industrial lord

Chapter 744 North Wind and Flame

A biting north wind howled across the Odra River, the western border river of the Kingdom of Piast.

On the river, a large fleet of ships is struggling to sail south against the current, aided by a strong northerly wind.

The Anglo Kingdom's transport fleet, carrying food supplies vital to the three-nation alliance, was enormous, with ships of all sizes crowding each other in the waterways, making their journey extremely slow.

The atmosphere on the fleet's flagship was quite somber.

The actual commander, Baron Scrimgeour, frowned as he gazed at the desolate riverbanks and the rolling hills in the distance.

With his sharp eyes, he quickly spotted the numerous newly erected wooden signs along the shore, painted in bright red, that read: "War Zone Ahead, No Ships Allowed!"

“Lord Fudge,” Scrimgeour said solemnly, turning to Earl Fudge, the nominal highest-ranking officer of the fleet, “the current situation is unusual. The 3rd Division of the Wessen Army is stationed in Burling, west of the river, and they are fully capable of attacking the river transport.”

"I suggest the fleet halt its advance and immediately contact the army of the Kingdom of Piast, requesting them to dispatch troops to guard and protect key points on both sides of the river in case of any unforeseen circumstances."

Fudge, wrapped in a thick fur coat, leisurely enjoyed mulled wine with honey, his face full of disdain.

He scoffed, "Scrinker, you're overly nervous!"

"The Kingdom of Anglo and the Rhine Alliance have not declared war, nor have they engaged in any direct hostile military action."

"The Duchy of Wessen? Hmph, how dare Frederick touch a ship from the Kingdom of Anglo?"

"Can he withstand the wrath of the Royal Anglo-Saxon Navy?"

Do you remember those warships in the harbor, covered in cannons?

"He wouldn't dare even if you gave him ten lives. Our warships can go down the Rhine and blow up Wesenberg!"

"Keep moving forward, don't waste any time!"

His arrogance stemmed from those new warships. Even though he climbed to his position through nepotism, he understood that the more cannons a ship had, the more powerful it was.

Meanwhile, an abandoned church on the west bank of the Odora River became the headquarters of the 3rd Division of the Weisen Army, creating an atmosphere quite different from that of the fleet's flagship.

Division Commander Eugene stood before the enormous battle map, his gaze sharp as an eagle's, occasionally taking a sip of a bottle of soda.

Chief of Staff Ehrlich entered the command post and quickly reported the latest intelligence: "Commander, the target convoy is about to enter the ambush section we have set up."

"The fleet was large, slow, and appeared to be not very vigilant, having not sent out enough scouts."

“Count Marchin is pressing us urgently; the deficit in the warehouse must be settled before the fleet arrives.”

Eugene nodded and said, "The order from the High Command is to act when the opportunity arises to relieve the pressure on Red Waterwheel Village."

"Destroy this fleet first, then settle the accounts. This will severely damage the Allied forces' logistics and demoralize them."

As they were talking, an advisor placed the latest icons on the map.

After the staff finished their work, Eugene's eyes swept across the entire area, and finally, he tapped his finger heavily on the emblem representing the fleet, saying firmly, "Attack! We must take them down!"

"Send a telegram to the General Staff later, and don't worry about the diplomatic implications. If the Kingdom of Anglo complains, just put all the blame on me."

“I am a Gaul, it is only natural for me to fight the Anglo-Saxons.”

"The commander must have had this in mind when he assigned me here."

"More importantly, it will clear the way for us to build a pontoon bridge and allow our main force to cross the river!"

Ehrlich thought he made a lot of sense.

The city of Wesenberg did consider the diplomatic issue, so it requested that Eugene erect a sign along the river indicating that the area ahead was a war zone.

Now it seems that such trouble is unnecessary.

Eugene looked at Erich and asked, "How are the deployments of each department?"

Erich continued his report in a steady and clear manner: "Reporting to the division commander, the 33rd Regiment has secretly moved to the west bank of the Oder River as planned, occupied a favorable position on the convoy's inevitable route, and is ready for concealment and attack. Target convoy."

"All bridge-building equipment and personnel of the engineering corps are ready. It has been confirmed that two pontoon bridges capable of supporting heavy equipment can be erected across the Odera River within four hours. The bridge-building sites have been selected, and Count Marchin is already making arrangements on the opposite bank."

"The main forces, including the 31st Regiment, the 32nd Regiment, the 3rd Cavalry Regiment, and the 2nd Mage Regiment, are assembled and waiting behind the pontoon bridge construction site. Once the pontoon bridge is completed, it will ensure a rapid and orderly crossing of the river in the shortest possible time."

"The air force reconnaissance detachment continues to conduct aerial reconnaissance, with the coverage area extending to a depth of 20 kilometers on the east bank of the river. So far, no abnormal troop movements or reinforcements have been found in the army of the Kingdom of Piast on the riverbank."

