Victor did not wait to use his commander summons and plunged right into using the first Medium-Level Commander Summon.
A yellow mist enshrouded the screen, keeping the approaching silhouette unrecognisable. He was tall but worn, his posture straight despite the weight of years resting on his shoulders. His uniform was deep blue, trimmed in gold. It was definitely a French Marshal's uniform.
Given that it was a yellow mist, Victor did not get ahead of himself. The person was most likely going to be a Marshal who was only appointed for political reasons.
His face carries the sharpness of a blade left too long in service; thin cheeks, a long, narrow nose, and a jaw that seems carved rather than grown. Age had not softened him; it had only deepened the lines around his mouth and eyes, hollowing them into something stern, dignified, unyielding. His hair was white as winter frost, tied back neatly.
His eyes were cold, steady, grey like storm clouds over the Alps. They did not shift, nor did they dart; they judged. They measured. There was no smile. No flourish. No dramatic gesture. Just a weathered man staring at Victor through the screen.
"I could not have asked for a better summon," Victor muttered, watching the animation end.
When the animation had finished, the screen read, 'Marshal Jean-Mathieu Sérurier' with 3 stars next to his name. Victor smiled. He had gotten a veteran commander who had fought in the Revolutionary Wars.
Marshal Jean-Mathieu Sérurier was a man with the moniker, "le soldat vertueux." The Virtuous Soldier. If anyone had to teach cadets military ethics and officer conduct, it would be Marshal Serurier. Additionally, he could teach Logistics, Order, and Administrative Command, as well as give an insight into Senior Command Principles.
With the addition of Marshal Serurier, Victor now wanted commanders who would prove to be capable in battle. There were a handful of commanders that Victor could want, some of whom were certainly five-star commanders, but without obsessing over it, Victor jumped into the next summon.
The next summon was a 4-star General. He was a powerful, thick-set man, built less like a court officer and more like a front-line soldier who had survived every season the world had thrown at him.
His greatcoat, dark green and heavy with frost at the edges. The gold braid at his collar is tarnished, dulled by rain, sleet, and the grime of forced marches.
His face is square and severe, dominated by a strong brow and a bristling moustache that hides the hard line of his mouth. The years have carved trenches into his cheeks; not the soft lines of age, but the deep, permanent marks left by gunpowder flashes, sleepless nights, and too many burial details. A thin scar cuts across his right temple, disappearing into the grey streaks of his hair.
His eyes are the most striking: pale, icy blue, the kind that seem to look straight past obstacles, excuses, and men alike. They burned with a fierce, stubborn resolve—unyielding, distinctly Russian.
When the animation had finished, the screen read, 'General Nikolai Alexeyevich Tuchkov,' with 4 stars next to his name.
Victor had heard of General Tuchkov before. He was a senior Russian commander who gained renown for his efforts as he commanded the 3rd Infantry Corps and held the critically exposed left flank of the Russian army during the bloody Battle of Borodino.
Consequently, this would be the same battle that claimed his life. He was remembered as one of the more dependable and steady Russian generals, not brilliant but extremely tough. Tuchkov was physically imposing, with a reputation for leading from the front, hence earning such praise.
The addition of Tuchkov made the newly formed 16th Corps a force to be reckoned with.
For the last Medium-Level Commander Summon, an orange smoke appeared on the screen. A tall figure steps through the haze, emerging with the slow, controlled precision of a man who has lived his entire life under the weight of discipline.
His silhouette is long and lean, wrapped in the deep blue of a Prussian Field Marshal's coat, the gold embroidery catching brief flashes of light as he moves. The tails of his coat sway sharply with each step, as if obeying some silent drill command.
His face appears next; narrow, aristocratic, carved with age but untouched by uncertainty. High cheekbones, a pointed nose, and a jaw set with the cold composure of someone who has never allowed emotion to dictate action. His powdered hair, tied neatly at the back, completes the image of a man forged in the era of Frederick the Great.
His eyes are the most striking: pale, steady, unreadable. They do not warm; they measure. They judge the battlefield as if it were an inspection lineup. He carries himself as a man born to command, not through fire and fury but through iron hierarchy and unbending order.
As the animation concluded, the screen read, 'Field Marshal Friedrich Adolf Graf von Kalckreuth' with 4 stars next to his name.
As 4 star Generals go, Victor was a little disappointed. Field Marshal Kalckreuth was a veteran commander; there was no denying his lengthy military career, but he was accustomed to an older, rigid style of warfare. He was also known to be disorganised, and in the Battle of Jena, he could not clearly coordinate with other Generals.
Kalckreuth was promoted to the lofty title of Field Marshal after a lengthy career in the Prussian military, not on actual merit. This put Victor into a tricky position; he did not want to buy another commander summon, but Kalckreuth did not fit the style of warfare that Victor and his Army had developed.
As a result of this, Victor had another role better suited to the old-fashioned Field Marshal. He would join Marshal Serurier as a teacher in the military academy. His new role would be in the Department of Discipline, Drill, and Organisation: Teaching cadets the fundamentals of a professional army.
Victor needed to buy another commander summon, and for good measure, he bought a Legendary-Level Commander Summon for 100,000 Store Points, bringing his total down to 300,000.
All that Victor had to do was pull two 5-star Generals.