Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

In the second wave, a squad leader who was running looked in horror at the sudden appearance of fire and smoke not far in front of him.

The firelight appeared somewhat pale in the afternoon sun, but its outline and the way it spread were exactly the same as a real artillery barrage.

As a veteran, his fighting instincts overwhelmed his thoughts in that instant.

He didn't need to judge whether it was true or not; his body had already made the decision for him. He instantly lowered his center of gravity, his knees almost touching the ground, and then he fell diagonally forward, his body drawing a low arc in the air. When he landed, his shoulders hit the ground first, and then he rolled over to dissipate the impact, all the while shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Fire!"

The sound was squeezed out of his chest, sharp and urgent, like a string stretched to its limit.

However, he still told them to slow down.

He was a veteran, and his comrades-in-arms were also veterans.

They didn't need to wait for him to shout; they lay down with him almost simultaneously, leaning forward, lowering their center of gravity, bending their knees, and slapping the ground with their palms. The whole movement seemed to be guided by the same invisible thread, completing the transition from movement to stillness in the same frame of the same second.

These veterans, lying prone on the ground, pressed their chests to the ground, but slightly lifted their abdomens and pelvis, supporting their bodies with their elbows and toes to keep their torsos at a low and stable height. Their hands were crossed, palms clasped behind their heads, elbows forward to protect their temples and cheeks, keeping their faces pressed firmly against the ground.

Of course, the mouth wasn't idle either; it was slightly open, the chin relaxed, but the tongue pressed against the roof of the mouth, while holding the breath.

The series of movements was fluid and precise, as if etched into the memory of every muscle. The posture was so perfect it couldn't be more so: fall quickly, abdomen off the ground, tuck behind the head, mouth slightly open, hold your breath, roll into the pit.

The three-point support is because after a shell lands and explodes, the shockwave spreads outwards along the ground and bounces off the ground within milliseconds, forming a lethal layer that propagates horizontally along the surface. Internal organs close to the ground are easily ruptured and bleed by the shockwave, while being slightly suspended allows the abdomen and chest cavity to avoid the most lethal pressure peak, greatly reducing the damage from infrasound shockwaves.

The debris, dirt, and armor fragments ejected by the explosion are equally deadly. These fragments are accelerated to bullet-like speeds during the blast, moving in random directions and in large numbers. Even with a helmet, there's a chance of small fragments penetrating it. Therefore, when lying down, use your arms to protect your head, providing a buffer for your helmet.

Hands can grow back, but a head is gone forever.

The explosion generates an overpressure shock wave that instantly impacts the eardrum and base of the skull through the nasal cavity and Eustachian tube, reaching the body before the sound is even heard.

If you blow air through your mouth with your mouth closed, the pressure difference between your lungs and the inside and outside of your eardrums will be too great, which can cause perforation of both eardrums and lung concussion. Therefore, you should slightly open your mouth and hold your breath. This will allow the pressure inside and outside of your eardrums to equalize instantly, and at the same time allow the shock wave to release pressure through your mouth, protecting your lungs.

Yes, Trucchi has a wealth of experience in this area.

As for why it's so abundant...

Who could blame them when their hypothetical enemy is the Kingdom of Caledon, renowned for its fire magic and dragons?

The moment the dragon's breath descends from the sky, shockwaves and debris will cover the entire position within seconds.

If you can't lie down, you don't need to know anything else.

The next second, unable to open his mouth wide to shout, the churning of thoughts replaced the act of cursing.

"This was not part of the plan at all!"

Why was there artillery fire?

These questions were racing through his mind, like a shuttle weaving back and forth on a high-speed loom.

But the next second, the instinct for combat once again overwhelmed his thinking. It was time to roll away, find the nearest crater, or seize the reverse slope, trench, or the back of a thick wall as soon as possible. That was the optimal solution.

If you're in an open area... take care!
However, the next second, reason once again overcame the instinct to fight.

The expected shockwave and vibration did not occur, nor did the sound of an explosion.

There was no earthquake, no impact, no numbness in the body, and no fine dust particles that bounced from afar.

Nothing at all.

