Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 198 The Real Bridge
In the Battle of Nameless Valley, Sackler defeated Hart's allied forces.

The leaders led their respective forces to flee for their lives, only to be relentlessly pursued by Alpard.

There were over three thousand ears cut off from the corpses alone. The bloodied human ears, strung together with straw rope, filled two entire carts.

Plato's Fifth and Sixth Legions also suffered heavy casualties.

More than 7,000 corps infantrymen and more than 5,000 conscripted auxiliary soldiers participated in the battle, with a total of 772 killed and 943 seriously wounded.

Minor injuries were impossible to count, because almost every surviving soldier was wounded.

The criteria for determining serious injury have also changed to whether or not one can walk on their own.

After clearing the battlefield, Platu's army marched northeast without stopping.

There is no doubt that the Paratists won a victory.

In the past, they could have "returned in triumph with laughter and songs of victory."

However, the victory in the battle could not make up for the lack of strategy.

Arpad failed to break up the Hart coalition – because the Hart coalition was already disorganized.

Although the various tribes did not fight very hard, they were good at running away. Once the Suz tribe's cavalry, who were bringing up the rear, collapsed, the battle turned into a "dog chasing a rabbit" situation.

It's nothing for a dog to chase a rabbit. Based on past experience, it's enough to hurt the Hed people.

But now the wolves are convinced that the young horse is losing ground. Even if the young horse can kick one or two wolves to death, the remaining hungry wolves will still lick their wounds and follow closely behind the young horse.

Just as there is no independent will called "Hard", the motivations of the Hud people in fighting the Parat people are also very complex.

For the lower-class Hede herders, on the one hand, they were coerced into fighting by violence, and on the other hand, they longed for the class advancement brought by spoils of war, rewards, and military merits.

Above the lower-class herders is the full-time warrior class of the Herd society.

This includes the leaders of small and medium-sized tribes, as well as their relatives, friends, and guards.

In some ways, these people's motivations were similar to those of ordinary Hed herders. They commanded their tribesmen, and the three major tribes commanded them.

They were unwilling to lose strength, but they also craved spoils.

Armor, weapons, firearms, ammunition, and craftsmen are resources that are usually difficult for the tribes to obtain.

The older leaders still remember the good old days, and they long to wipe out the Paratul standing army and then raid Paratul—provided that their own forces are not lost.

However, the more ambitious and powerful leaders saw this battle not only as an opportunity to eliminate Platu's standing army, but also as a chance to establish prestige and control the tribes.

In addition, for all the people of Hed, there is a collective emotion that is invisible and intangible, but cannot be expressed.

That was the hatred and resentment of the "Hards" towards the "Palatu," not linked to any one individual, but residing in the heart of every Hud.

This feeling may not be as intense as "The tribe on the other side of the river stole two of my horses, I hate them so much," but it certainly exists.

In conclusion, the white lion's strategy of "not letting go, but not biting" was accepted by most of the Hed people.

Apart from the Chihe and Teldun tribes, most of the leaders only had their trusted followers left, and they needed time to gather their scattered followers.

No one dared to confront the Paratul Legion head-on anymore, but no one was willing to give up.

Alpad and Seckler achieved their goal, and the retreat of Plato's army became unusually quiet, with no further fighting taking place.

Only the occasional appearance of Hed's light cavalry reminded the Paratists that the enemy had not given up.

……

Realizing that the second pontoon bridge had also been destroyed, the mood of Platu's army became uneasy and depressed.

Anyone with a modicum of common sense could see that this army was in dire straits.

The Paratists didn't lose; they simply had nowhere else to go.

That night, two auxiliary soldiers stole horses in an attempt to escape.

They were captured by patrolling cavalry on the riverbank and executed in public the following morning.

A decision must be made quickly—this was the consensus among all officers.

At an expanded meeting of senior military officers, someone suggested, "How about we continue moving upstream?"

Let's continue upstream, a simple and direct approach.

