I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution

Chapter 94: Revolutionary Defense War - Prelude (3)

Lorraine Region, the easternmost front line of the Kingdom of Francia.

Warm sunlight streamed down from the clear spring sky, seemingly perfect weather for an outing.

However, in Metz, the foremost city of the Lorraine front, sounds ill-suited for such fine weather filled the air.

Artillery fire, exchanged between both camps for hours, battered both sides indiscriminately, and black smoke from countless musket shots spewing black powder acridly covered the battlefield.

Unlike the Alsace front, where trenches were dug along the river for protection from shelling, trenches offered little protection against line infantry ready to launch a bayonet charge at a moment's notice.

Therefore, on the Lorraine front, where Marquis Lafayette and Archduke Leopold's main forces clashed, the revolutionary army fought by setting up barricades in city streets and along front lines, or engaged in successive battles on the plains.

Amidst the Germania Empire troops marching in neat ranks and files, with their rhythmic footsteps shaking the ground, cheerful music played by a military band echoed.

As the Imperial troops neared the low walls of the village defended by the revolutionaries, a dissonance crept into the military band's music, which felt more like pushing them from behind than encouraging them.

Muskets fired in unison from the revolutionaries, who exposed only their arms and heads above the wall, and gunshots rang out consecutively.

Blood splattered with the sound of bullets cutting through the air as several Germania Empire soldiers, who had been advancing in orderly fashion, fell.However, advancing regardless of falling soldiers, a sergeant beside the Imperial troops raised his sword and shouted.

"Aim!"

At the sergeant's cry, the Germania Empire troops raised their muskets in unison—

"Fire!"

A few who took bullets to their exposed heads above the wall collapsed, spattering blood, but the wall blocked most bullets.

"Reload, hurry!"

While the Imperial troops diligently shoved ramrods into their muskets to push in bullets at the sergeant's piercing shout, cries and gunshots erupted from the revolutionary defense line.

"Kugh…"

An Imperial soldier, struggling to push a stubborn bullet in with his ramrod, was startled when blood suddenly splattered onto his face, accompanied by a death cry from beside him.

"Ugh-!"

After frantically rubbing his eyes, the soldier opened them to find the soldier who had been standing next to him moments before collapsed on the ground.

"Hi, hiik-!"

As the person behind screamed at the sudden disappearance of the one in front, a sergeant standing behind kicked him in the rear, pushing him into the front rank.

"Move forward!"

Meanwhile, as most soldiers finished reloading, the sergeant raised his sword again.

"Aim!"

The Imperial troops, including the reluctantly pushed forward soldier whose hands trembled, raised their muskets—

"Fire!"

Gunshots erupted again, and several revolutionaries fell backward as artillery shells landing with a roar completely demolished the wall, along with the soldiers hiding behind it.

Although the Imperial army suffered more casualties compared to the revolutionaries defending a somewhat fortified position, it fundamentally outnumbered them two to one.

The village walls and hastily built barricades, which initially provided a rather solid defense line, gradually crumbled under the sustained offensive and became useless.

"Charge!"

Finally, judging they had pushed enough, at the command of an Imperial sergeant, the Germania Empire troops began to charge towards the city walls, battered by numerous battles and bombardments.

The revolutionaries behind the wall didn't stand idle. Their guns fired again, felling a significant number of the charging Imperial soldiers.

The volley fire delivered at close range inflicted tremendous damage.

The Imperial army wavered instantly, and many screamed out the names of their falling comrades.

"Hi, hiik, this is…"

"Hans, Hans!"

"Charge, now! Anyone who stops faces a court-martial!"

"Ugh-"

But if they stopped charging, they'd be killed by their own side; if they charged, they might get lucky and survive.

The Imperial troops, educated through near-brainwashing beatings, forced the charge, yelling as the sergeant's voice urged them on.

"Waaaaah-!"

"Long live the Kaiser- Kuaaack!"

The Imperial soldiers charged spiritedly through the breach in the wall, torn down by sustained shelling, and became pincushions for the revolutionaries' bayonets the moment they set foot inside.

"Push them back!"

"Don't retreat!"

As hand-to-hand combat began, shouts and screams erupted from all sides.

With the gruesome sound of bayonets piercing human flesh, they pushed, stabbed, and grappled, screaming at each other.

"You vile Germania invaders!"

"Kill the rebel insurgents!"