Even the firelight and smoke disappeared.

The squad leader paused for a moment, then tilted his head slowly, as if confirming something or waiting for something. The instant he completed the movement, he made eye contact with the soldier not far away beside him. In those eyes, there was confusion, probing, and a sense of confirmation, as if asking, "Did you feel it too?"

Both of them saw the same confusion in each other's expressions.

The next second, the squad leader adjusted his posture and cautiously looked up.

Flames and smoke reappeared not far in front of them, silent and still, like a battlefield video that had been muted. But there was still no sound, no shockwave, and no tremor.

Thus, the importance of compulsory education was fully demonstrated at this moment!
"magic?"

"magic!"

The squad leader spoke with a sense of sudden realization, as if saying, "So that's how it is," and also with a self-deprecating tone of "How come I didn't think of that?"

"You scared me!"

A soldier shouted, trying to release his pent-up fear. The voice was loud and forceful, like a spring that had been compressed for too long finally snapping open. But one shout was far from enough; what followed was a barrage of insults, the words churning in his throat as if they were about to burst from his body.

Unfortunately, before he could even begin, he was kicked by the vice-captain standing next to him.

The kick wasn't heavy, but it was precise, striking the outside of his thigh with force that penetrated the fabric, causing his body to tilt slightly.

The soldier was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized, with an expression that said, "Oh, I understand."

The existence that can create such an effect that is indistinguishable from reality is not something they can afford to offend.

If someone with ulterior motives writes this down... the consequences will be far more serious than just a scolding.

"Continue! Proceed according to the manual!"

At the same time, a black knight accompanying them not far away also reacted. He stood up and shouted, and the sound spread through the afternoon air, penetrating the figures of the soldiers who were getting up from the ground, through their hands as they were patting their clothes and their chests as they were reading their breath.

So the second wave was even more miserable than the first; they had to run an obstacle course under fire.

In addition to crossing trenches and shell craters and dodging the wreckage of bombed-out barbed wire, they also had to lie down from time to time.

Every time a flash of light appeared, we had to lie down; every time smoke rose, we had to lie down.

That rhythm turned their charge into intermittent leaps: run a few steps, lie down, run a few more steps, lie down again.

"Four points!" Darkus clapped his hands and gave the score as he watched this.

After Malekith presided over the magical ritual, the effects on the position became more realistic, with more lifelike firelight, thicker smoke, and the way the view was obstructed was almost exactly the same as a real artillery barrage.

Add one point!
As for the missing one point...

The sound was missing, the splattering dirt was missing, and the blood pack prop was missing.

If it rained a little more, it would be even better; Verdun would be back!
On the other side of the riverbank, the fourth wave also began. Like a train being started car by car, each carriage released its load in turn after receiving the signal, starting from the first wave, with a stable and even rhythm.

As the second wave approached the defensive position, the sound of bolt-action rifles began to echo.

Compared to the first wave, the second wave was more open in terms of shooting. Some people stood up to shoot, their posture like hunters standing on the grassland aiming at a running prey; others chose to kneel, one knee on the ground, upper body stable, rifle butt against shoulder, as if performing a ritual that required precision; but most of them chose to lie on the ground, which was the lowest, most stable, and least likely to be hit posture.

After firing ten rounds, a soldier reluctantly handed his rifle to his comrade. He then watched as his captain took a spool of ammunition from the box and handed it to his comrade, watching as his comrade pulled the bolt and loaded the ammunition into the magazine – a smooth and clean motion.

As he was looking around, the deputy captain beside him gave him a light push, a push that sounded like a reminder or an urging. Only then did he realize that he hadn't finished collecting the spent cartridge cases; the ten bronze-colored cases were still scattered around him.

So he collected his own spent cartridge cases, wiped the dirt off with his fingers, and handed them to the vice-captain who was in charge of collecting them.

As he was collecting them, a comrade standing nearby raised a question.

"Can live ammunition penetrate that metal plate?" "And then?" the vice-captain replied somewhat impatiently.

"Kill the person operating the next step..."

Are you an idiot?

"You think you're so smart!"

"Use your pig brain to think properly!"