The further upstream you go, the shallower the water and the narrower the river becomes. Just walk to a place where you can wade across, right?
"Where to go?" Colonel Bode retorted without hesitation. "Even if we go another two hundred kilometers upstream, the Styx will still be a hundred meters wide! Why don't we just go into the Shaded Mountains and circle back home through the Monta?"

"I'm just saying..."

There was another moment of silence.

Someone else suggested: "I've seen lumberjacks in the mountains. They cut down trees in the winter, transport them to the riverbank, and nail them together to make rafts. When the water rises in the summer, they can float down the river directly to Zhuwangbao and even to the Inner Sea."

"Shall we build timber rafts too?"

"It might work..."

"Gentlemen," Lieutenant Colonel Robert exclaimed, his head throbbing, "the principle of buoyancy!"

The buoyancy of an object is related to the volume of liquid it displaces; whether the officers present remember it or not, they have at least learned this.

Lieutenant Colonel Robert picked up a pen and paper and began to calculate: "A raft is not a boat; it has no empty cabins and relies entirely on the buoyancy of the wood. The density of wood is half that of water, meaning that 1 kilogram of wood on a raft can carry 1 kilogram of cargo. In reality, it certainly won't be a one-to-one ratio, but I'll give you the most accurate estimate possible."

The entire army has over 20,000 soldiers. Even if each person weighs 70 kilograms, that's a total of 1.4 million kilograms, or 1400 tons! Where are we going to find 1400 tons of timber? Where are we going to find it?!

The more he calculated, the more excited Lieutenant Colonel Robert became: "This is just the weight of people, not even counting our weapons, armor, supplies, and ammunition! Oh, and horses! Warhorses! We have tens of thousands of warhorses! And draft horses in addition to warhorses."

The meeting room was completely silent.

"Rafting? How could you even think of that!" Lieutenant Colonel Robert said, suppressing his anger. "We might as well each grab a log and jump into the river, leaving our weapons, armor, and horses to the Heds!"

"Then how about building a boat instead of a raft?" someone retorted, unconvinced.

"Ships! Ships what?" Lieutenant Colonel Robert finally lost his temper: "Aren't there Venetians in the army? Call them over and ask them how many ships it would take to transport 20,000 men! And the warhorses too! Even the largest ships in the Namibian Sea would need an entire fleet to transport 20,000 men!"

The two generals remained silent.

The atmosphere inside the military tent became extremely oppressive.

Robert is not usually the type to get excited easily; on the contrary, he is very rational.

But the more rational a person is, the more easily they break down when faced with absolute despair.

"Should we hold our ground here and send men to Kingsburg to find ships?" Colonel Haugwitz asked thoughtfully. "Kingsburg has quite a few ships. Isn't the wool always loaded onto ships in Kingsburg first, then shipped down the river to the United Provinces and Venetta?"

[Note: The "river" mentioned by the Parat people refers to the Jinliu River, which is the Benliu River mentioned by the United Provinces and Venetta people.]
A glimmer of hope ignited in everyone's eyes.

"That's right! Kings' Castle has ships! They come in all sizes!"

"The River Styx connects to major rivers; it connects to all the rivers in the wasteland! Send a boat to pick us up."

"Gentlemen!" Lieutenant Colonel Robert couldn't help but roar, "We are upstream! Kingsburg is downstream! Haven't you heard of 'buying a boat and sailing east'? Venetian merchants buy boats in Plato, load them with wool to the Inland Sea, then dismantle them to sell the timber, and finally ride back to Kingsburg!"

Colonel Bode reassured Lieutenant Colonel Robert and explained to the others, "It's upstream from Kingsburg to here. The Venetians would rather buy a boat and go east than go upstream because it's too difficult."

Going against the current requires three things: oars, sails, and towmen. It's winter now, and the westerly winds are blowing, so we're going against both the current and the wind. We can't use sails, and there's no one to tow us. To gather enough oars for our warships, we'd need either Venetia or the United Provinces' Inland Sea Fleet.”

