novelraw Chapter 150: Krafte War - Overwhelming Force (2)
Chapter 150: Krafte War - Overwhelming Force (2)
Upon reaching the riverbank, the Krafte Army began to lay down a bridge at an astonishing speed with their prefabricated pontoons.
Seeing this, Louis d'Aquitaine raised his staff to the sky, and in an instant, dark clouds gathered—
“Haaaaah—!”
As Louis focused his mana and swung his staff down, a thunderous roar followed a bolt of lightning that struck and shattered the bridge under construction.
“O-oooh—!”
The Revolutionary Army cheered at the sight of a natural disaster conjured by mana, but the Krafte Army, after only a brief pause of surprise, immediately began to set up another bridge.
“Damn it, do those bastards have no fear?”
Peter de Cassel lamented as he watched the scene.
“Second Lieutenant d’Aquitaine. They are continuing to build the bridge…”
“Hah, hah, just, just a moment…”Despite Sergeant Durand's words, Louis was dripping with sweat, trying to catch his breath.
Effectively, only Louis's magic was capable of destroying the pontoon bridges being erected, but they were laid at such a rapid pace that the young mage, no matter how hard he tried, could not possibly destroy them all.
While Louis was struggling and the enemy's howitzers and skirmishers were devastating their position, Demian was not just watching from the rear.
“Send out all the artillery and bombard the enemy! Now!”
“Yes, sir!”
At the order delivered by Giselle Davi's messenger, the artillerymen who had been hiding in the trenches hurriedly dragged out their towed cannons and began preparing for bombardment.
“Heave, ho—!”
“Ugh, this thing is damn heavy!”
But even with horses, the weight of the cannons was no small matter, and it took considerable time just to bring them out.
“Prepare to fire! Hurry!”
“H-huh, artillery fire—!”
“Uwaaaargh!”
No sooner had they arduously brought out the cannons and prepared to fire than shells from the Krafte Army's direct-fire cannons began to rain down.
The artillerymen, already exhausted from dragging the cannons out of the trenches, were exposed to the barrage of the Krafte artillery, which boasted incredible accuracy, suffering massive losses before they could even get off a few proper shots.
Upon receiving the news, Damien De Millbeau tore at his hair.
“Damn it all to heeeell—! That damned Great King was waiting for this!”
Those who could fire howitzers with high accuracy would have no trouble handling direct-fire cannons.
Instead of wasting direct-fire shots on the trench line, they had waited, anticipating our deployment of artillery to counter their bombardment.
If they had emplaced their artillery beforehand, they might have been able to respond to some extent, but the decision to hide them in the trenches in anticipation of the enemy bringing more direct-fire cannons, as in the war with the Empire, had backfired spectacularly.
But how was he supposed to predict a surprise attack at dawn, carried out by a night march, when they weren't even there in the daytime!
All the while, the pontoon bridges were multiplying at an exponential rate—
“Your Excellency the Count! At this rate, we will allow the enemy to cross the river!”
Hearing Giselle Davi’s pale-faced cry, Demian broke out in a cold sweat.
Was it a losing move to try and recycle a strategy that had worked once against the Empire?
At this point, it was clear this was no accidental encounter.
They had anticipated that Damien De Millbeau would adopt a defensive posture relying on the 'Mirbeau Line,' and prepared their attack specifically to counter it.
“How long has it been since we requested reinforcements?”
“…Two hours have passed, Your Excellency.”
Even if the main force in Lorraine or the second line in Franche-Comté received the message and began preparing for departure, by the time they arrived, the battle would already be in its final stages.
No, what final stages.
The opponent was the elite of Krafte’s entire army. How long could they hold out against that?
By the time reinforcements arrived, his army would already have been devastatingly defeated.
Swallowing dryly, Demian opened his mouth.
“W-withdraw.”
“Pardon?”
“If we wait until the enemy crosses the river and engages, we’ll be wiped out trying to get out of the trenches! Order a full retreat! We’re giving up Alsace and retreating to the second line!”
“Will you be alright, Your Excellency?”
Giselle Davi, in a rare show of concern for his well-being, made Damien cry out, his face contorted as if he were about to burst into tears.
“What else can I do! We can’t all die here!”
