Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 918 (08.917): The "Ghost Army"

For some unknown reason, the main force of the Greenskins besieging the monastery suddenly charged towards the positions of the Severus rebels and the Dark Eldar, howling as they went. Their core principle was to treat everyone equally, regardless of strength, and attack whoever they encountered.

Horatio and the colonel wasted no time.

Both sides seized this valuable window of opportunity to initially divide up defensive zones, take inventory of remaining personnel, and scan the actual combat map.

After a series of combat missions were arranged in a tense manner and the two sides entered the consultation phase of cooperation, they finally had a short respite to get to know each other.

"If it weren't for the mark of purity on your body and the naval insignia, I probably wouldn't be able to tell which unit you're from. Let's introduce ourselves." The female colonel planted the blood-stained military flag deep into the ruins, straight as a rock.

Then, while tidying up the woolen military coat that she had only half-covered and was casually draped over her body, covering half of her arm, she took out a distinctive Ulan military cap with a square top from the saddlebag of her warhorse and put it on her head properly.

After tidying up her military bearing, she approached Horatio, extended her hand clad in a white lace glove, and spoke to him in a distinctive high Gothic accent.

This distinctive accent is unlike the graceful Sintila uvular dialect; rather, it is a rough dialect characterized by a rolled "r".

"I am Captain Horatio Cochran, High Lord of the Gothic Fleet. I have been ordered to Sintira to establish the Imperial Navy's amphibious assault force..." Horatio politely extended his massive, armor-covered hand and gently shook it. His eyes met those of the listless, demoralized soldiers before him, and for a moment, he was speechless.

He released the female colonel's hand, took out a rolled-up edict from the Ministry of Military Affairs from the storage compartment at his waist, and handed it to her.

After receiving the decree, the female colonel frowned and glanced at the bizarre yet real document with a strange expression.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel Highlord. However, you may have come to the wrong place; this is quite a distance from Sintira. We are the Sintira Astral Army ‘New Land’ Dragoon Regiment, and I am Colonel Yadviga Vardi…” As the colonel said her name, she unconsciously bit her cheek, but in the end, she quickly added, “Yadviga de Rana.”

"There was nothing we could do. Colonel Yadwig, we were with the Calithis reserve fleet and were thrown here by the warp storm."

The void is in complete chaos, and the situation on the ground is no better. At this point, forming troops can only be discussed later. For now, we'll assist you in holding this key position on the front line, which will also serve as valuable experience in ground warfare.

"In any case, we are very grateful that you came to support us."

"To be honest, the situation is terrible. In my entire military career, this is the first time I've seen the 17th Flintlock Regiment, which is considered the pride of the entire Sintira, crumble like this. I... spent my entire junior officer career in this regiment." The colonel sighed.

Then Horatio's eyes swept over her and her cavalry, and he asked, "I've noticed that your troops seem a bit different from the Sintira flintlock regiment. Is it simply because they are cavalry?"

He noticed a clear difference between these men and the Sintira flintlock musketeers.

If described from the perspective of a time traveler, the Sintira flintlock musketeers were like the Bourbon Guard before the French Revolution.

They wore ornate and flamboyant military uniforms and upturned tricorn hats sewn with gold thread.

(Sintira flintlock pistol)

(Officer of the Sintila Fusiliers Regiment)

The cavalrymen in front of them didn't even seem to have a complete uniform. They looked like quartermasters were simply distributing whatever was in the warehouse when allocating supplies to them, much like the chaotic National Guard soldiers during the French Revolution.

Some wore hats resembling those from the Napoleonic era, while others wore light dragoon helmets made of terracotta alloy. Regardless of the style, they complemented their long "horse ears" perfectly, making them appear less out of place.

“We are a newly formed military reform unit,” the female colonel said with a self-deprecating tone, yet also revealing pride, “a product of political struggle.” “Political struggle?” Horatio immediately sensed the immense amount of information in the female colonel’s words and began to assess its potential impact on his new unit.

"Sintira has recently faced a severe political upheaval. The intensity of the war on the Spinning Front has escalated to an unprecedented level, requiring a massive number of Astragalus troops to fill the leaky front lines." The colonel's tone was serious and worried.
"The Sintira flintlock regiment has a large number of troops on paper."

However, in actual mobilization, more than half of the regiments were merely empty shells. They only existed when the military affairs department distributed equipment and pay on time; when the records were checked, there were no actual combat personnel inside.

(A court clerk's notes detail the situation of officials embezzling supplies and military equipment, as seen by the Sintira flintlock regiments.)

"...Yes, please continue."

The female colonel suddenly reached out and pointed to an empty space next to her.

Horatio followed the look in her white-gloved fingertips. It was a remnant of the Sintira flintlock musketeers, who had been reorganized and were taking roll call and counting their numbers, preparing to be thrown back into battle.

“Um…Philip…uh…Cape de la Louis-Orléans?…uh…”

Horatio saw a bearded soldier facing a sergeant, stammering as he recalled and reported "his" name.

On the list of sergeants, "Philippe-Louis de la Carcassonne-Cape" should be a young man of twenty-eight.

However, the bearded veteran in front of us looked to be at least fifty years old.

He lacked the agility and strength of a young man; his weathered face was etched with wrinkles from years of hardship.

"Of the remaining half of the regiment, at least half of the people are local residents of Sintira, and civilians from mid-level hives or retired veterans from other planets are hired to serve as 'substitute soldiers'."

They enjoy far superior treatment compared to other Star Guardians, with less than 10% of their pay going to them. Yet, many veterans and civilians from other planets vie for these spots to serve in the Flintlock Regiment.

Then, unsurprisingly, the intensity of the battle on the defensive line surged to an unprecedented level, completely tearing away the fig leaf that had been "harmless" during the peaceful times.

Vast swathes of planets on the front lines are guarded by these 'ghost legions'. Indeed, on the command center's sand table, the Sintira flintlock regiments fill the entire battle line, but in reality, the front lines are deserted!
Governor Marius of the sector was also aware of the situation, and he instructed Commander-in-Chief General Pyrus to issue an ultimatum.

But the nobles of Sintira were not fools. The extremely high casualty rate made the understaffed noble sons unwilling to go to the army.

They believed that it was one thing to go and get some experience in normal times, but to serve the Star Guardians in a real crisis was tantamount to suicide.

The extremely high understaffing rate also made those veteran soldiers who were originally serving in the military unwilling to leave the camp and go to the front line to be surrounded and beaten by enemies many times their size.

Ultimately, large numbers of civilians, lacking military training, were deceived and sent to the battlefield with less than a tenth of the pay paid by the nobles, only to be defeated, slaughtered, and annihilated.

"It seems we've found the reason why the battle lines were lost so quickly. So how did Sintira ultimately deal with that?"

When Horatio asked the question, the colonel suddenly perked up. Hope shone in her eyes.

(End of this chapter)