After listening to the report, Eugene glanced at the map scale and the Odora River, quickly calculating the speed of the convoy and the time it would take to reach the 33rd Regiment's pre-arranged ambush point.

"The fleet is crowded and moving slowly. At the current speed, it will take a considerable amount of time to reach the ambush zone." He decisively ordered, "Order Walter, the 33rd Regiment, to launch a preemptive strike. Launch the attack tomorrow morning and annihilate the entire fleet!"

"Order the engineering corps to begin erecting the pontoon bridge before sunrise, and make sure it is completed by daybreak or shortly thereafter, so that the main force can quickly cross the river."

Ehrlich asked: "An early attack?"

Eugene nodded and said, "The situation at Redwaterwheel Village is urgent. We need to hurry and coordinate our overall operations." "Our so-called allies will definitely have some ulterior motives; just treat it as a real attack."

Half an hour later, the Corps held a meeting of senior officers, and everyone agreed to act ahead of schedule.

The General Staff quickly formulated a plan and relayed the orders down through the ranks.

On the river, the Anglo-Saxon fleet continued its clumsy journey.

In the afternoon, the signs along the route the fleet passed no longer read "War Zone Ahead" but "War Zone," and the wreckage of several burned wooden boats appeared on the riverbank.

Scrimgeour's unease grew stronger, and he approached Count Fudge again, urgently saying, "My lord! We have penetrated deep into the marked war zone!"

"It's unusually quiet on the shore!"

"I strongly recommend raising the alert level, ordering all sailors to strengthen their watch, put weapons in place, and find a suitable place to anchor overnight before continuing our journey tomorrow during the day!"

Fudge, growing impatient from the wind and annoyed by Scrimgeour's nagging, snapped, "Enough! Scrimgeour! Stop your cowardly behavior!"

"What war zone? I think Wesson is just bluffing!"

"Boating? Great!"

"Not far ahead is a small river port town belonging to Piast. We'll anchor there tonight and let the sailors go ashore to relax so they can set sail in high spirits tomorrow!"

He completely ignored Scringer's warnings, only thinking about having fun on shore.

At Fudge's command, the fleet anchored at dusk in the river bend on the east bank outside the town.

Fudge led his entourage ashore in a grand manner and headed straight for the best tavern in town.

With his lead and tacit approval, large numbers of sailors flocked to the town in search of alcohol and entertainment to dispel the chill and boredom of the river.

Only a very small number of responsible crew members and a few guards directly under Scringer remained on board or ashore to maintain basic vigilance.

That night, the town was brightly lit, bustling with noise, and filled with the smell of alcohol.

As the darkest hour before the cold dawn arrives, the hustle and bustle of the riverside town has long been replaced by deathly silence and the heavy smell of alcohol.

The vast majority of sailors and officers were so drunk that they collapsed in taverns, inns, and even on the streets.

On the west bank of the Odora River, the biting north wind was even stronger.

Commander Walter of the 33rd Regiment lay prone on the cold riverbank, observing through binoculars the dark, unsuspecting convoy of ships in the bay outside Oak Town on the opposite bank.

The north wind howled, and snowflakes began to fall.

"What a beautiful day," Walter muttered to himself, a cold and decisive glint in his eyes.

He turned to the messenger and ordered: "Proceed according to plan, prepare incendiary bombs, assign targets, attack the upwind side."

The soldiers of the 33rd Regiment, who had already been lying in wait, quickly aimed their purple mushroom guns and mortars at the target. As the signal flares were raised, specially made incendiary bombs flew across the Odera River.

After a series of muffled thunderous sounds, 80% of the grenades and shells hit the target ship's wooden hull, sails, or flammable materials piled on the deck.

The warhead exploded instantly, and orange-red flames shot up violently.

The 33rd Regiment allocated boats on a section of the river equally to each company, and the firelight looked like a row of ellipses in the pitch-black night.

North wind, the deadly north wind!

As soon as the flames touched the hull, they were swept away by the fierce north wind and roared southward!

Flames greedily licked at the dry wood, the tar-coated ropes, and the grease lubricating the pulleys...

Ship after ship was set ablaze, and the fire spread at an alarming rate.

The wind fanned the flames, and the fire, fueled by the wind, instantly engulfed the entire riverbed in flames.

The few remaining conscious sailors trapped on the ship let out piercing screams as they tried to put out the fire.

But their efforts were futile against the raging flames and fierce north winds.

The second wave of attacks followed immediately, with explosive warheads aimed at the waterline, blasting large holes in the hull.

Using the firelight as a guide, the infantry would immediately launch a barrage of fire in platoons should anyone attempt to put out the fire.

Walter calmly gazed at the hellish scene on the opposite bank, then took out his pocket watch and glanced at it.

The engineering corps should have already begun erecting pontoon bridges, and soon the main force of the corps will cross the Odora River.

The transport fleet of the Kingdom of Anglo, along with the hopes of the three-nation alliance, sank into the icy river first amidst the winter's snow and flames.

(End of this chapter)