All that’s left is to cling to Marquis Lafayette’s coattails and beg for mercy!
*
Nancy, the capital of Lorraine.
Revolutionary Army Headquarters.
I read the report, quite disheartened.
Six hours.
That was the time it took for Damien De Millbeau to be beaten into retreat, and for the Krafte Army, after crossing the Rhine with incredible speed, to secure the entire Alsace region.
“Hah.”
The Southern Army, the Central Army, the Northern Army.
It was all a deception.
Or perhaps it was just a rough designation they had given themselves, and we had hastily misinterpreted it, mistakenly thinking they would attack from different directions.
The entire 200,000-strong Krafte army had crushed Damien De Millbeau's 'Mirbeau Line' and poured into Alsace.
Not a single soldier had come towards Lorraine, the direction of our anticipated main attack.
I don’t think our generals who predicted an offensive into Lorraine were incompetent. From a military science or strategic common sense perspective, that was the natural prediction.
From a strategic point of view, concentrating all forces in Alsace is a strategically poor move.
The subsequent attack routes become extremely limited, making them easy to predict, and if defeated, they would have to retreat, immediately losing all occupied territory.
The impact would be enormous, as an army of 200,000 would have to retreat across a river.
But that is a story for when considering strategic stability.
I think I'm starting to understand what Karl II is thinking.
That man doesn't even consider the possibility of losing, so there is no need for him to consider strategic stability.
If he can march forward and smash everything with overwhelming power, all other matters are of no concern to him.
-When facing the Great King, do not consider the future or strategy. The moment you consider such things and prepare your next move, you will be broken before him. Fight as if every moment is your last, resisting with everything you have.
Only now did I finally and completely understand the meaning of Grand Duke Leopold’s words.
They are an army that has pushed operational excellence and military elitism to their absolute limits, dedicating everything to tactical superiority.
Reserve units? The next move?
Do they even have such things in their minds?
But in the end, they caught us completely off guard.
Alsace, which I had expected to hold out for quite some time, bolstered by the Rhine River, collapsed in an instant, and the defense lines we had thoroughly prepared in Metz, Lorraine, and Verdun, anticipating an attack from the north, became useless.
Now, we must face Krafte with a completely new defensive plan.
In the midst of it all, Damien, hailed as the ‘Master of Defense’ and ‘Guardian of Dilrus,’ and effectively the second-in-command of the Revolutionary Army, was so easily crushed in the first battle that the morale of the Revolutionary Army was tremendously shaken.
I felt a wave of fatigue and raised a hand to rub my eyes.
I had never felt such a wall, not even when fighting against Grand Duke Leopold or Paimon.
“Your Excellency the Marquis…”
At Desaix’s worried voice, I let out a light sigh and issued the order.
“Issue an assembly order to all troops.”
In the end, what the Great King wants is to deliberately narrow the next path of advance, in order to have a proper, grand battle with me.
Damien De Millbeau is begging for mercy, claiming he had no choice but to do it to save his soldiers. But whether it was for his own safety or to save his troops, his judgment was not bad.
If, by some miracle, the army led by Damien had been crushed to dust by the Krafte Army, the gap in military power would have widened in an instant.
“Fortunately, Count Milbeau managed to preserve the army, so we can afford to fight a battle.”
Though not comparable to the Krafte Army, we too have considerable elite troops.
The Revolutionary Guard and the Cuirassiers are seasoned veterans who fought the Drones in Iberica, and in terms of numbers, we far surpass them.
The army of the Iberian Brotherhood, which should be entering Francia by now, will also arrive soon.
“Since it has come to this, let’s have a go at it. Let's see just how great that Krafte Army is.”
*
The capital of the Krafte Kingdom, Mittelburg.
The government building of Krafte was quiet, because the Great King had taken all the military officials with him.
Krafte was a country where the military so thoroughly owned the nation, rather than the nation owning the military, that even in politics, military officials held the majority.
In that empty government building, Chancellor Justin von Wittenfeld, who oversaw most of the country in the Great King's absence, narrowed his brow slightly.
As expected of Karl II, the Great King he served.
In Alsace, he had achieved victory by overwhelmingly pushing back the so-called ‘Master of Defense’ whom the Revolutionary Army boasted of.