"Hold the line!"

The revolutionaries tried their best to defend, and while holding the breach in the wall was manageable, the twice-as-numerous Imperial troops pushed relentlessly, creating new gaps in the already battered walls, causing the defense line to soon waver.

"Th-that wall over there has collapsed too!"

"D-damn it!"

"Attack, attack! For the Empire!"

Eventually, unable to hold on any longer, one of the revolutionaries began to flee.

"Ugh, uwaaah! I don't want to die!"

"Hah, where are you going!"

"We'll all die like this!"

The crack that started with one spread instantly, and despair spread just as the Imperial troops pushed through the wavering line.

"Revolutionary army, do not retreat! Commander-in-Chief Pierre de Lafayette has come to aid you!"

The voice, amplified by magic, echoed clearly even amidst the loud clamor and noise of battle.

And immediately after, a troop of cavalry appeared with the sound of horse hooves.

At the sight of Marquis Lafayette riding at their front, the reactions of the two armies were completely opposite.

"M-Marquis Lafayette has come!"

"His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief is here! Don't fall back!"

The revolutionaries, who had been contemplating escape, felt greatly relieved and reignited their fighting spirit—

"Wh-what?"

"Damn it, him again!"

The Imperial troops, who were on the verge of capturing the outskirts, instantly wavered, utterly shocked to see Marquis Lafayette and the cuirassiers truly charging towards the wall they had just arduously overcome.

"F-fire! Quickly!"

An Imperial officer shouted urgently, but it was futile.

Those engaged in chaotic hand-to-hand combat attacking through the narrow breach in the wall couldn't possibly form ranks and deliver a volley just because they were told to fire.

Even though some soldiers hastily aimed and fired, their aim was atrocious, and the bullets flew into the sky or went wide.

The few properly aimed shots were blocked by the bluish mana barriers surrounding Marquis Lafayette and the cuirassiers following him.

"Ugh, uwaaah-!"

"Run, run away!"

It took only an instant for the Imperial troops, who had pushed forward with difficulty while enduring numerous casualties, to fall into chaos.

"Charge! For Francia!"

As if responding to Pierre's shout as he aimed his sword, Francia's cavalry raised their swords in unison and charged towards the crumbling Imperial army.

There was no need even to swing a sword at the unfortunate enemy soldier at the very front.

"Ugh, uwaaah-!"

The soldier kicked by Marquis Lafayette's charging warhorse flew through the air like a rotten log over the wall.

The only difference was that unlike a rotten log, he flew flailing and screaming desperately, and the enemy soldiers inside the wall, startled by the commotion, were horrified to see a corpse flying over their heads.

The Marquis's sword descended upon the soldiers struggling behind, trying desperately to evade the cavalry charge.

The mithril sword, infused and amplified with mana to glow bluishly, not only decapitated the targeted enemy soldier instantly but also swept through those behind him.

"Aaaack!"

"Hi, hiik! Monster!"

With several men instantly cut down by Marquis Lafayette and crushed under the charge of the following cuirassiers, it took only a moment for the Imperial troops to panic.

The Imperial army turned to flee.

However, the narrow breach in the wall they had struggled to squeeze through only added to the chaos between the soldiers ordered to charge from outside and those trying to escape.

"What, why are you coming out! The platoon leader ordered us forward! Move!"

"You move, I'm getting out alive!"

"Don't push, you lunatic!"

"Uwaaak! My foot, my foot!"

Packed tightly with no room to move, the flailing Germania Empire troops were already in no state to fight properly.

"Revolutionary army, counterattack! Wipe out the isolated enemies!"

"Follow His Excellency the Marquis!"

"For Francia!"

As the revolutionaries, pushed to the brink of rout, regained momentum at Marquis Lafayette's command and launched an offensive, all that remained for the Imperial troops trapped in the wall in utter chaos was to be brutally slaughtered.

*

In the end, the Imperial army, which had almost captured the outskirts of Metz, was driven back outside the walls after losing many soldiers.

"S-surrender, we surrender!"

"Spare us!"

Many of the Imperial soldiers who had struggled to enter were crushed by their own comrades or utterly massacred, and for those who couldn't hold out, surrender was the only option.

"...Hoo."

I flicked the blood off my sword and caught my breath.

The defensive line almost collapsed, but thankfully, we plugged it in time and inflicted considerable damage on the Imperial army.

