novelraw Chapter 149: Krafte War - Overwhelming Force (1)
Chapter 149: Krafte War - Overwhelming Force (1)
Nancy, the capital of Lorraine, Eastern Francia.
I quickened my pace, massaging my temples.
The faces of the humans who had boasted they were self-sufficient were quite a sight to behold.
Thanks to them, the capital armory burned spectacularly, and at least 50% of the equipment for the 30,000 reserve troops to be trained in the capital was lost.
What? We can’t enlist the aid of the navy or a mere merchant guild for army matters because of a threat that might or might not exist?
Together with Christine, I turned the entirety of the military's capital facilities, which had belatedly become cooperative, upside down, discovering several enemy spies.
But it was unlikely that all the spies who had infiltrated were found just by doing this.
It was truly exhausting, only endless sighs escaped me.
Dragging my weary body, I entered the Revolutionary Army headquarters located in Nancy.
“Welcome, Your Excellency, Marquis Lafayette!”All the commanders, including Louis Desaix, Commander of the Northern Army, and Damien De Millbeau, Commander of the Southern Army, were gathered.
They all seemed to have sensed that my mood would not be good due to the security reinforcement order I had issued, and they were all on high alert.
“Has everyone checked their units?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Of course, Your Excellency the Marquis—”
Damien, who was about to speak at length, flinched and shut his mouth.
…Alright, at least they can read the room.
I let out a small sigh and went to my seat.
“Let's begin.”
“Yes, Your Excellency the Marquis!”
The Revolutionary Army Chief of Staff, Alexandre Berthier, stepped forward.
“The Krafte Army is currently advancing in three divisions.”
Well, as expected, 200,000 is quite a large force to move as a single unit.
Aside from the difficulty in deploying to the front line, the concentration of a large force creates various problems, especially with supply.
Since we had also divided our army into several parts, I had anticipated this…
“The army commanded by Prince Heinrich numbers 60,000, referred to as the Southern Army. The army commanded by General Gerhardt also numbers 60,000, called the Northern Army. Finally, the remaining 80,000…”
“The Central Army, commanded by the Great King himself, I presume.”
“That is correct, Your Excellency the Marquis.”
“So, what is the expected offensive? I assume the commanders who gathered in advance have discussed this sufficiently.”
Berthier, Desaix, and Millbeau looked at each other, nodded, and said in unison.
“The main attack will be on Lorraine.”
“Hmm.”
“They have a large force, and given they’ve divided their army into three instead of two, their intention could be to simultaneously pressure Metz and the Moselle Plains, and if necessary, even press the Verdun fortress by passing through the forest.”
It would certainly seem so if one thought conventionally, but then, the engagement would effectively take place on the same battlefield chosen by Grand Duke Leopold of the Germania Empire.
The problem is whether that Great King is an individual predictable within such a conventional framework. Of course, the border between Francia and the Empire is narrow, which limits the attack routes…
I looked at Damien De Millbeau and asked.
“Southern region, are the preparations for the Alsace defense line sufficient? We must assume the enemy's main attack could be concentrated there.”
Based on the name the enemy has given it, it is presumed Damien will face Prince Heinrich’s Southern Army…
Damien, perhaps thinking that at least he wouldn't be facing the Great King, replied confidently.
“Of course, Your Excellency the Marquis! Alsace will be defended along the Rhine River, and unlike the hastily constructed line during the war with the Germania Empire, we will defend it like an iron wall with the thoroughly prepared ‘Millbeau Line’!”
…My face soured involuntarily.
It seemed I wasn't the only one, as many generals had reluctant expressions.
What kind of man confidently names a defense line after himself…
I looked at Damien with a troubled face.
Can I really trust this man and leave this to him?
True, the tactic of digging trenches and defending along the river had worked quite well in the war against the Empire, hadn't it…?
“I say this out of caution, but the enemy is the Krafte Army, not the Imperial Army. Do not let your guard down for a moment and make all preparations.”
“There’s no question, Your Excellency, Marquis Lafayette! Please trust me, Damien De Millbeau, the ‘Master of Defense’!”