It was somewhat regrettable that the opponent had retreated before he could inflict as much damage as he had hoped, owing to their quick judgment, but with a highly renowned general defeated in the very first battle, the enemy’s morale must have been quite shaken.
The war situation was going very smoothly.
But that was why Wittenfeld felt uneasy.
The Black Witch of Aquitaine, Christine d’Aquitaine.
Nominally the master of the Aquitaine Merchant Guild, a member of the National Assembly, and an admiral, she was in reality a mastermind actively handling all sorts of political maneuvers and intelligence warfare behind the scenes in Francia.
He hadn't underestimated her.
But given that this was an intelligence war, he had been confident that he had the upper hand.
And indeed, almost all of their plots had been blocked, and Wittenfeld was on the verge of capturing the ‘head’ controlling the intelligence war in Krafte, based on information extracted from the captured Aquitaine agents.
But at that very moment, almost all operations against the Krafte Army had ceased.
So cleanly, as if they had predicted the consequences of pushing any further.
Wittenfeld slowly pushed up his glasses.
It is a wise move to grasp one's situation and withdraw before sustaining significant damage.
As the manager of an intelligence organization, Wittenfeld even felt compelled to praise the Black Witch for being able to judge her own situation so objectively.
But on the other hand, he couldn't understand how it was possible.
Two years. Two years.
An intelligence war that had continued for the period guaranteed by the Great King.
During that time, Wittenfeld had achieved considerable results.
He had fomented factional conflict within the rapidly reconstituting Revolutionary Army, and the bombing of the capital's armory to mark the opening of hostilities had caused immense practical damage.
What had the Black Witch of Aquitaine accomplished during that time?
She may have been able to plant some spies and gather some information, but she had failed to execute a single plausible operation.
Yet, after being unilaterally outmaneuvered for two years, she cleanly withdraws, judging that she would suffer damage if she pushed any further?
Even with the Krafte Army advancing into Francia's territory as they spoke?
“This, perhaps…”
Wittenfeld opened his mouth softly, then closed it.
It was something he was reluctant to say aloud.
Could it be that he wasn't toying with the Black Witch, but rather the Black Witch was toying with him?
*
At the same time, in Lumiere, the capital of Francia.
Christine d'Aquitaine looked at the map of the Central Continent with a cold expression.
“Your Excellency the Countess, the return of all agents who were conducting operations in Krafte has been confirmed.”
“Good. You’ve done well, Lina. Give them paid leave.”
Although driven to such a place for their warranted acts, they had somehow managed to survive until now while operating in Krafte.
The warning should have been sufficient, so they are more than worth recycling.
“Yes, I understand, Your Excellency the Countess.”
After her personal handmaiden and right-hand who managed her intelligence organization withdrew, Christine tapped the pieces on the map with her finger. Tap-tap-.
The military operations against the Krafte Army had almost all failed.
The greatest achievement was merely filtering out the competent agents who could sense and avoid a crisis in Krafte, and gathering the information they brought back.
Still, they had performed their roles admirably.
They had continued their operations so fiercely and with many sacrifices that they had made their chancellor believe Christine was putting all her effort into infiltration and sabotage operations against the Krafte Army.
The number of infiltrated agents alone exceeded several hundred. The cost of training agents was no small matter, so their conclusion was unavoidable.
But—
There was a vast gap between the money a militaristic nation scrapes together to invest in an intelligence organization and the money the manager of a merchant guild that controls the economy of Francia, a nation more than twice its size, can invest.
This difference had simply tied down the Chancellor of Krafte, leaving Christine with enough capacity to conduct other operations.
Besides.
Christine's lips twisted into a smirk.
If they, owing to their origins as an organization created to support the military, could gain an advantage over Aquitaine’s agents, the reverse was also true.
The seeds had been sufficiently sown, and the preparations were complete.
Now all that remained was.
Christine reached out her hand and swept it over Lorraine on the map, where Pierre was.
Just once.
If he could just once show proof that there was a chance of victory in the war with Krafte.
It would be possible to drive that seemingly invincible Krafte into a corner.
She had done everything she could, so all that was left was to believe Pierre would do his part and wait.
…As it has always been.