"Marquis!"

Seeing a messenger rushing over from afar, I rode my horse towards him.

"What's the situation?"

"Continuous engagements are ongoing in the Moselle Plains. Her Majesty the Queen is nearly exhausted, but the enemy artillery also seems considerably depleted, so the situation is deadlocked."

To defend the Lorraine Region, the gateway for the Empire into Francia, despite being significantly outnumbered, the strategy I chose was simple.

Fortify the relatively large city of Metz to defend the western part of the region, and in the eastern Moselle Plains, set up barricades and deploy numerous artillery units and Eris to wear down the enemy as much as possible.

If we concentrate all artillery in the east, we can at least achieve parity in artillery power there, and if Eris blocks even a portion of the shelling with her divine power, we might even gain the upper hand.

And organize elite cuirassiers trained in mana into firefighting brigades, led by myself and Gaston respectively, to intervene as reinforcements wherever the front line wavers.

Under this plan, we are fighting a delaying action as much as possible.

With the prudent and capable Louis Dejoie as acting commander-in-chief, and Alexandre Berthier, who can offer appropriate advice if needed, as chief of staff, I can personally move around the front lines.

"Metz has bought some breathing room for now. My unit will move to Moselle immediately, so tell Commander Dejoie to hold on just a little longer."

"Understood, Your Excellency! Also, news has arrived from Count Milbeau's messenger!"

"Oh, what did he say about that front?"

"He reports they are holding the river firm, having captured Count Baden, so you shouldn't worry!"

"...What?"

Even this place I'm defending is so precarious, yet that man?

Is this a false report?

"...Understood. Dispatch a messenger to commend the Count for his excellent work and encourage him to continue. Ah, and while sending the messenger, also have them properly assess the situation there."

If it's false, I can deal with him later; if it's true, it's a huge success, so praising him would be good.

...If it's true, I can probably work him even harder in the future.

"Yes, Your Excellency!"

As soon as the messenger left, I ordered my unit commander.

"Reorganize the unit. We'll catch our breath briefly and then move immediately to Moselle."

"Yes, sir!"

I glanced at the revolutionary soldiers busy with the aftermath.

"Marquis Lafayette! Thank you for the support!"

"Glory to the Commander-in-Chief!"

Despite their ragged appearance from the fierce battle, they expressed gratitude or saluted as soon as they saw me. Replying with a salute, I felt complicated.

I boost morale by personally touring the front lines and making it known I fight alongside them, allowing us to hold on, but ultimately, these are people fighting and dying to buy time.

I glanced at the already ruined outer walls of the city and the state of the soldiers and concluded.

It seems we won't be able to hold out for long...

*

Early dawn, Germania Empire Army Headquarters.

Throughout the two-day fierce battle, Archduke Leopold, who had been commanding from headquarters and issuing orders to various units, stared intently at the operational map, his face utterly worn with fatigue.

Numerically, they were clearly superior.

In both Metz fortress and the Moselle Plains, the Archduke was fighting with overwhelming numerical advantage.

However, the enemy actively utilized the advantages of fortified positions to mount a defense, and held on tenaciously with morale far higher than the Imperial army had expected.

The Archduke relentlessly pushed and attacked, but whenever they were about to break through with great effort, the firefighting brigades led by Marquis Lafayette or Gaston would arrive as if by magic and close the very breach they had just forced open.

Those firefighting brigades, composed of knights and cuirassiers trained in mana, are formidable opponents even in an open field battle, but when they only jump into areas that have been painstakingly breached, the exhausted and disordered troops simply cannot withstand them.

The Archduke had also started training cuirassiers in mana after the last war, cultivating them as elite troops.

However, it was questionable if they were even equal to Francia's knights or cuirassier corps, and it was difficult to find opportunities to deploy cavalry against an enemy maneuvering internally within fortified defense lines.

The pursuing cavalry that constantly hunted hussars, opportunistically targeting the flanks of the Imperial army, was also a headache.

If he committed all the heavy cavalry to seek a decisive battle with Lafayette's heavy cavalry, the pursuing cavalry, unstoppable by hussars alone, would target his flank or the artillery in the rear, making it difficult to rashly attempt a cavalry showdown.

In the Moselle Plains, the area most easily pushed through by force, they were using the unfair tactic of concentrating all their artillery in fortified positions and protecting them with the Saintess while engaging in a one-sided artillery duel, so progress there was also sluggish.