"Don't count on the boats!" Colonel Bode concluded emphatically. He paused for a moment and said, "The only feasible way is for us to hold our ground here and send someone back to Kingsburg for reinforcements. As long as the reinforcements can defeat the barbarians on the other side of the river, we can build a pontoon bridge."

Because pontoon bridges do not have fixed piers, cable anchors need to be installed on both banks and upstream and downstream to keep the axis position from shifting.

With the Hed raiders positioned on the opposite bank of the river, they effectively strangled Plato's army.

The pontoon bridge cannot be built without defeating them.

"I think it's feasible!" a school officer shouted in agreement.

One officer asked worriedly, "Hold on? Do we have enough food?" Colonel Bode replied firmly, "If we don't have enough, we'll conserve! If we don't have enough, we'll kill horses! We must hold out until reinforcements arrive."

"What if the reinforcements fail to relieve the siege?"

“We can muster tens of thousands of Dussacs and militia in the newly reclaimed lands alone. How could we possibly lose to those few thousand Herds on the other side?” Colonel Bode said confidently. “With the barbarians invading, militias in various places must already be gathering. The Legion headquarters just needs to send them over.”

Colonel Haugwitz crossed his arms and asked, "Relying on reinforcements to relieve the siege is too passive. We should find a way to send some people across the river and wipe out the barbarians on the other side. There are about three or four thousand barbarians on the other side. As long as we can send fifteen companies across, that will be fine."

[Note: The fifteen squadrons had a full strength of about 3,000 cavalry, but in actual combat, due to difficulties in replenishing personnel, there were only about 1,700 cavalry.]
Lieutenant Colonel Robert countered, "How do we send it over?"

"Boat?"

"Where would we find a ship big enough to carry two thousand cavalrymen!"

"Go upstream and transport it little by little using small boats."

"Colonel Haugwitz! Haven't you considered the issue of morale?" Lieutenant Colonel Robert retorted, glaring at him. "If the Heds can hold their ground on the other side, why can't they monitor the upstream and downstream areas? If we fail, the loss will not only be fifteen squadrons of cavalry, but also fifteen squadrons of warhorses."

I won't even discuss whether you can cross the river. Given the army's current state, we'll collapse here before you even reach the other side! The soldiers will think you're trying to desert!

Haugwitz sneered: "You underestimate the Paratists!"

Lieutenant Colonel Robert flew into a rage: "We do all the hard work, what right do you have to say such things?"

The two sides were on the verge of exploding into conflict.

"Sit down, all of you!" Arpad slammed his fist on the table. "Want a duel? Get out. Don't get my blood on you!"

General Sackler sighed: "Holding out and waiting for reinforcements isn't a good idea. It seems we have no choice but to choose the best of the worst. We need to think of a backup plan. What if reinforcements don't come? What if they do come but can't relieve the siege?"

The military tent fell silent again.

If reinforcements don't arrive, or if they do arrive but are unable to relieve the siege.

So there was only one fate awaiting the Fifth and Sixth Legions—total annihilation.

“One of my centurions has an idea.” The one-eyed colonel, who had been silent until now, broke the silence. His voice was not loud, but it caught everyone’s attention: “That kid is quick-witted. I think we can give it a try.”

"Stop talking nonsense." General Sackler gave Lieutenant Colonel Jessica a disapproving look: "Speak!"

“Build a bridge!” Lieutenant Colonel Jessica pulled out the blueprints: “Not a pontoon bridge, but a real bridge.”

Lieutenant Colonel Robert raised an eyebrow: "A real bridge? How would you build it?"

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica stepped forward and hung the blueprints on the shelf:

"Build it like Kaisan!"

……

Winters stood on a mound, with the camp under construction in full swing in front of him.

Further ahead lies the majestic River Styx.

To Winters' left, there is another mound of similar height.

The legion headquarters officially designated the two hills as South Highlands and North Highlands.

However, because the two mounds resembled a woman's twin peaks, the soldiers called them...that.