I narrowed my eyes and looked at Damien, who shamelessly said such things.
…To think that I trusted a bastard like him and entrusted Louis, whom Christine cherishes, to him. I’m already having second thoughts.
Surprisingly, Christine had agreed.
Not because she held him in high regard, but because ‘no matter what happens, he would probably try to save Louis’s life and his own.’
I let out a small sigh and opened my mouth.
“Alright, then. We will draw up a defensive plan on the assumption that the Great King and his main force will be concentrated on Lorraine, and prepare to reinforce Alsace quickly in case the main attack shifts there.”
Right. Still, the effectiveness of that trench line has been proven somewhat, and although the man himself is somewhat unreliable, Damien's defensive battle record is excellent.
Even if the offensive concentrated on Alsace, Damien would probably hold out until reinforcements arrived.
*
And a few days later, at dawn.
The Alsace front, just as day was dimly breaking.
The 'Millbeau Line,' ambitiously prepared by Damien De Millbeau.
The Revolutionary Army soldier on watch, yawning, could not hide his astonishment at the group approaching through the fog.
“Wh-what, what is that!”
“H-huh! Enemy attack! Enemy attack!”
Urgent shouts echoed, and the soundly sleeping soldiers scrambled to their feet, seeing a wave of black uniforms cover the horizon and draw closer.
“What, what the, the Chasseurs said there was no one nearby just yesterday afternoon!”
Next to a bewildered Damien De Millbeau, Giselle Davi, who had also rushed over, spoke.
“It seems they kept their distance and marched through the night.”
“Are you crazy? A force of that size marched without their ranks breaking and now they're going to continue with a river-crossing battle? Is that even possible?”
Giselle Davi looked through a telescope at the Krafte Army, approaching mechanically from across the river with no signs of fatigue, then muttered in a low voice.
“…It seems the Krafte Army can.”
“Hmph, whatever! The Millbeau Line is solid! If we take cover and defend along the river, we can certainly stop them—”
Before Damien could finish speaking, the sound of cannon fire roared.
“Everyone, take cover in the trenches! Let those idiots waste their cannonballs!”
The Revolutionary Army soldiers naturally hid in the trenches, expecting the cannonballs to pass over their heads.
However.
Instead of cannonballs cutting through the air, a roar, slower but definitely getting closer, began to grow louder.
“What?”
The Revolutionary Army soldiers, looking up involuntarily, saw it.
Cannonballs, arcing in a parabola, falling toward their heads.
“What, is that—”
Before the Revolutionary Army soldiers could even figure out what it was, the cannonballs exploded overhead, scattering flames and shrapnel.
“U-uwaaaargh—!”
“Aaaaargh! My arm, my aaarm—!”
The explosive shells fired from the Krafte Army's howitzers exploded over the heads of the soldiers hiding in Damien's trenches, which were nothing more than deeply dug ditches, ravaging them.
“Ar-are you insane, howitzers?”
Damien was dumbfounded.
It wasn't that the Revolutionary Army hadn't developed howitzers.
They had developed experimental howitzers for use in field and siege warfare and had tested them several times.
But unlike regular cannons that could be fired directly, howitzers required a deep understanding of ballistics, and it was concluded that hitting anything properly was difficult unless one was a truly skilled artilleryman.
Yet, they were killing his soldiers by concentrating a significant portion of their howitzer bombardment directly on Damien's trench line.
“Did they do nothing but fire cannons all day? Are those bastards insane!”
“What should we do, Your Excellency the Count?”
“Hold on! They can't kill all the soldiers with only howitzer shells!”
No matter how skilled they were, in the end, it was a weapon that fired approximately and exploded at a pre-set altitude with a fuse.
While they were helpless against the shells that exploded directly above the trenches, and casualties were indeed mounting, few shells were fired that accurately, and trench protection remained somewhat effective even if the shells were slightly off.
“Send a messenger to the main force and hold out until reinforcements arrive! It's perfectly possible with the river!”
“…Your Excellency the Count?”
Damien, who had been chattering urgently, took the telescope Giselle Davi handed him and looked in the direction she was pointing.
