previously noisy conference room gradually fell silent. Everyone looked at him curiously, though no one took the initiative to ask.
Reinhardt did not linger and explained directly.
"This idiom is called 'Armchair Strategizing'."
Faced with the sudden mention of "Armchair Strategizing," everyone in the conference room was bewildered. Many frowned and discussed in low voices.
Clearly, they had never heard of this ancient idiom, nor did they understand its deeper meaning.
Seeing their confused expressions, Reinhardt chuckled and explained slowly.
"The situation back then was remarkably similar to now. The State of Zhao removed a battle-hardened veteran and replaced him with a general who only knew how to simulate tactics on paper and had never been to a battlefield. As a result, the State of Zhao suffered a crushing defeat, losing over four hundred thousand soldiers!"
His words were pointed. His gaze swept over Alvarez and Lafarge, the warning in his tone more obvious than ever.
Just as he finished speaking, a firm voice suddenly rang out, breaking the silence of the room.
"That won't happen! The Empire will never lose again! Under my leadership, we will definitely repel the Federation and recover the lost territories!"
Everyone looked toward the source of the voice; it was Lafarge standing to the side.
At this moment, his chest was puffed out, one hand slapping his breast, his eyes staring firmly at Reinhardt.
His face was full of a refusal to lose.
He was completely unaware that he was merely a rookie with no background and no military merit, nor did he realize how inappropriate it was for him to interrupt.