Before the soldier could finish speaking, various voices of rebuttal and ridicule arose from the surrounding area.

These soldiers seemed to have found an outlet, venting their anger, confusion, and fear in this way.

He was stunned for a moment, then a blush rose from the base of his neck, quickly spreading to the tips of his ears, like a lamp suddenly lit. Then he prepared to retort; his lips moved, opening and closing, closing and opening, but no sound came out.

Yes, if live ammunition can penetrate that iron plate, then why does that iron plate even exist?
What is the meaning of its existence?

Is it so that live ammunition can penetrate it?

If we actually break through, then what?
Kill one operator, and there will be a second, a third, and a fourth.

And what about yourself?

If you're exposed in open ground, you could be hit by another bullet before you even pull the trigger.

“See those heads? If this were real combat, they wouldn’t be looking, they would be shooting like we are now! Shooting! Shooting! I guarantee you’ll die faster than them!” the vice-captain added, this time even more impatient than before.

He's not usually like this; he's usually very composed. But what he's just experienced and is going through right now has made him uncontrollably agitated. That agitation is like a fine needle piercing his skull from the back of his head, spreading along his spine, making every nerve in his body tremble slightly.

He didn't like this feeling—no armor, no battle formations, no close combat, just running, charging, being bombarded by artillery shells, and exchanging fire with the enemy in the trenches.

dislike!
In his mind, war shouldn't be like this!
War should be about lining up, raising shields, pushing spears, charging, and engaging the enemy, with victory or defeat decided in that single contact.

Instead of what we're doing now, where we're running and suddenly find ourselves cut across by an invisible line, without even knowing where that line came from.

"Then what is our purpose? Even if we break through one trench under heavy fire, there will be a second, a third..." A soldier's voice was full of bewilderment, as if he were standing in a corridor with no end in sight, asking the darkness: Is there anyone else?

"It's meaningless! It's worthless! Shut up!" The captain, who had been acting as the safety officer, broke down at this moment. His voice was hysterical, as if he was using all his strength to push those words out of his throat.

Like the vice-captain, he couldn't adapt, and even more so, he couldn't accept it.

He couldn't stand that this world, which he thought had seen all forms of warfare, was redefining war in ways he didn't know.

“A meat grinder…” Aris exclaimed as he watched the second wave of soldiers finish firing and launch their final charge. Then he turned to Darkus and asked, “Is there a tactical way to break this?”

“Yes! Infiltration tactics!” Darkus replied without hesitation.

Infiltration tactics, also known as Huthil tactics or stormtrooper tactics, were invented by Erdős in the later stages of World War I to break the stalemate in trench warfare.

"The core strategy is to avoid bombing the entire front line, but only target key points to paralyze the enemy's command and artillery observation posts. In addition to bombs, smoke grenades are also used."

The infantry was divided into three waves.

The first wave, acting as the spearhead, was equipped with faster-firing firearms and flamethrowers, tasked with tearing open numerous narrow gaps in the enemy's defenses and advancing deep into the trenches.

The second wave followed the first wave into the breach, tasked with eliminating the enemy strongholds that the first wave had bypassed and mopping up the remaining enemy forces.

The third wave is responsible for cleaning up the battlefield, consolidating the occupied areas, and protecting the supply lines. "Darkus directly explained his understanding of infiltration tactics.

In other words, infiltration tactics are a prototype of deep penetration warfare in a purely infantry version, where human physical strength and willpower replace the assault role of tanks. Its depth is not created by the tracks of tanks, but by the footsteps of the assault troops.

Infiltration tactics are the father of Blitzkrieg, replacing Storm Commandos with tank formations, and replacing infantry bypassing strongholds with armored vehicles.

The core principle remains the same: the goal is not to eliminate every enemy, but to disrupt their command system and cause them to collapse on their own.

“The key point is the artillery preparation and the first wave…” Aris muttered after thinking for a moment. His fingers tapped unconsciously on the butt of his rifle, as if he were disassembling the tactic again within a familiar framework. Then he looked at Darkus seriously and said, “But I don’t think this tactic will be effective in the long run.”

