Chapter 35

Q. What should we do when our base is under enemy attack?

A. First, evacuate to a safe nearby rally point. Then, reorganize the troops and assess the damage.

Q. What should we do if our base is overrun and the enemy is right at our doorstep?

A. Hold your ground as much as possible while waiting for orders from higher command. If the situation is unfavorable, act on your own judgment.

These questions are as basic as it gets in war. Whether in the past or present, fantasy or reality, military common sense remains the same.

Civilians might just run away, but soldiers are different. Why? Because they fight for their country. It’s their duty to face and respond to any threat.

From this perspective, the Imperial Western Front Army was clearly elite.

“The barracks are about to burn down! Everyone, climb over the fence and retreat to a safe area away from the fire!”

“33rd Brigade, assemble! Form up by battalion and prepare for combat! The enemy is coming soon!”

“All artillery, return to your batteries immediately! Secure fire support first! Without cannons, we’re finished!”

An unprecedented situation where the land and fortress were suddenly engulfed in flames.

The surging flames turned the field’s vegetation into ash, swallowing the defensive lines that had taken days to build. All the structures painstakingly made by weaving wood and hammering nails collapsed like campfires.

Yet, amidst this chaos, the Imperial soldiers showed remarkably rational responses.

Though communication between units was cut off by the fire, each did their best within their means. They distributed weapons and gunpowder, and as soon as they were ready, they left the defensive lines to form positions.

They struggled to restore combat strength, not even knowing how many had survived.

“Can we send a messenger to the Legion Headquarters? Or to the Western Front Headquarters?”

“It’s difficult. The fire has destroyed many bridges and underground passages… We’re not even sure if they’re still intact.”

“Damn it. How can we win if we can’t receive or send orders?”

“We just have to hold on. We can’t just give up and run away.”

Though limited by realistic circumstances, their efforts were commendable.

The soldiers, who had only been on guard and not in combat readiness, were prepared to fight within tens of minutes.

However, unfortunately, expressions like “best effort” hold no more value than excuses in actual combat.

“Wow, the Royal Army is approaching! It seems they’ve brought all the troops from their main base!!”

“The end of their formation isn’t visible!! From the west to the east, all I see are Royal Army flags!!”

The advance of the Western Army, now under the command of Karolus von Roytel.

Combining the dispatched Central Army with existing forces, a massive army of 140,000 pressed the Imperial Forces. Dozens of military banners and war cries covered the field.

They approached with the intent to crush the now-defunct defensive lines under their boots.

With tens of thousands of muskets and artillery pieces in the four-digit range, could a scattered, uncoordinated army resist such a force?

Well, if that were possible, armies wouldn’t exist in the first place.

–Ratatatat!! Ratatat!!

“Ugh?!”

“Get into the trenches! If they bring their firepower, we’re done for! Hide and avoid the damage!!”

A battle starting from an overwhelmingly advantageous position. The Royal Army, deploying musketeers upfront and creating a barrage of fire, crushed the Imperial Forces like autumn leaves.

Like mosquitoes before a swatter. Like civilians in a city being plundered by bandits. It was a one-sided massacre.

The desperate shots fired as a last resort killed a few in the front, but that was all. Like pigs in a slaughterhouse, they were butchered one after another.

The balance of the front, which had lasted for ten years, collapsed in an instant.

The army that once pushed the kingdom to the old fortress region was now staining their own front yard with blood and flesh, perishing valiantly.

“Cavalry! The cavalry is charging!”

“Those reckless bastards. Doing something so foolish in this situation…”

The light cavalry, with their high mobility and remaining strength, charged towards the enemy lines. Specifically, aiming for Karolus’s central command.

They thought it would be easy to break through with just a few lines of riflemen and no spearmen.

Of course, the outcome was a lesson in why you don’t compose a unit solely of riflemen.

“Damn it. I couldn’t even swing my sword once and now…”

The Thin Red Line. A long, thin line of infantry, functioning as a tactical formation.