And he could see the Krafte Army carrying something long and thick.
“What the hell is that now?”
“…It seems to be a prefabricated pontoon bridge. Perhaps they intended to cross the Rhine by surprise from the very beginning…”
“Shit. So what if they cross on a bridge? Can they do anything when they're exposed to our fire! Relay to Kazel! Tell him to hold the river no matter what!”
“Understood!”
“Ah, send Second Lieutenant Aquitaine too! Since he’s a mage, tell him to try to destroy the pontoon bridge or something!”
“Yes, sir!”
Damien glanced at Giselle running off to instruct the messengers, raised his telescope with an anxious face, and then recoiled in horror.
In the distance, among the enemy ranks, a banner of an eagle holding a royal scepter was fluttering.
“Sh-shit…”
Seeing it, Damien trembled with shock and fear, muttering under his breath.
“Why is the Great King here?”
*
“Hah, haaah…”
Louis d'Aquitaine was running frantically through the trenches when the familiar roar from the sky made him reflexively raise his hand.
At the same time, the cannonball exploded, and the scattered flames and shrapnel shook the magic barrier Louis had deployed.
“Th-thank you, mage-nim, ah, I mean, Second Lieutenant.”
After giving a nod to the dazed soldier, Louis started running again.
“The war situation is a complete mess.”
Sergeant Durand, running behind him, said.
Louis thought so too.
The explosive shells fired from the howitzers did not have the destructive power or accuracy to wipe out all the soldiers in the trenches, as Damien had thought.
However, the 'Millbeau Line'...
The psychological shock that the trench line Damien had proudly boasted about as an achievement in the war with the Empire was not protecting them properly, combined with the shock of a completely new weapon, was having a greater effect than expected.
The soldiers were visibly intimidated, some staring at the approaching wave of black uniforms with terrified eyes, while others huddled in the trenches, trembling.
“Ready to fire, ready to fire! How long are you going to cower in the trenches! It won't stop your head from being blown off! Pick up your guns! Aim at the enemy!”
Passing the screaming sergeants, Louis approached General Peter de Cassel.
“General Kazel! Second Lieutenant Louis d'Aquitaine! I am here as a reinforcement, on the orders of Commander Millbeau!”
“Ah, a high-ranking mage! Good, you came at just the right time. The enemy will have to take significant damage while crossing the river. In any case, our soldiers, with the trenches—”
Kazel’s words were cut off by the sound of a gunshot.
“What, which idiot fired before they were in range!”
“N-no, sir, General!”
“What do you mean no?”
“It's the enemy! The enemy is firing!”
“Wh-what?”
At that moment, another gunshot echoed from a distance, and a soldier with his head out of the trench, aiming his gun, fell back into the trench with a thud.
“Huk…!”
Both Louis and Kazel were aghast at the sight of blood flowing from the soldier’s forehead.
Meanwhile, Sergeant Durand, who had peeked out of the trench, said.
“Schützen.”
“Wh-what?”
“They’re quite famous in the Empire, the skirmishers used by the Krafte Army. They can fire accurately from a greater distance than line infantry, using guns engraved with something called rifling.”
At that moment, a magic barrier flashed in front of Sergeant Durand and blocked a bullet with a ting.
“Like this.”
Both Kazel and Louis were at a loss for words as they watched Sergeant Durand, who grinned and ducked back down.
Louis also raised his head, magic barrier active, and saw the enemy soldiers on the other side of the river, firing aimed shots from a low stance at a distance where line infantry fire would be unlikely to hit.
The soldiers with their heads out of the trenches to stop the enemy with volley fire as they crossed the river were being picked off one by one by the enemy skirmishers.
The soldiers, who were already intimidated by the howitzer bombardment, didn’t even think of firing in volley, but hid in the trenches, trembling.
The majesty of the Krafte Army was on full display, cornering the Revolutionary Army in their trench line with howitzer bombardment and Schützen snipers and approaching steadily as they carried their pontoon bridge.
Seeing the sight, Peter de Cassel said with a pale face.
“…Crazy war machines. How are we supposed to stop something like that?”