The camp and two mounds are arranged in a triangle, right next to the riverbank.

This position is not very advantageous for defense, because the two mounds are high up and overlook the entire camp.

Plato's army was forced to build fortresses on the southern and northern highlands and disperse its troops to garrison them.

The main camp was set up in terrain unsuitable for defense for only two reasons:
First, walk half a kilometer northwest from here, and there is a dense coniferous forest;
Secondly, the river here is less than 200 meters wide, which is perfect for building a bridge.

Time was of the essence. While the soldiers of the Fifth Army Corps were still digging trenches and building fortifications, the soldiers of the Sixth Army Corps had already returned with logs.

The military camp at this moment was a huge open-air carpentry workshop and blacksmith shop.

Blacksmiths, carpenters, charcoal burners, bricklayers... all the artisans in the army were gathered in one place, including Berian.

Even the half-full bucket of water that only knows how to use a planer was siphoned away.

The bellows roared through the furnace, and the clanging and banging of the forging hammer echoed incessantly.

The surplus armor and weapons were melted down and recast into axes, nails, and anchors, which were then sent to those who needed them.

Everyone was working tirelessly, and in the center of the camp, a giant raft was gradually taking shape.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

Meanwhile, another giant raft was floating on the water, driving wooden stakes into the riverbed.

Several small boats are anchored in the middle of the river, measuring the water depth.

On the giant raft was a rudimentary machine that resembled a pile driver: a stone block, a lifting device, and a sliding rail.

The raft carrying this equipment was the core of the bridge-building project.

The soldiers on the raft shouted as they pushed the turntable, the ropes creaking as the heavy stones were lifted little by little.

The remaining soldiers on the raft worked together to place a log into the slide rail and try to overcome buoyancy to explore deeper.

When the tip of the log touched the riverbed, the officer on the raft pulled the crane's stop.

The stone block fell heavily, crashing onto the end of the wooden stake, causing the raft to tremble.

The wooden stake was driven into the riverbed nearly half a meter deep with tremendous force.

The soldiers shouted commands again as they pushed the turntable—they needed to repeat this twice more until the stakes were firmly driven into the depths of the riverbed.

Wooden piles fixed to the riverbed will serve as bridge piers, extending all the way to the opposite bank.

The enormous raft carrying a six-meter-high pile driver looked like a mythical giant walking on the water, leaving the Hed people on the opposite bank dumbfounded and running around shouting.

"Never seen this before, have you?" Winters felt a surge of pleasure. "It seems there's no Hetsky version of the Takato War Chronicles."

Brother Reed was also beside Winters.

The old man stroked his beard and sighed, "[Selica language] Ingenious skill, truly ingenious skill."

"What?" Winters didn't understand.

"I'm saying you're really amazing!"

“I didn’t invent it.” Winters scratched his hair in embarrassment. “It’s all from ancient books, but there were no real objects. When we were at the Army Academy, our teacher led us to try to recreate it.”

“However,” Brother Reid clicked his tongue, “this bridge probably won’t last long.”

"Anyway, I don't expect to use it until the end of the world, so using it once is enough."

Brother Reid laughed heartily: "Indeed."

"White Lion!" Winters suddenly shouted at Styx, "What other tricks do you have?! Use them all!"

[An illustration is provided; please refresh the page if you don't see it.]
The technology used by Plato's army was actually the same technology Caesar used to build the "bridge across the Rhine".

A floating pile driver is used to drive wooden piles into the riverbed, and then the piles are used as bridge piers to build the bridge.

On the opposite bank of the river, there were Germanic tribes, while on the opposite bank of the Platonic tribes were the Heds; Caesar had 40,000 soldiers, while the Platonic tribes only had 20,000; however, the location chosen by Caesar was 400 meters wide and 9 meters deep, while the location chosen by the Platonic tribes was only 200 meters wide and less than 6 meters deep, which reduced the difficulty somewhat.

However, Caesar ultimately did not cross that bridge...

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(End of this chapter)