“You’re right!” Darkus didn’t refute, but agreed quickly, as if he had expected Aris to say this. Besides Aris being an expert in this field, infiltration tactics do indeed have drawbacks. “Ammunition, like arrows, is a consumable. Once the penetration is too deep, logistics become fatally flawed. Besides logistics… the first wave requires extremely high individual soldier quality; every death is a loss.” He turned to Aris at the end, “You understand.”

“I understand!” Aris sighed after taking a deep breath.

That sigh was heavy, as if it were pressing a long story into that single sigh.

Shadow warriors are highly trained and adept at concealment, able to approach their targets silently even in full view of others. Their methods are deceptive, and they are ruthless towards their targets, thus never seeking praise. Although they are proud of their achievements, most of their operations remain largely unknown.

The origin and legendary founder of the Shadow Warriors is none other than Aris Anar, who is standing next to Darkus at this moment.

It can be said that Aris is an expert among experts in guerrilla warfare, infiltration operations, and special operations, and as an expert, he understands the ins and outs of these operations.

Only recruits who have their blood spilled by Duruchi for the first time in battle are selected. What follows is a long period of training, learning how to move in the dark, how to traverse open terrain without leaving a trace, and how to complete an operation before sound can travel. Only after passing the tests can they call themselves Shadow Warriors and truly become members of the combat squad. The bonds between squad members are deep; they address each other as brothers or sisters.

Every Shadow Warrior is an elite, and every Shadow Warrior is precious.

“Then there’s the second wave. Infiltration tactics can be very effective when they first appear, but after a while…” Darkus spread his hands, as if to say, “You know that.”

“Yes, the infantry’s advance speed is limited. Once the infiltration tactic has been used for a long time, the enemy, who has figured out the pattern, can bring in reserves while blocking and wearing down the first wave, thus sealing off the infiltration opening,” Aris added, his gaze fixed on the position as if watching a cycle that had happened many times before.

"Yes, it's like closing the door to beat the dog."

"Closing the door to beat the dog...that's a very apt description." Aris chewed on the words for a moment before agreeing.

Once the second wave is blocked, no matter how deep the first wave breaks through or how great the results are, it will be meaningless. Without reinforcements, the first wave will ultimately face annihilation.

The logical chain of military thought seems to be complete at this moment.

If infiltration tactics are like mercury spilling onto the ground, then deep penetration is like a road roller compacting the earth.

Elastic defense is like a spring mattress; the harder you slam it down, the greater the rebound force, even sending a person flying.

Flexible defense, also known as mobile defense or defense in depth, is a high-level form of defense in military strategy that uses flexibility to overcome rigidity.

The core essence can be summarized in one sentence: do not be fixated on the gains and losses of a single city or place, but rather seek opportunities in motion through planned retreats, delays, and attrition, and ultimately launch a decisive counterattack.

The most classic examples are the Battle of Oryol and the Battle of Kursk, which are textbook examples of defense.

When armored units extend their formation and expose their supply lines due to breaking through the front lines, the flank firepower of the pre-set ambush positions will launch an attack. Then, the defender's powerful mobile reserve will launch a short and fierce counterattack the moment when the enemy's armored units' offensive stalls and they are exhausted and changing shifts.

Of course, all military doctrines ultimately come down to a battle of attrition. No matter how ingenious the tactics or how advanced the doctrine, they will all fail in the face of an absolute disparity in strength.

The "health bar" represents comprehensive national strength, industrial capacity, population potential, and strategic reserves.

Military doctrine, in essence, is the struggle of the weaker side to compensate for its lack of resources with intelligence; it is also a tool for the stronger side to leverage its resource advantage and transform intellectual superiority into victory. Without resources, even the most perfect doctrine is just a castle in the air; but with overwhelming resources, even a simple and brutal doctrine can become the truth.

This is the most basic, fundamental logic of war.

Of course, this is a fantasy world...

“So…” Aris pointed to the position in the distance.

"No! Look over there!" Darkus stretched out his hand, but instead of pointing to the battlefield, he pointed to the mouth of the Night White River. "The big guy... is coming!" (End of Chapter)