The elite soldiers, thoroughly trained, stood their ground and unleashed a relentless barrage of bullets. The rapid fire from the long line was almost like a machine gun.

To put it simply… it easily blocked the cavalry’s approach. No need for anti-cavalry formations.

“It’s over. The tide has completely turned.”

The Imperial Forces, with their last card blocked, had no remaining means.

Twenty minutes later, a large white flag was raised over the Imperial Army’s headquarters.

* * * * *

“Negotiate a truce?”

Three hours into the battle, just as I was feeling good about finally winning, a messenger ran up with an absurd proposal.

“Did I hear wrong? Did you mistakenly say surrender request?”

“No. General Leclerc wishes to discuss a temporary halt to the fighting with General Karolus.”

“Hah.”

I sighed in disbelief. The subordinates beside me, feeling similarly, looked at the messenger with disdain or shook their heads.

These Imperial bastards still haven’t come to their senses. Do they think we’re on equal footing now?

Negotiation is an act that requires mutual respect. Not when the winner and loser are clearly decided.

“Does your commander lack a sense of reality, or is he in denial? What reason do we have to accept such a proposal in this situation?”

“There is a reason. Because we can still resist.”

The messenger, under the pressure of our officers, confidently raised his head and spoke.

“The Imperial Army is numerous. Over 160,000. Though we suffered heavy losses from the surprise attack, we still have considerable strength left.”

“Even so, if we attack again, it’s over.”

“There’s no law saying we must respond to your attacks. Since the rear is all our territory, retreating is also a viable option, isn’t it?”

…Tsk. That’s a valid point. No matter how successful the fire attack was, its effects are limited.

It’s hard to annihilate them like in a comic. Even if we hit them hard, about a third would likely escape alive.

A third of 160,000 is about 50,000. A number not to be ignored.

They surely have a secondary defensive line in the rear. Not hastily made like here, but properly constructed fortresses and trenches.

‘If those bastards escape, it’s over.’

Regrettably, the current kingdom lacks the strength to push that far.

The only way to attack a well-built defensive structure is through conventional siege warfare. But proper sieges consume a lot of money and time.

Lieutenant General Liebert messed up, and we spent too much money and manpower recovering. Originally, it would have been manageable, but after a long war, the kingdom’s strength isn’t what it used to be.

In the end, the Imperial remnants escaping and reorganizing is almost a given.

Whether to accept it willingly or after shedding more blood and suffering, that’s the choice I have left.

“…Alright. I’ll agree to negotiations.”

“A wise decision. I’ll inform His Excellency immediately.”

Finally, as I gave in, the messenger happily returned to their camp.

And about an hour later, the enemy commander finally appeared, with a small, shabby escort.

“Pleased to meet you, General Roytel. I am Sebastian de Leclerc, Commander of the Imperial Western Front.”

“I am Karolus von Roytel, Commander of the Royal Central Army.”

Meeting in the middle of the battlefield to prevent leaks, we introduced ourselves and got straight to the point.

“Let me be blunt. Guarantee our safe retreat. And a three-year ceasefire.”

“The former might be possible, but the latter is beyond my authority. What do we gain?”

“I swear not to set foot on your kingdom’s land for three years. And we’ll hand over all our current supplies and intact fortresses.”

“What if I refuse? It seems easier to resolve this by force. After all, you’re the hateful invaders who trampled our kingdom.”

“Then we’ll have no choice but to fight dirty. If you want to see the surviving Imperial soldiers become guerrillas and burn your farmlands, go ahead.”

How despicably underhanded. For regular troops to resort to irregular warfare is to ignore all rules. Are they willing to risk post-war retaliation out of spite?

While cursing internally, Leclerc’s next words left me momentarily stunned.

“Wasn’t it your kingdom that provoked this war? After insulting and humiliating our Imperial family, don’t act like the sole victim.”

“…What?”

“Huh? Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”

What, what are you talking about? The kingdom caused the war?