"Truly despicable."

The Archduke let out a hollow laugh.

Although his forces were clearly superior, the enemy was forcing a situation where they couldn't fully exert their power, constantly inducing losses.

The Archduke drew his sword and stabbed it into Metz on the map.

Still, it was now the third day since the battle began, and under the Archduke's persistent offensive, their defensive line had finally reached the brink of collapse.

Today, the enemy's defense line would finally be breached.

Ultimately, this was a battle that couldn't be lost from the start, and the Archduke was not incompetent enough to end such a battle in defeat.

Nevertheless, his expression remained grim.

He hadn't expected much from Duke Gunhild sent to Alsace, but he hadn't imagined that even sufficiently equipped troops, sent with instructions not to lose, would fail to engage in a proper battle.

Hearing the report that Count Baden had been captured without gains, the Archduke was so dumbfounded he immediately sent a messenger, yelling orders for an all-out attack.

The furrows on the Archduke's brow deepened.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was growing anxious.

The Archduke was already aware that there were those within the Imperial army secretly comparing him and the Marquis.

An allied commander who continuously sends soldiers to their deaths from the safe rear, and an enemy commander who appears whenever his troops are in danger and fights at the forefront.

It goes without saying which one would exert greater influence on the front-line soldiers.

Archduke Leopold was nearing 60, while Marquis Lafayette was merely twenty-three.

If a young commander of only twenty-three could achieve such fame and skill with a revolutionary army that had no foundation, what would happen if he gained more experience and rebuilt an army exceeding the kingdom era?

Although forced into an unwanted war after his retirement was denied, the Archduke knew he couldn't stay in the military forever.

If he were gone, who in the Germania Empire could possibly face that man?

Archduke Leopold let out a deep sigh, massaging his eyes with dark circles heavy beneath them.

However, at least today, Marquis Lafayette would be defeated.

Inflict maximum damage in this battle and somehow render Francia unable to recover—

"Ex-excuse me! Your Highness!"

The Archduke looked with a puzzled expression at the officer who rushed in.

"...What is it?"

"The Francian army is reported to have withdrawn!"

The Archduke's expression froze.

"What? Withdrawn? What do you mean? Are they withdrawing now?"

"N-no, Your Highness! The enemies in Metz and the Moselle Plains have all disappeared!"

While the Archduke was speechless with disbelief, the officer continued cautiously.

"My apologies, Your Highness. It seems they withdrew secretly during the night, after yesterday's battle. The soldiers were exhausted from combat, and the enemy withdrew leaving their flags and tents behind, so we failed to notice-"

Thud!

The officer's words were cut off as Archduke Leopold slammed his fist on the desk.

"Ha."

Metz and Moselle Plains, both main areas crucial for defending Francia's foremost front line, Lorraine.

Main areas that Francia absolutely had to defend, and Germania absolutely had to overcome. The enemy fought back desperately, exploiting the terrain to inflict losses.

And yet, they abandoned those main areas and retreated before the defensive line was even breached?

The Archduke knew, and that man must have known too, that the defense line was at its limit, but even so, he hadn't thought they would retreat like this.

Archduke Leopold, or any commander, couldn't do such a thing. While perhaps tactically brilliant, it would cause an immediate uproar back home.

But for the Commander-in-Chief who already had a firm grip on the National Assembly, was The One who enthroned the Queen, and had no rivals, such an act was possible.

'That man intended this from the start, choosing this battlefield, forcing losses while preparing for withdrawal in advance, and then fled during the night.'

If only the hussars had done their job, it might have been different, but experiencing firsthand being toyed with while blinded felt doubly foul.

"Ha, haha, hahaha-!"

Only Archduke Leopold's dry laughter echoed in the barracks.

The Germania Empire army succeeded in capturing Metz, thus opening a bridgehead into Francia.

However, the Francian army, which they had barely pushed to the brink of collapse while suffering countless losses, retreated without bloodshed, preserving their forces, and the price was steep.

In the preliminary battle at Metz, Marquis Lafayette's Francian revolutionary army of 50,000 suffered 5,000 losses and retreated safely, while Archduke Leopold's Germania Empire army of 90,000 suffered 12,000 losses.

The preliminary battle ended in a Pyrrhic victory for the Germania Empire.